Plenty of Ponies by Josephine Pullein-Thompson

Author:Josephine Pullein-Thompson [Pullein-Thompson, Josephine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jane Badger Books

8

“My Sister Fell Off”

THE ESMONDS ate their lunch—hot pot and treacle pudding—at a speed which their father told them was barbaric, and afterwards they rushed out to the stables to saddle their ponies. No one did much grooming, and only Tina bothered to put on all her riding clothes.

It was with some trepidation that they mounted and rode up the drive: the ponies were very fresh after their long spell in the stables; they refused to stand still, they jogged and pranced, they bumped their quarters into each other and argued which should lead the way.

“Do behave sensibly, Frosty,” said Julian. “Really, any one might think you were a silly three-year-old.”

“It’s all right; it’s only the wheelbarrow,” said Tina in soothing tones to October, who was shying at almost everything.

“Now, Delight,” said Charlotte, “you’ll only fall down if you fool about in this silly way.”

“Steady,” said Lewis to Solomon.

“What is the matter with you all?” asked Paul. “Don’t you like your horses to have a bit of life in them? I believe you’d feel safer on worn-out hirelings.”

“We wouldn’t,” said Julian.

“October’s never like a hireling,” said Tina, “and surely a person can talk to her horse without you interfering.”

“There’s a big difference between being fresh and being silly,” said Charlotte.

“At least we don’t need standing martingales,” said Lewis.

“That’s only because the Turk’s keen,” said Paul.

“Solomon’s only a half-bred so he’s bound to be quieter. Thoroughbreds are much the most difficult to ride.”

“That’s what you think,” said Lewis.

“It’s a well-known fact,” replied Paul.

“You’re a conceited idiot,” said Lewis, unable to think of a better reply.

“Well, you’re a cautious grandmother,” answered Paul.

“For goodness’ sake, shut up,” said Charlotte. “We haven’t been able to ride for ages because of the beastly weather and then, when at last we can, you do your best to spoil it by arguing exactly as though you were at school.”

“Of course you never argue,” said Paul, letting the jogging Turk break into a brisk trot. The Turk was feeling very fresh and, wearing the jointed snaffle in which Paul always rode him, because double bridles and Pelhams were “such a bore to clean,” he pulled the whole time. Paul’s arms felt as though they were being pulled out of their sockets; to ease them, he gave the Turk his head.

“What’s the hurry?” shouted Lewis from behind.

“Are you trying to catch a train?” inquired Charlotte.

Paul pulled up the unwilling Turk. “Do come on,” he shouted. “What’s the matter with you?”

“We don’t want to ruin our horses’ legs,” said Charlotte.

“If they can’t stand up to a perfectly ordinary trot they’re not much use,” said Paul. “Feeble animals,” he added contemptuously.

“October isn’t feeble,” said Tina furiously, “but I’m not going to make him have swelled legs.”

“If you’re going to be such a beastly nuisance you’d better go for a ride by yourself,” said Lewis to Paul.

“Steady, October, steady,” said Tina to October, who, startled by Extra’s sudden appearance from a hedge, had bounded forward with a buck. “You are a beastly dog,” Tina told him, putting her feet into her stirrups and straightening her crash cap.

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