There was a murmur of approbation from the native grooms who were looking on, and who understood the thing.
"You see I have done it before," he said, smiling.

"And now give me my coat, and we will be getting home.

Oh yes! I can ride quite well." "That man has no end of pluck in him," said John Westonhaugh to Kildare.
"By Jove! yes," was the answer.

"I have seen men at home make twice the fuss over a tumble in a ploughed field, when they were not even stunned.
I would not have thought it." "He is not the man to make much fuss about anything of that kind." Isaacs stoutly refused any further assistance, and after walking up and down a few minutes, he said he had got his legs back, and demanded a cigarette.

He lit it carefully, and mounted as if nothing had happened, and we moved homeward, followed by the spectators, many of whom, of course, were acquaintances, and who had ridden up more or less quickly to make polite inquiries about the accident.