A pole across a stone wall was another splendid aid to horsemanship, see-saw fashion, or turned into a steed for one, by wedging the thick end into a hole and riding the thin end, spring fashion; while, as the years rolled by and the boys were back from school, an occasional mount was had upon Saxon, Tallington’s old grey horse, falsely said to be nearly two hundred. But if he was not, he looked it.
Of course it was pleasant to be seated on high upon his back, but the ride was not exhilarating, for whether he was bound for the ploughed fields, or to harrow, or to fetch home a load, it seemed to make no difference to Saxon, who always seemed to be examining the ground before him with his big dull eyes before he lifted a foot to set it down in advance. He was a cautious beast, and this may have arisen from his having been often bogged. These rides were, then, not much sought after, and when Solomon was placed at Dick’s disposal he was voted by far the best, and the donkey was not long in finding that his young master had learned how to ride; as, with his long head he debated how he might best rid himself of such incubi as Dick and his friend.
All this is explanatory of the reason why Tom Tallington did not slip off at Solomon’s first bout, but kept on when he came down by hooking himself, as it were, with his leg and gripping a piece of the donkey’s skin with his hand.
By these means he regained his perpendicular, but only for a moment, Solomon having at command a perfect battery of ruses for ridding himself of a rider. No sooner was Tom upright than the donkey gave the whole of his skin and muscles a wrench sidewise, which felt as if the seat was being dragged away.
The consequence was that Tom nearly went off to the right. He was too good an assman, though, and by a dexterous gymnastic feat he dragged himself once more upright, when Solemn-un’s back suddenly grew round and began to treat Tom as if he were a ball. Now he was jerked up; now he was jerked forward; now he was jerked back—bob—bob—bob—bob—till he nearly went off over the tail. There was another bout of kicking, and away went Tom again forward till he was a long way on toward the donkey’s neck, but only to shuffle himself back to the normal seat upon the animal, after which, in token of defeat, Solomon went on out of sight at a rapid canter, leaving Dick laughing till he had to wipe his eyes.
“He will be so sore and so cross!” cried Dick, as he walked swiftly on; when, involuntarily turning his head, he saw that the constable was following him.
“The idiot!” cried the lad angrily. “Well, he shall have a run for it.”
Setting his teeth and doubling his fists, he bent his head, and started off running as hard as he could go, with the result that as he was going somewhat after the fashion of a hare making use of his eyes to watch his pursuer, and not looking ahead, he suddenly went round a curve, right into Hickathrift’s chest, and was caught and held by the big wheelwright.
“Why, Mester Dick, what now?”
“Don’t stop me, Hicky. I was running because that stupid constable fellow is after me.”