water; and she lost both her presence of mind and her seat, and plumped
swash into the pond--her riding habit spreading out into a beautiful
circle--while she lay squalling and bawling out in the centre, like a
little piece of beef in the middle of a large batter-pudding! Miss
Scragg, meanwhile, stuck to her graymare, and went bumping along to the
admiration of all beholders, and was soon out of sight: luckily a joskin,
who witnessed my dear aunt's immersion, ran to her assistance, and, with
the help of his pitch-fork, safely landed her; for unfortunately the pond
was not above three or four feet deep! and so she missed the chance of
being an angel!"

"And you the transfer of her threes!--what a pity!" said the sympathizing
Mr. Timmis.

"When I heard of the accident, of course, as in duty bound, I wrote an
anxious letter of affectionate enquiry and condolence. At the same
period, seeing an advertisement in the Times--'To be sold, warranted
sound, a gray-mare, very fast, and carries a lady; likewise a bay-cob,
quiet to ride or drive, and has carried a lady'--I was so tickled with
the co-incidence, that I cut it out, and sent it to her in an envelope."

"Prime! by Jove!"--shouted Mr. Crobble--"But, I say, Wallis--you should
have sent her a 'duck' too, as a symbolical memorial of her accident!"




CHAPTER X.--The Pic-Nic.

--had just spread out their prog on a clean table-cloth, when they were