man, kept his animal
spirits in a delightful simmer, and found favour for him in the eyes
of his superior officers. How they discovered B.-P.'s quality as a
humourist happened in this way. A day or two after he joined there was
an entertainment of some sort going on in barracks, and during a pause
Sir Baker Russell turned round to Baden-Powell, and said, "Here, young
'un, you can play a bit, I'm sure"; and up went Baden-Powell to the
piano, as if obeying an order. In a few minutes the whole place was in
a roar, and, as one of the officers told me, the regiment recognised
that in B.-P. they had got "a born buffoon, but a devilish clever
fellow."

[Illustration: The Dashing Hussar.
(B.-P. at 21.)]

Concerning B.-P. as an actor, it is characteristic of the
thoroughness with which he does everything that he always draws and
redraws any character he may be playing until he is perfectly
satisfied with the dress and make-up; some of these drawings have been
captured by his brother-officers, and are greatly treasured.

Soon after joining he began to show his quality as a sportsman. In
that regiment of fine riders it has always been hard to shine at polo
or tent-pegging, or heads-and-posts, but there was no mistaking the
perfect horseman in B.-P. when he got into the saddle, with the eyes
of the regiment upon him. Few men ride more gracefully. His seat, of
course, is entirely free from that ramrod stiffness which some of the
Irregular Cavalry cultivate with such painful assiduity; he sits
easily and gracefully, so easily that you might fancy a rough horse
would set him bobbing and slipping like a cockney astride a donkey on
the sands. But with all the ease and grace, there is strength there,
such as would wear down the nastiest of bad brutes. The leg that looks
so lightly and gracefully posed grips like steel, and the pressure
increases relentlessly the more the horse quarrels with his rider.
Many a time has Baden-Powell taken in hand young horses which have
defied the efforts of the rough-riding Sergeant-Major, and so far as I
can gather there was never a case of the horse beating the rider. His
skill as a breaker of horses deserves especial mention because of the
characteristic manner in which it is done. By simply sticking in the
saddle, and gripping with his legs, he wears down the horse's
opposition, silently matching his powers of endurance against the
tricks and tempers of the unruly member. Seldom does whip or sp