My dear Gambado," said Lord Rosier to the Doctor, "I know not how I shall ever repay you for your good advice. I am your debtor, for two things; first for inducing me to take up horseback exercise again, and then for recommending me to your friend John Tattsall, who has furnished me with a most excellent trotter, and one that does one good to ride it."
"I am glad to hear it, my Lord: but to what purpose is your visit to me this morning? You look the picture of health; I hope nothing is the matter."
"Oh! dear no! Nothing is the matter with me; but, I thought I might, without any intentional offence, just call and speak to you about the horse. I hope I do not offend."
"By no means, my Lord; pray go on. Your Lordship will not impute to me any thing wrong in the character of the horse?"
"By no means, Doctor; by no means. I only sought your advice, because I thought you so skillful that you could get me into the right method of treating a horse."
"Humph!"
This was the first direct slap at the Doctor's veterinary powers. He had a request from York to bring with him a veterinary surgeon; but he was now consulted by a British nobleman about the treatment of a horse. Well, thought the Doctor, let us hear the complaint; for after all it may be the fault of the rider more than of the beast.
"What is the matter, my Lord?"
"It is simply this,—the creature, though in every other respect a suitable one, has a strange propensity or habit of slipping his girths; so that when I have rode out a mile or two, I find myself upon his rump; and once, indeed, I happened to let go the reins, and the saddle came over his tail, and I slipped off behind. He then quietly walked out of his saddle and went away, leaving me to carry my own saddle to the nearest hostelry, and to have a walk home, instead of a ride."