took me a whole year.
As for you, it will not take you a month."

"So little time?" cried Nic excitedly.

"Or less. We have about a week's journey before us; and from what I
have just learned, I shall be greatly surprised if you do not canter up
to the station with me, a little stiff and sore about the knees, but
good friends with Sour Sorrel there, and ready to think riding a
delightful accomplishment."

Nic shook his head.

"You don't know me yet, father," said the boy sadly.

"Better than you know yourself," replied the doctor. "But don't let's
waste time. You want to learn?"

"Horribly, father," cried Nic.

"Very well, then. I'll give you a lesson at once."

"Not faster, to begin with?" said Nic quickly.

"No," said the doctor, laughing. "I want to give you confidence, not
destroy it. So now then, to begin with, you shall learn what danger you
run. I am an experienced horseman, I have tight hold of your rein, so
that your horse cannot bolt, and I have promised you not to go faster
than a walk. You see, then, the utmost that could happen in that way
would be that the nag might caper a little."

"Or kick and throw me off."

"He will not kick, boy. He is too well broken. Secondly, you might
lose your seat and come off: If you did, how far would you have to
fall?"

"About four feet, father."

"Say four. Suppose you were on a see-saw at school, would you be afraid
of falling, off four or five or six feet?"

"No, father, of course not."

"Then why should you be afraid of falling that distance from the horse?"

"I don't know," said Nic. "It is because it is all so fresh, I suppose.
Yes, I do: my foot might hang in the stirrup and the horse gallop away
with me, kicking me every time he strode."

"When I am holding him? The stirrups, then: take your feet out."

"Out of the stirrups, father? Is it safe to do so?"

"You were alarmed lest your foot should hang in one. Quick! out with
them. That's right: now draw them up, cross the leathers, and let the
irons hang over on each side. Now how do you feel?"

"As if I must go off on one side or the other, father. The saddle is so
dreadfully slippery."

"Take tight hold of it, then, with your knees, and keep your balance.
That's not right: I said take hold with your knees, not the calves of
your legs."

"That way, father?"

"Yes, that's better. Let your legs go well down, your heels too, and
whatever you do don't touch the pommel with