My purse did not permit me to
own expensive horses. On this occasion I was riding an animal, a buggy
horse originally, which its owner sold because now and then it insisted
on thoughtfully lying down when in harness. It never did this under the
saddle; and when he turned it out to grass it would solemnly hop over
the fence and get somewhere where it did not belong. The last trait
was what converted it into a hunter. It was a natural jumper, although
without any speed. On the hunt in question I got along very well until
the pace winded my ex-buggy horse, and it turned a somersault over a
fence. When I got on it after the fall I found I could not use my left
arm. I supposed it was merely a strain. The buggy horse was a sedate
animal which I rode with a snaffle. So we pounded along at the tail of
the hunt, and I did not appreciate that my arm was broken for three or
four fences. Then we came to a big drop, and the jar made the bones slip
past one another so as to throw the hand out of position. It did not
hurt me at all, and as the horse was as easy to sit as a rocking-chair,
I got in at the death.
I think August Belmont was master of the hunt when the above incident
occurred.
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