"Whoa! Quiet, now!—poor fellow!"
This last endearing address was checked by a sudden jolt, produced by a spasmodic movement of the horse, which shook the cavalier to his very centre.
"Punish him well with your spurs, Mr. Stubb, and let him run; that's the way to cure him of his tricks. Suppose we try a race together."
"Thank you, Miss Euston, but the fact is— Whoa, boy! whoa!— I mean, the stableman told me that he is rather short of breath."
"O, never mind the stableman. Come, let's go."
"Thank you, Miss Euston, I believe not to-day."
"You astonish me. I will lay any bet you like—you shall name the wager—any thing you please."
"Really, this is a little too bad!" soliloquized the horrified Mrs. Primrose. "Miss Euston, I entreat of you—I beg—that we may have no more racing. It is very dangerous, besides being——"
"What is it besides being dangerous, Mrs. Primrose?"
"Very indecorous."