"I want to see the horse," said I.

"I entreat you to be still," said the old man; "the horse is safe, I assure you." "I am thinking about his knees," said I.

"Instead of thinking about your horse's knees," said the old man, "be thankful that you have not broke your own neck." "You do not talk wisely," said I; "when a man's neck is broke he is provided for; but when his horse's knees are broke he is a lost jockey, that is, if he has nothing but his horse to depend upon.

A pretty figure I should cut at Horncastle, mounted on a horse blood-raw at the knees." "Oh, you are going to Horncastle," said the old man, seriously, "then I can sympathise with you in your anxiety about your horse, being a Lincolnshire man, and the son of one who bred horses.

I will myself go down into the stable, and examine into the condition of your horse, so pray remain quiet till I return; it would certainly be a terrible thing to appear at Horncastle on a broken-kneed horse." He left the room, and returned at the end of about ten minutes, followed by another person.