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OLD TIME THOROUGHBREDS

stage of breaking, being comparatively handy and pleasanter than many older horses, but we never seemed to get nearer to confidential relations. He took me unawares again ('underhand,' as Mr. Paterson's native young man hath it) while out on the run, and kicked savagely at me while falling. I began to think—having certain responsibilities—that it was hardly worth while to run such risk of life and limb only for the sake, too, of twenty or thirty pounds, and the strictly local reputation of 'being able to ride anything.'

So I relinquished the task of Ben's education to Frank Lawrence, my stud groom, than whom no better rough-rider ever sat in saddle. Plucky, patient, and a fine horseman generally, he gradually brought the rebel round. The reformation was apparently complete. Kept in regular work, he ceased to be fractious, and acquired a decent character in the neighbourhood. He even carried the black boy without protest.

Months passed. The stock-riders were mustering up for the morning's work neighbours—and station hands. Frank was sitting carelessly on Ben Bolt, now regularly 'made' and recognised as a stock-horse. Suddenly, without a moment's warning he 'exploded'—there is no other word for it. Before any one could offer a remark, Frank was catapulted on to the crown of his head, and Ben was tearing down the paddock, kicking at his bridle-reins and trying to send the saddle after the man. Frank arose slowly, and after a careful examination of his neck had convinced him that it was not really broken, as might have been surmised, said, 'I believe Ben means to finish me yet.'

'I would shoot him now if I thought that, Frank,' I answered; 'the treacherous brute. Better take another horse to-day.'

Frank, of course, would not hear of this, and remounted the ungrateful one, led up as he was in a few minutes, with eyes like burning coals and nostrils quivering in anything but a reassuring manner. He made no sign, however, and came in, after about fourteen hours' galloping and camp work, as fresh as a daisy.

When the station changed hands I passed our mutual friend over to Frank, who sold him at a profit. Our paths lay thenceforward apart. Years afterwards, my brother and