There was, after all though, just one person
among the competitors for distinction that day
who was not thrown, but he escaped by means
so contemptible that few would wish to follow
his example. He was a young man and an
amateur, and the Mechanical Horse seemed
inclined to deal very leniently with him. The
movements of the M. H. were much more slow
and gradual now than they had been previously.
But as the time approached when, as we all
knew, another kind of behaviour might be
expected from this treacherous animal, and just as
the "quick movement" was beginning, and we
were all settling in our places to the full enjoyment
of the anticipated crisis, this shameless
young man then and there, with the eye of the
Public upon him, was heard to utter a request
that the machinery should be stopped, after
which he said that "he thought he would get
off," and actually did so.

After this there was nothing to be done but
to depart with all speed from the scene of so
disgraceful a proceeding. And it must be owned
that it was a pleasant thing to pass from that
dismal loft into that Dutch picture already
described, with the straw, and the sand, and the
red bricks, and the stable-cats.

And now just one word as to the usefulness
of the Mechanical Horse.

It appears that there are really two or three
of these pieces of machinery in use in different
parts of Germany, and that riding is actually
taught by means of them. Colonel von Hamel
contends that they are of especial value in a
cavalry barrack, and that you may "teach by
means of one Mechanical Horse, which will last
at least forty years, as many men as on ten
living horses." Of course the strong point with
the partisans of this invention is this: they
argue that since men who can ride perfectly well
the living animal cannot keep upon the back of
the Mechanical Horse, that, therefore, it must
be more difficult to ride the latter than the
former, and that having learnt to master the
more difficult thing the easier thing will come
quite naturally. This is, however, hardly fair.
The natural horse which these men can ride is
not an animal which behaves—even if a vicious
horse— in the frantic manner in which the
Mechanical Horse conducts itself. If it did— if a
real horse went on as this sham horse does,
plunging, kicking, flinging itself from side to
side, or even down on the ground, and all this
continuously and without cessation, it is not too
much to say that it would be twice as formidable
a monster as this one in Piccadilly, and would
dispose of its riders at least twice as quickly.
The beast would be a phenomenon in nature,
and would make us think Cruiser a lamb. And
then the action of the Mechanical Horse is not
natural. In plunging, in rearing, in shying, and
swerving round, the real horse generally changes
his ground, that is to say, that with these actions
is generally combined a certain amount of
progression, retro-gression, or—if the expression
may be allowed—latero-gression. With the
Mechanical Horse this is quite out of the question.
The iron support by which he is moved remains
always in one spot in the middle of the room.

These things duly weighed, it may yet be
found that the Mechanical Horse has a right to
a place in the manège. Great advantages belong
to him, no doubt. He is a light feeder, and he
is not liable to all those spavins, splints,
sandcracks, and other afflictions which beset the
living animal. Certain it is that it is a very
difficult thing to keep upon his back, and all the
more so because, as one of our horsey friends
intimated but now, he gives you no notice of
what he is going to do next.

ROOKS AND HERONS.

RAVENS, crows, and rooks, form a natural
group. They have much in common. They
give themselves the same names by their cries
—" krow, kraw, and kr-a-a." All are rooks or
hoarse-voices (French rauque, pronounced rokh);
and if raven comes from the Saxon refan, whence
riving and reiver, they are all ravens. This
vagueness in their popular names shows that
they were all named from their cries and habits
before they were distinguished as species. And,
indeed, the crow, corby or hoody, is but a lesser
raven, and the rook differs from the ravens in
little except the instinct for breeding in societies
instead of solitary pairs. Ravens, crows, and
rooks, have all grey-green eggs, spotted and
blotched with smoky brown. The ravens build
their nests in tops of trees and cracks, or nooks
of rocks, or cliffs, lining a framework of sticks
with wool or hair. The nest of the crow is
built on the tops of trees, and consists of a
fabric of sticks plastered together with mud,
and lined with sheep's wool or horsehair. The
hoodies build their nests on rocks, or cliffs, or
trees, of sticks, heather, and wool. Rooks build
their nests on the tops of tall trees, of large
sticks, hay, straw, sheep's wool, and horsehair.
There being nothing specific in the mere size of
eggs, no one can distinguish the egg of a raven,
a crow, a hoody, or a rook, by any important
peculiarity of colouring. As for applying the
word carrion to one species more than another,
it is entirely unwarranted, for they are all de-
vourers of carrion. The colouring of the plumage
of the ravens, crows, and rooks, is no more
distinguishable than the colouring of their eggs,
for it is a lustrous bluish-black on the back
and wings, with dusky hues beneath. The
hoody, however, differs from the others in the
colouring of the plumage, the back, breast, belly,
and upper part of the neck being ash colour,
with the rest of it bluish-black. The crow, rook,
and hoody, can scarcely be said to differ in size,
being about twenty inches long; whilst the
raven is from four to six inches longer. The
crow, rook, and hoody, weigh about twenty
ounces, and the raven three pounds.

All the Curvbeaks were invested with
superstitious awe by the piety of our ancestors, but
especially the raven. I have been one of a pack
of noisy schoolboys who have been awed into