I became so sorry for Voronok that I began to caress his sweaty neck, and to ask his forgiveness for the beating that I had given him.
Since that time I have grown older, and I still always pity horses, and I always remember Voronok and Pimen Timofeiïtch when I see any one abusing a horse.
CHAPTER II
HOW I WAS TAUGHT TO RIDE HORSEBACK
When I was a little boy, we four brothers had our lessons every day except Sundays and holidays, when we were free and could play together.
One time father said:—
"You older children must learn to ride horseback; you must be sent to riding-school."
I was the youngest, and I asked:—
"Can't I learn, too?"
My father said:—
"You would tumble off."
I began to tease him to let me learn, too, and I almost cried.
My father said:—
"Very well, then, you shall take lessons, too. Only see here: don't you cry if you fall. One who never falls from a horse will never learn to ride."
When Wednesday came, three of us were taken to the riding-school. We went up a great staircase, and from the great staircase we went up a narrow staircase. And the narrow staircase opened into a very large room. In this room there was sand instead of a floor; and gentlemen and ladies, as well as lads like ourselves, were riding on horseback.
This was the riding-school.
It was rather dark, and there was an odor of horses, and we could hear people cracking whips, and shouting to horses, and the pounding of horses' hoofs against the
