Give the waiter sixpence, and order out your horse, and when your horse is out, pay for the corn, and give the ostler a shilling, then mount your horse and walk him gently for five miles; and whilst you are walking him in this manner, it may be as well to tell you to take care that you do not let him down and smash his knees, more especially if the road be a particularly good one, for it is not at a desperate hiverman pace, and over very bad roads, that a horse tumbles and smashes his knees, but on your particularly nice road, when the horse is going gently and lazily, and is half asleep, like the gemman on his back; well, at the end of the five miles, when the horse has digested his food, and is all right, you may begin to push your horse on, trotting him a mile at a heat, and then walking him a quarter of a one, that his wind may be not distressed; and you may go on in that manner for thirty miles, never galloping of course, for none but fools or hivermen ever gallop horses on roads; and at the end of that distance you may stop at some other nice inn for dinner.

I say, when your horse is led into the stable, after that same thirty miles trotting and walking, don't let the saddle be whisked off at once, for if you do your horse will have such a sore back as will frighten you, but let your saddle remain on your horse's back, with the girths loosened, till after his next feed of corn, and be sure that he has no corn, much less water, till after a long hour and more; after he is fed he may be watered to the tune of half a pail, and then the ostler can give him a regular rub down; you may then sit down to dinner, and when you have dined get up and see to your horse as you did after breakfast, in fact you must do much after the same fashion you did at t'other inn; see to your horse, and by no means disoblige the ostler.

So when you have seen to your horse a second time, you will sit down to your bottle of wine--supposing you to be a gentleman--and after you have finished it, and your argument about the corn laws with any commercial gentleman who happens to be in the room, you may mount your horse again--not forgetting to do the proper thing to the waiter and ostler; you may mount your horse again and ride him, as you did before, for about five-and-twenty miles, at the end of which you may put up for the night after a very fair day's journey, for no gentleman--supposing he weighs sixteen stone, as I suppose you will by the time you become a gentleman--ought to ride a horse more than sixty-five miles in one day, provided he has any regard for his horse's back, or his own either.

See to your horse at night, and have him well rubbed down.

The next day you may ride your horse forty miles just as you please, but never foolishly, and those forty miles will bring you to your journey's end, unless your journey be a plaguy long one, and if so, never ride your horse more than five-and-thirty miles a day, always however, seeing him well fed, and taking more care of him than yourself; which is but right and reasonable, seeing as how the horse is the best animal of the two.
"When you are a gentleman," said he, after a pause, "the first thing you must think about is to provide yourself with a good horse for your own particular riding; you will, perhaps, keep a coach and pair, but they will be less your own than your lady's, should you have one, and your young gentry, should you have any; or, if you have neither, for madam, your housekeeper, and the upper female servants; so you need trouble your head less about them, though, of course, you would not like to pay away your money for screws; but be sure you get a good horse for your own riding; and that you may have a good chance of having a good one, buy one that's young and has plenty of belly--a little more than the one has which you now have, though you are not yet a gentleman; you will, of course, look to his head, his withers, legs, and other points, but never buy a horse at any price that has not plenty of belly--no horse that has not belly is ever a good feeder, and a horse that a'n't a good feeder can't be a good horse; never buy a horse that is drawn up in the belly behind, a horse of that description can't feed, and can never carry sixteen stone.
"So when you have got such a horse be proud of it--as I dare say you are of the one you have now--and wherever you go swear there a'n't another to match it in the country, and if anybody gives you the lie, take him by the nose and tweak it off, just as you would do if anybody were to speak ill of your lady, or, for want of her, of your housekeeper.