All in a wow.
_Sothern_.
And you really fancy, Esmeralda, that you are ready for class
lessons? You have been in the saddle only six times, remember.
But you have been assured, on the highest authority, that fifty
lessons in class are worth a hundred private lessons? And the
same authority says that the class lessons should be preceded by
at least twice as much private instruction as you have enjoyed;
but, naturally, you suppress this unfavorable context. You think
that you cannot begin to subject yourself to military discipline
so soon?
After that highly edifying statement of your feelings, Esmeralda,
hasten away to school before the dew evaporates from your dawning
humility, and make arrangements for entering a class of
beginners. You are fortunate in arriving half way between two
"hours," and find to your delight that you may begin to ride with
five or six other pupils on the next stroke of the clock, and you
hasten to array yourself, and come forth just in time to see
another class, a long line of pretty girls, making its closing
rounds, the leader sitting with exquisitely balanced poise, which
seems perfectly careless, but is the result of years of training
and practice; others following her with somewhat less grace, but
still accomplishing what even your slightly taught vision
perceives to be feats of management far beyond you; still others,
one blushing little girl with her hat slung on her arm, the heavy
coils of her hair falling below her waist; and an assistant
master riding with the last pupil, who is less skillful than the
others, while another master rides up and down the line or stands
still in the centre of the ring, criticising, exhorting,
praising, using sarcasm, entreaty and sharp command, until the
zeal and energy of all Gaul seem centered in his speech.
The clock strikes, and in a trice the whole class is dismounted,
and its members have scampered away to make themselves presentable
for the journey home, and to you, awaiting your destiny in the
reception room, enter Versatilia, the beauty, and the society young
lady, and Nell, and you stare at them in wrathful astonishment
fully equalled by theirs, and then, in the following grand outburst
of confession, you are informed that, each one having planned to
outgeneral the others and to become a wondrous equestrian, the
Fates and the wise fairy who, sitting in a little room overlooking
the ring, presides over the destinies of classes, have willed that
you should be taught together.
"And there are three other young ladies who have never ridden at
all," the wise fairy says, "and they are to ride behind you, and
you must do very well in order to encourage them," she adds with
a kind smile; and then there is a general muster of grooms and
horses, and in a moment you are all in your saddles and walking
about the ring, into which, an instant after, another lady rides
easily and gracefully, to be saluted by both masters with a sigh
of relief, and requested to take the lead, which she does,
trotting lightly across the ring, wheeling into line and falling
into a walk with trained precision, and now the lesson really
begins.
"You must understand, ladies," says the teacher, that you must
always, in riding in class, keep a distance of about three feet
between your horse and the one before you, and that you must
preserve this equally in the corners, on the short sides of the
school, and on the long sides."
"That's easy enough, I'm sure," says the society young lady,
taking it upon herself to answer, and eliciting an expression of
astonishment from the teacher, not because he is surprised, habit
already rendering him sadly familiar with young women of her
type, but because he wishes to relegate her to her proper
position of submissive silence as soon as may be.
"You think so?" he asks. "Then we shall depend on you to regard
the distance with great accuracy. At present you are two feet too
far in the rear. Forward! Now, ladies, when I say 'forward,' it
is not alone for one; it is for all of you; each one must look
and see whether or not her horse is in the right place. And she
must not bend sideways to do it, Miss Versatilia. She must look
over her horse's head between his ears. Now, forward! Now, look
straight between your horse's ears, each one of you, and see
something on the horse before you that is just on a line with the
top of his head, and use that as a guide to tell you whether or
not you are in place! Now, forward, Miss--Miss Lady! Not so
fast! Keep walking! Do not let him trot! Keep up in the corners!
Do not let your horse go there to think! Use your whip lightly!
Not so, not so!" as the society young lady brings down her whip,
half on the shoulder of gentle Toto, half on his saddle, and sets
him dancing lightly out of line, to the discomfiture of
Versatilia's horse, who follows him from a sense of duty.
"Take your places again," cries your teacher, "and keep to the
wall! If you had had proper control of your horse, that would not
have happened, Miss Versatilia! Now, Miss Lady, hold your whip in
the hollow of your hand, and use it by a slight movement, not by
raising your arm and lashing, lashing, lashing as if you were on
the race course. A lady is not a jockey, and she should employ
her whip almost as quietly as she moves her left foot. Forward,
forward! And keep on the track, ladies! Keep your horses' heads
straight by holding your reins perfectly even, then their bodies
will be straight, and you will make one line instead of being on
six lines as you are now. And, Miss Esmeralda, forward! Use your
whip! Not so gently! It is not always enough to give your horse
one little tap. Give him many, one after the other with quickened
movement, so that he will understand that you are in a hurry. It
is like the reveille which sounds ever louder until everybody is
awake!
