The morning the new pony had been tried, the Earl had been so pleased that he had almost forgotten his gout. When the groom had brought out the pretty creature, which arched its brown, glossy neck and tossed its fine head in the sun, the Earl had sat at the open window of the library and had looked on while Fauntleroy took his first riding lesson. He wondered if the boy would show signs of timidity. It was not a very small pony, and he had often seen children lose courage in making their first essay at riding.

Fauntleroy mounted in great delight. He had never been on a pony before, and he was in the highest spirits. Wilkins, the groom, led the animal by the bridle up and down before the library window.

"He's a well plucked un, he is," Wilkins remarked in the stable afterward with many grins. "It weren't no trouble to put HIM up. An' a old un wouldn't ha' sat any straighter when he WERE up. He ses--ses he to me, `Wilkins,' he ses, `am I sitting up straight? They sit up straight at the circus,' ses he. An' I ses, `As straight as a arrer, your lordship!'--an' he laughs, as pleased as could be, an' he ses, `That's right,' he ses, `you tell me if I don't sit up straight, Wilkins!'"