We were returning one evening through the fine avenue of oaks, which led to the front entrance of the demesne, when a pony rushed past us at full gallop.

A boyish impulse, tempted me to give a loud halloo, in order to set the beautiful animal off at its wildest speed.

In a few minutes we met a lad of my own age, booted and spurred, with a whip in his hand, running in the same direction the pony had taken.

He was in a towering passion, and coming up to us, he cried out, with a menacing air-- "'You impudent rascal! how dared you to shout in that way, to frighten my horse, when you saw me endeavouring to catch him ?' "'I saw no such thing,' I replied, drily.

'I admired the pony, and shouted to see how much faster he could run.' "'You deserve a good thrashing,' quoth he.