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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
107
September
8.
Returned
to
Southampton
yesterday.
Have
spent
the
night
at
Okehampton
in
Devonshire
en
route
for
T----
Rectory.
This
morning
we
hatched
the
ridiculous
idea
of
hiring
two
little
Dartmoor
ponies
and
riding
out
from
the
town.
A----
rides
fairly
well
tho'
he
has
not
been
astride
a
beast
for
years.
As
for
me,
I
cannot
ride
at
all!
Yet
I
had
the
idea
that
I
could
easily
manage
a
pretty
little
pony
with
brown
eyes
and
a
long
tail.
On
going
out
into
the
Inn
yard,
was
horrified--two
horses
saddled--one
a
large
traction
beast....
I
climbed
on
to
the
smaller
one,
walked
him
out
of
the
yard
and
down
the
road
in
good
style
without
accident.
Once
in
the
country,
however,
my
animal,
the
fresher
of
the
two,
insisted
on
a
smart
trot
which
shook
me
up
a
good
deal
so
that
I
hardly
kept
my
seat.
This
eventually
so
annoyed
the
animal
that
it
began
to
fidget
and
zigzag
across
the
road--no
doubt
preparing
to
break
away
at
a
stretch
gallop
when
once
it
had
rid
itself
of
the
incomprehensible
pair
of
legs
across
its
back.
I
got
off
quickly
and
swopped
horses
with
A----.
Walked
him
most
of
the
way,
while
A----
cantered
forward
and
back
to
cheer
me
on.
Ultimately
however
this
beast,
too,
got
sick
of
walking
and
began
to
trot.
For
a
time
I
stood
this
well
and
began
to
rise
in
my
saddle
quite
nicely.
After
two
miles,
horrible
soreness
supervened,
and
I
had
to
get
off--very
carefully,
with
a
funny
feeling
in
my
legs--even
looked
down
at
them
to
assure
myself
they
were
not
bandy!
In
doing
so,
the
horse--this
traction
monster--stepped
on
my
toe
and
I
swore.
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