Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 99, December 20, 1890

SCENE— A Riding-school, on a raw chilly afternoon. The gas is lighted, but does not lend much cheerfulness to the interior, which is bare and bleak, and pervaded by a bluish haze. Members of the Class discovered standing about on the tan, waiting for their horses to be brought in. At the further end is an alcove, with a small balcony, in which Mrs. BILBOW-KAY, the Mother of one of the Equestrians, is seated with a young female Friend.
Mrs. Bilbow-Kay. Oh, ROBERT used to ride very nicely indeed when he was a boy; but he has been out of practice lately, and so, as the Doctor ordered him horse-exercise, I thought it would be wiser for him to take a few lessons. Such an excellent change for any one with sedentary pursuits!
The Friend. But isn't riding a sedentary pursuit, too?
Mrs. B.-K. ROBERT says he doesn't find it so.
Riding Master ( saluting with cane ). Evenin', Gentlemen—your 'orses will be in directly; 'ope we shall see some ridin' this time. ( Clatter without; enter Stablemen with horses. ) Let me see—Mr. BILBOW-KAY, Sir, you'd better ride the Shar ; he ain't been out all day, so he'll want some 'andling. (Mr. B.-K., with a sickly smile, accepts a tall and lively horse. ) No, Mr. TONGS, that ain't your 'orse to-day—you've got beyond 'im , Sir. We'll put you up on Lady Loo ; she's a bit rough till you get on terms with her, but you'll be all right on her after a bit. Yes, Mr. JOGGLES, Sir, you take Kangaroo , please. Mr. BUMPAS, I've 'ad the Artful Dodger out for you; and mind he don't get rid of you so easy as he did Mr. GRIPPER last time. Got a nice 'orse for you , Mr. 'ARRY SNIGGERS, Sir— Frar Diavolo . You mustn't take no notice of his bucking a bit at starting—he'll soon leave it off.
Mr. Sniggers ( who conceals his qualms under a forced facetiousness ). Soon leave me off, you mean!
Mrs. B.-K. He's very rude to all the Class, except dear ROBERT—but then ROBERT has such a nice easy seat.
The R.M. Mr. BILBOW-KAY, Sir, try and set a bit closer. Why, you ain't no more 'old on that saddle than a stamp with the gum licked off! Can-ter! You 're all right, Mr. JOGGLES—it's on'y his play; set down on your saddle, Sir!... I didn't say on the ground!