"Now, you must not make circles! Make squares! Go into the
corners! Don't pull on your horse's head, Miss Nell! He thinks
that you mean him to stop, and then you whip him and he tries to
go on, and you pull again, and he knows not what to think. Always
carry out whatever purpose you begin with your horse if you can.
If sometimes you make a mistake, and cannot absolutely correct it
because of those behind you, guide your horse to his proper
place, and the next time that you come to that part of the ring,
make him go right! Forward, forward! Ladies, not one of you is in
the right place! Keep up! Keep up! Miss Lady, you must go forward
regularly! Now prepare to trot! No, no! Walk! When I say,
'Prepare to trot,' it is not for you to begin, but to think of
what you must do to begin, and you must not let your horses go
until I give the second order, and then not too fast at first.
Now, prepare to trot! Trot! Not quite so fast, Miss Lady; gently!
Keep up, keep up, Miss Beauty! Miss Esmeralda, you are sitting
too far to the left, your left shoulder is too far back! on't
hold your hands so high, Miss Versatilia! Rise straight, Miss
Esmeralda! Now, remember, ladies, what I say is for all. Prepare
to whoa! Whoa!"
The leader, by an almost imperceptible series of movements, first
sitting down in her saddle, then slightly relaxing her hold of
the reins, and turning both hands very slightly inward, brings
her horse to a walk and continues on her way. The others, with
more or less awkwardness, come to a full stop, and your teacher
laughs.
"When I say that," he explains, "I mean to cease trotting, not to
stop. Go forward, and remember how you have been taught to go
forward, Miss Esmeralda. It is not enough to frown at your horse.
Now, prepare to trot! Trot!" And then he repeats again and again
that series of injunctions which already seems so threadbare to
you, Esmeralda, but which you do not follow, not because you do
not try, but because you have not full control of your muscles,
and then comes once more the order, "Prepare to whoa. Whoa!" and
a volley of sharp reminders about the solemn duty of keeping a
horse moving while turning corners, and once more the column
proceeds as regularly as possible.
"I observe," says your teacher, riding close to you, "that you
seem timid, Miss Esmeralda. Do you feel frightened."
"No," you assure him.
"Then it is because you are nervous that you are so rigid. Try
not to be stiff. Give yourself a little more flexibility in the
fingers, the wrists, the elbows, everywhere! You are not tired?
No? Be easy then, be easy!" And you remember that you have been
likened unto a poker, and sadly think that, perhaps the
comparison was just.
"The other master shall ride with you for a few rounds," he
continues; "that will give you confidence, and you will not be
nervous." You indignantly disclaim the possession of nerves, he
smiles indulgently, and the other teacher rides up beside you,
and advises you steadily and quietly during the next succession
of trotting and walking, and, conscious of not exerting yourself
quite so much and of being easier, you begin to think that
perhaps you have a nerve or two somewhere, and you determine to
conquer them.
"You are sitting too far to the right now," says your new guide,
the most quiet of North Britons. "There should be about half an
inch of the saddle visible to you beyond the edge of your habit,
if it fit quite smooth, but you would better not look down to se
it. It would do no harm for once, perhaps, but it would look
queer, and might come to be a habit. Try to judge of your
position by the feeling of your shoulders and by thinking whether
you are observing every rule; but, once in a great while, when you
are walking, take your reins in your left hand, pass your right
hand lightly along the edge of your saddle, ad satisfy yourself
that you are quite correct in position. If you be quite sure that
you can take a downward glance, without moving your head, try it
occasionally, but very rarely. Use this, in fact, as you would
use a measure to verify a drawing after employing every other
test, and if any teacher notice you and reprove you for doing it,
do not allow yourself to use it again for two or three lessons,
for, unless you can be quiet about it, it is better not to use it
at all."
"Ladies, ladies," cries a new voice, at the sound of which the
leader is seen to sit even better than before, "this is not a
church, that you should go to sleep while you are taught truth!
