“Of course. A man wants to feel at home on a horses, so does a boy. Now then, I’ll give you a leg up.”
I was like wax in his hands. On lifting one leg as he bade me, the next moment I was sent flying, to come down on the horse’s back astride, but so much over to the right that I had to fling myself forward and clutch the mane.
“Bravo! Well done!” cried Lomax sarcastically.
“I’m all right now,” I cried.
“All right! Here, come down, sir. Do you know what would have happened if that had been some horses?”
“No,” I said, dismounting clumsily.
“Well, then, I’ll tell you. They’d either have sent you flying over their heads, or bolted.”
“I’m very sorry,” I faltered.
“Sorry! I should think you are. Got up like a tailor, sir, and you’ve come down like one. Bah! It’s horrible.”
“Well, but you’ve got to teach me better,” I cried.