Mr Pulvertoft's Equestrian Experiences.

Evening Star, Issue 7188, 16 April 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

Mr Pulvertoft's Equestrian Experiences.

[By F. Anstey, author of ‘ Vice Versa.’]

It was on the way to Sandown Park that I met him first on that horribly wet July afternoon when Bendigo won the Eclipse Stakes. He sat opposite to me in the train going down, and my attention was first attracted to him by the marked contrast between his appearance and his attire. He had not thought fit to adopt the regulation costume for such occasions, and I think I never saw a man who had made himself more aggressively horsey. The mark of the beast was sprinkled oyer his linen ; he wore snaffle sleeve-links, a hard hunting hat, a Newmarket coat, and extremely tight trousers. And yet with all this he fell as far short of the genuine sportsman as any actor who ever wore his spurs upside down in a hunting chorus. His expression was mild and inoffensive, and his watery pale eyes and receding chin gave one the idea that be was hardly to be trusted astride anything more spirited than a gold-headed cane. And yet, somehow, he aroused compassion rather than any sense of the ludicrous ; he had that look of shrinking self-effacement which comes of a recent humiliation, and, in spite of all extravagances, he was obviously a gentleman; while something in his manner indicated that his natural tendency would, once at all events, have been to avoid any kind of extremes.

He puzzled and interested me so much that I did my best to enter into conversation with him, only to be baffled by a jerky embarrassment with which he met all advances, and when we got ,o,ut at Esher, curiosity led me to keep him still in view. Evidently he had not come with any intention of making money. He avoided the grand stand, with the bookmakers huddling in couples, like hoarse lovebirds; he kept away from the members’ inclosure, where the Guards’ band was endeavoring to defy the elements which emptied their vials into the brazen instruments ; he drifted listlessly about the course till the clearing-bell rang, and it seemed as if he was searching for someone whom he only wished to discover in order to avoid.

Sandown Park, it must be admitted, was not as gay as usual that day, with its “deluged park” and ‘ ‘unsuuimer’d sky,” its waterproofed toilettes and massed umbrellas, whose sides gleamed livid as they caught the light; hut there was a general determination to ignore the unseasonable dampness as far as possible, and an excitement over the main event of the day which no downpour could quench, The Ten .Thousand was run : ladies with marvellously confected bonnets lowered their umbrellas without a murmur, and smart men on drags shook hands effusively as, amidst a frantic roar of delight, Bendigo strode past the post. The moment after, 1 looked ronnd for my incongruous stranger, and saw him in a well-meant attempt to press a currant bun upon a carriage horse tethered to one of the trees-~a feat of abstraction which, at such a time, was only surpassed by that of Archimedes at the sack of Syracuse. After that I could no longer control my curiosity—l felt I must speak to him again, and I made an opportunity later, as we stood alone on a stand which commanded the finish of oue of the shorter courses, by suggesting that he should share my umbrella.

Before accepting he glanced suspiciously at me through the rills that streamed from his unprotected hat-brim. I’m afraid,” I said, “it is raljher shutting the stable door after the steed is stolen.” He started. *‘ He was stolen, then,” he cried ; so you have heard ? ” I explained that I had only used an old E reverb which I thought might appeal to im, and he sighed heavily “T[ was misled for the moment,” he said; “ you have guessed, then, that I have been accustomed to horses V’

V You have hardly ma|de any greaj of it,” •' -

“ The fatt. is," ba-said, instantly understanding this allusion to his costume, “I I put on these things so as not to lose the habit of riding altogether—l have not been on horseback lately. At one time I used to ride constantly constantly. I was a regular attendant in Rotten Row —until something occurred which shook my nerves, and I am only waiting now for the shock to subside.”

I did not like to ask any questions, and we walked back to the station, and travelled up to Waterloo in company, without any further reference to the subject. As we were parting, however, he said: “ I wonder if you would care to hear my full story some day ? I cannot .help thinking it would interest yon, and it would be a relief to me.”

