bey the direction. He
described a beautiful curve, and went around the meeting-house,
reappearing on the opposite side of the green.

The immediate danger passed, the spectators began to laugh. Mr. Kerchey
reminded Jane Dustan of the celebrated monkey, Andrew Jackson, who rode
the pony in the circus-ring "last fourth of July." Mr. Kerchey's
performance was more public. He rode in view of the whole neighborhood,
his hat off, his feet thrown behind, in the stirrups, his hands still
holding on desperately. Around the meeting-house he went again, faster
than before. A third time the horse consented to perform the amusing
evolution, then rebelled. Wheeling suddenly, he threw Mr. Kerchey
sprawling into a black puddle of indescribable water, near one of the
sheds.

It was well for both horse and rider that the latter had instinctively
extricated his feet from the stirrups. As it was, the animal, more
indignant, it seemed, than terrified, quietly turned under the shed, and
stopped.

A magnificent splashing of the water celebrated Mr. Kerchey's descent
into the element. He came down like an immense frog, with outstretched
arms and legs, sublime. But like anything else than a frog he began to
scramble and gasp, and flounder in the puddle.

Chester dashed to the spot, dismounted, and helped him out.

To describe the ludicrous appearance of the strangling, drenched, muddy,
hatless equestrian, or the effect it had upon the convulsed spectators,
would be superfluous. With the exception of Chester, only Miss Sedley, a
young lady of the finest feelings, and Sarah, whose conscience upbraided
her for the mischief she had done, were at all able to control their
mirth.

"Take me--somewhere!" gasped Mr. Kerchey seeking his handkerchief, to
wipe his streaming face. "I'm--hurt. My shoulder--Oh!"

"You haven't put any bones out, I hope?" said Chester.

"I don't know. I'm afraid," moaned the equestrian, with a most ludicrous
expression of mingled grief, pain, fright and mud. "Oh dear! what a--a
mournful termination to--to my folly!"

He sank upon the ground, and sat with his feet in the puddle, a picture
of utter woe.

"Excuse me," he said, feebly, "I--I am very--faint."

"He is seriously injured, I fear," observed Miss Sedley.

"You won't let me--_die_--here in the filth--will you?" groaned Mr.
Kerchey, looking up with a despairing expression into the faces of the
spectators.

Even Chester had to hide his face for laughing. Bu