Attend to your instructor! Keep up when he tells you. Make your
movements with energy. You tire him; you tire me; you tire the
good horses! how then, rouse yourselves! Prepare to trot! Trot!"
And away go the horses, for it is not every hour that they hear
the strong voice which means that instant obedience must be
rendered. "Keep up! keep up!" cries your teacher. "Come in!" says
your own guide, and then pauses himself, to urge one of the
beginners behind you, and for a minute or two the orders follow
one another thick and fast, the three men working together, each
seeming to have eyes for each pupil, and to divine the intentions
of his coadjutors, and then comes the order, "Prepare to whoa!
Whoa! and the master sits down on the mounting-stand, and frees
his mind on the subject of corners, a topic which you begin to
think is inexhaustible.
"Please show these ladies how to go into a corner," he concludes,
and your teacher does so, executing the movement so marvelously
that it seems as if he would have no difficulty in performing it
in any passageway through which his horse could walk in a
straight line. The whole class gazes enviously, to be brought to
the proper frame of mind by a sharp expostulatory fire of: "Keep
your distance! Forward!" with about four times as many warnings
addressed to the society young lady as to all the others; and
then suddenly, unexpectedly, the clock strikes and the lesson is
over.
The society young lady dresses herself with much precision and
deliberation, and announces that she will never, no, never! never
so long as she lives, come again; and in spite of Nell's attempts
to quiet her, she repeats the statement in the reception room, in
the master's hearing, aiming it straight at his quiet countenance.
"No?" he says, not so much disturbed as she could desire. "You
should not despair, you will learn in time."
"I don't despair," she answers; "but I know something, and I will
not be treated as if I knew nothing."
"An, you know something," he repeats, in an interested way. "But
what you do not know, my young lady, is how little that something
is! This is a school; you came here to be taught. I will not
cheat you by not teaching you."
"And it is no way to teach! Three men ordering a class at once!"
"Ah, it is 'no way to teach'! Now, it is I who am taking a lesson
from you. I am greatly obliged, but I must keep to my own old
way. It may be wrong--for you, my young lady--but it has made
soldiers to ride, and little girls, and other young ladies, and I
am content. And these others? Are they not coming any more?"
And every one of those cowardly girls huddles away behind you,
Esmeralda, and leaves you to stammer, "Y-yes, sir, but you do
s-scold a little hard."
"That," says the master, "is my bog voice to make the horses
mind, and to make sure that you hear it. And I told you the other
day that I spoke for your good, not for my own. If I should say
every time I want trotting, 'My dear and much respected beautiful
young ladies, please to trot,' how much would you learn in a
morning?"
"We are ladies," says the society young lady, "and we should be
treated as ladies."
"And you--or these others, since you retire--are my pupils,
and shall be treated as my pupils," he says with a courtly bow
and a "Good morning," and you go away trying to persuade the
society young lady to reconsider.
"Not that I care much whether she does or not," Nell says
confidentially to you. "She's too overbearing for me," and just
at that minute the voice of the society young lady is heard to
call the master "overbearing," and you and Nell exchange
delighted, mischievous smiles.
Now for that stiffness of yours, Esmeralda, there is a remedy, as
there is for everything but death, and you should use it
immediately, before the rigidity becomes habitual. Continue your
other exercises, but devote only about a third as much time to
them, and use the other two thirds for Delsarte movements.
First: Let your hands swing loosely from the wrist, and swing
them lifelessly to and fro. Execute the movement first with the
right hand then with the left, then with both.
Second: Let the fingers hang from the knuckles, and shake them in
the same way and in the same order.
Third: Let the forearm hang from the elbow, and proceed in like
manner.
Fourth: Let the whole arm hang from the shoulder, and swing the
arms by twisting the torso.
Execute the finger and hand movements with the arms hanging at
the side, extended sidewise, stretched above the head, thrust
straight forward, with the arms bent at right angles to them and
with the arms flung backward as far as possible. Execute the
forearm movements with the arms falling at the side, and also
with the elbow as high as the shoulder.
After you have performed these exercises for a few days, you will
begin to find it possible to make yourself limp and lifeless when
necessary, and the knowledge will be almost as valuable as the
ability to hold yourself firm and steady. You will find the
exercises in Mrs. Thompson's "Society Gymnastics," but these are
all that you will need for at least one week, especially if you
have to devote many hours to the task of persuading the society
young lady not to leave your class unto you desolate.