I was ready enough to hear whatever he chose to tell me, and persuaded him to dine with me at my rooms that evening and unbosom himself afterwards, which he did to an extent for which I confess I was unprepared. That he himself implicitly believed in his own story I could not doubt; and he told it throughout with the oddest mixture, of vanity and modesty, and an obvious straggle between a dim perception of his own absurdity and the determination to spare himself in no single particular which, though it did not overcome my scepticism, could not fail to enlist sympathy. But for all that, by the time he entered upon the more sensational part of his case I was driven to form conclusions respecting it which, as they will probably force themselves upon the reader’s own mind, I need not anticipate here, I give the story, as far as possible, in the words of its author; and have only to add that it would never have been published here without his full consent and approval. My name, said he, is Gnstavus Pulvertoft. I have no occupation and six hundred a-year. I lived a quiet and contented bachelor until I was twenty-eight, and then 1 met Diana Ghetwynd for the first .time. We were spending Christmas at the same country-house, and it did not'. take me long to become the most devoted of her many adorers. She. was one of the most variously acoomplisbed girls I have ever met. She was a skilled musician, a brilliant amateur actress; she could give most men thirty out of a hundred at billiards, and her Judgment and daring across the most difficult country had won her the warm admiration of all huntingmen. And she was neither fast nor horsey, seeming to find but little pleasure in the society of mere sportsmen, in whose conversation she infinitely preferred that, of persons who, like myself, were rather agreeable than athletic. I was not at that time, whatever I may be now, without my share of good looks, and for some reason it pleased Diana to show me a degree of favor which she accorded to no other member of the house-party. Tt was annoying to feel that my unfamiliarity with the open-air sports in which she delighted debarred me from her company to so great an extent; for it often happened that I scarcely saw, her until the evening, when I sometimes bad the bliss of sitting next to her at dinner; but on these occasions I could not help seeing that she found some pleasure in my society. I don’t think I have mentioned that, besides being exquisitely lovely, Diana was an heiress, and it was not without a sense of my own presumption.. that I allowed myself to entertain the Rope of winning her at some future day. Still, I was not absolutely penniless, and she was her own mistress, and I had some cause, as I have said, for believing that she was, at least, not ill-disposed towards me. It seemed a favorable sign, for instance, when sKe asked me one day wky it was I never rode. 1 replied that 1 had not ridden for years—though I did not add that the exact number of those years was twenty-eight, u Oh, but you must take it up again 1” she said, with the prettiest air of imperiousness. “ You ought to ride in the .Row next season.”

“If I did,” I said, “would you let me ride with you sometimes ?” “We should meet, of course,” she said, “ and it is such a pity not to keep up your riding—you lose so much by not doing so.” Was I wrong in taking this as jap intimation that, by following her advice, I should not lose my reward? If you had seen her face as she spoke you would have, thought as I did then—as Ido now. And so, with this incentive, I overcame any private misgivings, and soon after my return to town attended a fashionable riding-school near Hyde Park, with the fixed determination to acquire the whole art and mystery of horsemanship. That I found learning a pleasure I cannot i—conscientiously declare. I have passed happier hours than those I spent In cantering round four bare whitewashed walls, on a snorting horse, with interdicted stirrups crossed upon the saddle. The ridingmaster informed me from time to time that I was getting on, and I knew instinctively when I was coming off; but 1 .most,have made some progress, for my instructor became more encouraging. “ Why, when you come here first, Mr Pulvertoftj sir, yon were like a pair o’ tongs on a wall, as they say ; whereas now well, yon can teu yourself how you are,” he would say, though, even then, 1 I occasionally had reason, to regret that I was. not ■, .on a wall. However, I persevered, inspired by the thought that each fresh: horse I crossed (and some were ' very fresh) represented one more barrier surmounted between myself and Diana, and encouraged by the discovery, after repeated experiments, that tan was rather soothing to fall upon than otherwise. When I walked in the Bow, where * few horsemen were performing as harbingers of spring, I criticised their riding, which I thought indifferent, as they neglected nearly all the rules. I began to anticipate & day when 1 should exhibit a purer and more classic style of equestrianism.’ And one morning I saw Diana, who pullei up her dancing little mare to ash me if p had remembered her advice, and I felt able to reply that X should certainLy make my appearance in the Bow before vejy long. From thqt day I was perpetually' questioning my riding-master as to when be considered I should be ripe for Bottea Bow —the word “ripe” suggests a but I did not think of that then. He was dubious, but not actually dissuasive. “It's like this, you see, sir,” he explained? “If you get hold of a quiet, steady hone, why, you wont come*ta no. harm; but, if yoa go out on an animal that will take advantage of you, Mr Putvertoft, why, .yoaH be all nohow on him, sir.” They would have mounted me at the school; but I knew most of the stud tbepre, and none of them quite came up to my Ideal of a “ quiet, steady horse ”; so I went to & neighboring job-master, from whom 1 had occasionally hired a brougham, and asked to be shown an animal he could reoonunehd to one who had not had much practice lately. He admitted candidly enough that most of his horses “took a deal of ridmm’ , ‘hut added that it so happened that he am one just then which would suit me “down to the ground”—a phrase which grajbed unpleaaantly on my nerves, though I consented to see the horse. His aspect imp&ssed me moat favorably. He was a chestnut of noble proportions, with a hogged mane; but what reassured me was the expression of Ida eye, indicating as it did a self-respeq| and sagacity which one would hardly expect for seven and sixpence an hour. “ You won’t get a showier Bark than what he is,, not to be so quiet,”, said hls owner. “ He’s what you may call a kind ’oss, and as gentle—you could ride him on a pack-thread?’ I considered reins safer, bntlwas powerfully drawn towards the horse'; he to me to be sensible that he had ia to'lose, and to possess too high an intelligence wilfully to, forfeit his high testimonials. With hardly a second thought I engaged. him fqr the following afternoon. I mounted at the stables, with pat a passing qualm, perhaps, while my stirrupleathers being adjusted, and a little awkwardness in taking up my reins, which were morn twisted than X cauld have wished ; however, at length, 1 found myself embarked in the stream of traffic on the back of tha ■ chestnut—whose name, by the < pty, was : Brutus.

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