At the Sign of the Hobby Horse #220905

I gallop, fventre-k-terre, straight across country. There may be high hedges of tradition, or ticklish ditches of error, in this wild path, but owning none but true-bred hunting hobbies, at a touch of the heel they clear fences without flicking a rail, and take off cleanly from crumbling banks, and we hardly pause in our stride until we arrive breathless and triumphant at nowhere in particular.