neophyte had consistently torn off the flaps and
burst the girths of every saddle that had been
put on him. Mr. Rarey's weakness from
illness was so great, that he could barely be
lifted upon the saddle. Still this horse allowed
him quietly to saddle and mount it after five
and thirty minutes; and his companion Mr.
Goodenough completed the task by making it
move as well next day: a point which it had
suddenly refused to concede to Mr. Rarey.

The zebra has required as much taming as
a hundred horses, and now the huge wooden
roller-bit has been discarded, and that
rare-loined child of the desert has, like
Cruiser, formally vowed allegiance, follows
him round the ring in a plain snaffle, and
seldom indulges in his defiant whinnies.
He came from the Zoological Gardens (in a
cage that looks strong enough to confine
three lions) the most ultra combination of vice
and cleverness. He would walk round his
loose-box on his hind legs, and bite the rafters
to splinters. Suddenly, changing his style,
he would come to the door as if courting a
caress, and keep gradually drawing his head
along your fingers till they were almost at
his mouth, pausing an instant, to throw you
off your guard, and then snap at them as
smartly as a lock falls on a percussion-cap.
During his training he was a perfect Grimaldi
in his way, as he would tuck his head in by
his side, and throw four or five somersaults,
in rapid succession, and so artistically, that he
is said to be the only animal that ever made
Mr. Rarey laugh heartily in England. As
we might expect, his temper is still fitful;
and his conduct on his second appearance in
his new character, was hardly so conciliatory
as on the first.

Mr. Rarey's style of lecturing has lost all
the little angularities it possessed at first,
and his answers to questions—which are
anything but so searching as we might have
expected from a British audience—are, at
times, very happy. What puzzles them most
seems to be his assertion, that a horse may be
quiet with his hind legs, and not with his
fore, or tame on one side, and not on the
other.

Not a few ladies have become practitioners,
and have taken sixteen-hand horses as their
first subjects with complete success. As a general
rule, the higher-bred the horse, the greater
the difficulty; and small horses invariably
show the most determined spirit. Lord
Raglan's little grey Arab fought most
brilliantly.

Among so large a number of disciples
failures have been rife, while several have
taken to the secret instantly, and seem to
subdue their subjects with an ease very
little inferior to Mr. Rarey's. In this, as in
everything else, natural knack and love for
horses must, in a great measure, insure
success, or the contrary. Ten men, with the
same length of thigh, may mount the same
horse, and the same saddle, and perhaps only
one will have a proper seat. So it is with
cooks. Ten may be set to make tart-crust
from the same dough, and yet, owing to some
indescribable hand-touch, eight will make it
like lead, one decently, and the tenth, so that
it will melt in the mouth. Twenty lads may
be taken into a great stable; yet, after
the tuition of years, one, or at most, two
out of the lot, will prove to have
sufficient nerve, and hand, and eye, to ride
a race, or take a horse across country. If
the system is to fulfil all that is vowed in
its name, it would seem imperative on Mr.
Rarey to form classes at a reduced price,
for grooms and breakers; for, unless the
crust of mannerism and self-conceit of these
men is broken down, the horse is still in the
Iron Age. Masters can do very little to
remove the hide-bound prejudices of this
class, by merely talking to them of the results
of what they have seen. Hoary grooms and
"experienced" trainers will not believe that
Mr. Rarey can approach or saddle a horse better
than themselves, till they actually see him do
it, and the vexation of being excluded under
present arrangements, both by price and
position, has not impressed them in his favour.
If ladies are admitted at five guineas, why
should not groom-classes be formed at some
of the great towns at that price, or even
three guineas? It is idle to parade a secret
as a blessing to the public, unless it is put
before them in a less dilettante guise, and
brought within the reach of those who are
to be the real operators after all. A country
gentleman may sit in the Round House, a
whole London season, and yet feel himself
perfectly paralysed for action among his
horses at home, unless his groom is cognisant
of the process as well as himself. Is he to
get the key of the stable over night, and
watch for the dawn, till he can take his
horse secretly into a barn or outhouse? Or
is he to do it at a more congenial hour;
with a friendly, Rareyite, watching outside,
and straw stuffed into every aperture, to baffle
the Peeping Toms of the farm. And
supposing that after considerable dodging (not
very pleasing to the mind of any one who
has paid ten guineas, and knows that
a pupil of the English horse-tamer, Mr.
Telfer only pays ten and sixpence, and
yet gets his horses down, and beats
drums on them, in the face of day), he does
contrive to operate in peace; he knows pretty
well that his groom will assuredly counteract
a good deal at least, of what he has done,
and handle his pitchfork and his epithets as
glibly as ever.

When Cruiser has gone back a sadder and
a wiser horse, to the country, and no unicorn
can be found to follow suit with the humbled
zebra, we trust that this great discovery
may assume a more practical character. Till
the great groom-world is conquered by an
actual sight of Mr. Rarey teaching an
unbroken colt to carry a man pleasantly in