There was a hepping-stock by the stable-wall, and he flung himself on to the slate steps.

He could not stop laughing.
The two others stared at him.

They thought he had gone mad.
"Here comes Dad!" cried George Vyell.
This sobered Taffy.

He sat up and brushed his eyes.

Sir Harry whistled for Jim, and told him to saddle the horses.
George and Honoria stood by the stable-door and watched the saddling.
The horses were led out; Sir Harry's, a tall grey, George's, a roan cob.
"Look here!" Sir Harry said to Jim; "you take my bird, and comfort your master with him.