rider feeling it. Then sharp to the right towards a
bigger fence, with a ditch beyond; nothing for a girl to crane at, but
having to be jumped. Crawley, straining his eyes after the hounds, and
not sitting very tight, was thrown forward when the horse rose, and,
when he alighted, lost his stirrup, reeled, and came over on to mother
earth; and when he rose to his feet he had the mortification to see Sir
Robert careering away in great delight, and he proceeded to plod through
the heavy ground after him.

"Whatever made you tumble off? Sir Robert never swerved or stumbled!"
cried Miss Clarissa as she swept by him. But his wounded vanity was
hardly felt in the greater annoyance of being out of the hunt.

But the best of harriers is that you hardly ever _are_ out of the hunt.
The hare came round again; some good-natured man caught the horse and
brought him back to the grateful Crawley, who remounted and soon fell in
with the hounds at a check.

"I say, you know," said Mr Foljambe, "if you get another fall I shall
exert my authority as theatrical manager and send you home. I cannot
have my Ensign Bellefleur break his neck when the part is not doubled."

"No!" said Miss Clarissa, "not before Wednesday."

Whimper, whimper; they hit it off and away again. Another fence with
hurdles in it, and a knot of rustics looking on in delight. More
cautious now, Crawley stuck his knees in and leaned back, and, when Sir
Robert alighted, was still on, with both feet in the stirrups, but very
much on the pommel, and not in an elegant attitude at all.

"Oh, look at he!" cried a boy with a turnip-chopper in one hand and a
fork for dragging that root out in the other. "He be tailor."

"It's agwyne to rai-ain, Mister Lunnoner!" added another smockfrock;
"won't yer get inside and pull the winders up?"

Even the clodhoppers jeered him; and that confounded friend of his,
Gould, was close beside and laughed, and would be sure to repeat what he
heard. Never mind, it was glorious fun. He came off again later in the
afternoon, but that was at a good big obstacle, which most of the field
avoided, going round by a gate, and Sir Robert stumbled a bit on
landing, which made an excuse. But this time the horse, who was not so
fresh now, waited for him to get up again. He felt very stiff and sore
when it was all over and they were riding home again; especially it
seemed as if his lower garments were stuffed with nettles. As for his
tumbles