Fredericksburg High School - Rapahanoc Yearbook (Fredericksburg, VA)

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It was the Colonel who spoke, and we walked down to where “Ben” stood. Cautiously I approached “Ivan,” as “Ben was known to me, and stretched out my hand. “Ivan,” I said, too low for the Colonel to hear me, “Ivan,” old boy.” He pricked up his ears, whinnied softly, and stretched out his head towards me. “Look out! screamed the Colonel; “he’ll tear you to pieces!” The others had now arrived and I joined them. “Bally fine horse,” drawled the titled Englishman. “Say, old top,” addressing the Colonel, “do you mind if 1 ride him?” “Oh, no,” assured the Colonel, “only you had better take him to a pile of straw, the ground about here is very hard.” But with a confident smile, the Englishman approached “Ivan,” seized the pommel and swung into the saddle. “Ivan” plunged and reared, but Bill kept him under control. The others did not mount, only waited, nervously expectant. Ehe Englishman settled himself in the saddle, and I saw at once that in spite of his small size and feminine looks, he knew how to ride a horse. “All right, ole top,” he drawled, “let him go, I have him.” The negro released his grip on the bridle. “Ivan stood perfectly still for a second, then he humped his back, stiffened his legs and began to buck, and when “Ivan” began to buck things used to come off him. The girls screamed and the Colonel swore. Ivan took two stiff jumps and bucked with such ferocity that the poor, brave, little Englishman, who had kept his seat so well, was hurled through the air, and fell in a heap on the sod. The frightened crowd Hew to his aid but he wasn’t hurt, only a bit shaken up and rather dazed. Bill had now recaptured “Ivan and the Colonel swore the horse should be shot. “Please, Colonel,” I said, coming forward, “let me ride him first.” I he Colonel looked at me and rubbed his eyes and looked again. “Very well,” he said, “bring him here, Bill.” 1 he astonished fellow led the horse up and renewed his grip on him. I went up to “Ivan and started to mount, the girls protested violently, and declared I should not do it. 1 he Colonel had no idea I was serious and grasping my arm he forced me to leave the horse. “But just let me sit on his back, 1 begged. “Bill can hold him —please “Well, you may do that but you shall get off at once,” grudgingly said the Colonel. As I stepped up to “Ivan” and jumped in the saddle, everybody looked just as if they had expected me to be thrown clean out of North Carolina. 70

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Rapahanoc T wentv-two “You live here!” I almost shrieked, but 1 caught myself in time to add, in a bored tone, “Why, yes, 1 think I shall like it; it is quite attractive.” At this moment we reached the house, and a bevy of people came out to meet us. I was formally introduced, and we exchanged the usual greetings. They were a widely different bunch, and I became so confused under my set smile, newly acquired sweet voice, and dignity, that I could have embraced the maid who came to show me to my rooms. Once there, I seated myself in my elegant surroundings, and tried to see how many names I could remember, the only one that 1 had the slightest recollection of was a titled somebody, who pronounced all his words as if they ended with an “h.” Later I found out this little Englishman was the “wonderful surprise.” Well things went fine for the first few days, 1 learned everyone’s name, and Col. and Mrs. Nevil were lovely to me, but I felt dreadfully unsophisticated, the rest of the guests did everything better than I did, and 1 wished that something would turn up that I could do to make them “sit up and take notice.” Though I knew they must think me green, 1 cou ld never have discovered it from their attitudes. They were such a tactful bunch. At last my opportunity came, just two days after I’d promised Sally to remain a few days longer. One evening, just before dinner, we were all seated in the library, when the Col. suggested we all take a horseback ride the next morning. “But,” he added, “if you all go some one will have to ride Ben,” as there are only eight saddle horses on the place.” “Who’ll ride him, father?” protested Sally. “He hates men, and of course he isn’t safe for the girls.” “What’s the matter with Ben?” I asked. “Matter!” stormed the Colonel, “Why not only is he the handsomest and best saddle horse in the State, but he is the meanest piece of horse flesh 1 have ever laid eyes upon. He’s thrown or tried to throw every man on this place. He’s prac¬ tical ly worthless to me, and but for his beauty I’d sell him—no one dares use him.” Dinner was announced, and the horses were forgotten. The next morning the saddle horses were brought up to the porch by the grooms. They w’ere all fine animals, spirited but perfectly trained. The last one was a black, tall and slender, magnificently formed, with a white face and flashing eyes, clean limbed as a gazelle. Prancing, pawing, chaffing the bit, the black was brought around by Bill, a huge mulatto, who succeeded in holding “Ben” to the ground. 1 thought the horse looked familiar, and imagine my surprise, as he drew nearer, to recognize the black colt I had trained in Virginia. I couldn’t believe my eyes, and I was just getting over the shock, when a voice announced at my elbow, “That ' s ‘Ben,’ the black; come down and have a look at him. Bill has him securely.” 69

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“Let go that horse’s head,” I demanded the negro in a low voice, “I can ride him. I broke him.” The negro meekly obeyed, the girls screamed and hid their faces, the men dashed forward, but too late, at a word from me, and a little pull on the bridle rein “Ivan” plunged, reared forward as I had taught him years before, and cantered off briskly down the drive. After driving to the gate I turned “Ivan,” rode back to the little group and remarked: “Colonel, you have a fine saddle horse here. I suppose you are very proud of him ?” Every one crowded about about, eager to congratulate me. The Colonel was dum- founded, and 1 didn’t give him time to reply. “May 1 try to put “Ben” through his gaits for you?” I asked, and taking the request as his consent, I rode “Ivan” for quite a while. He went through every one of his old saddle gaits like the perfect gentleman he always was with me. Then at my request, Bill put up the hurdles and “Ivan” jumped to his heart’s content. He was really a wonderful horse, and his splendid action was highly appreciated. At last I stopped. “Ivan” was tired and I fancied they all thought me possessed. So, riding up to my audience, I reined in “him” and said, “I feel that I owe you all an explanation, although it’s going to spoil everything to tell you.” “Ben,” or rather “Ivan,” as he is known to me, used to be my saddle horse. Father sold him to a fancy horse dealer when I went away to school. 1 don’t know why, but he has al¬ ways hated men, but a woman can ha idle him with perfect safety, he is just an ordi¬ nary horse if ridden by a girl; so you see,” I added, “I’m really no heroine, only a bunch of deceit.” “Ivan,” said the Colonel, “is too fine a horse to be ruined; please accept him with my compliments. You deserve him, and no sensible person will ever ride him again.” Smilingly I thanked the Colonel and declined, for you see “Ivan” had thrown Dad just before he sold him, and Dad never would allow me to ride a horse that “could throw him if he knew it.” Of course, the rest of my stay was wonderful. 1 became a heroine and 1 really regretted leaving “Ivan.” Sally has written me to spend this summer with her, and she adds in the post¬ script: “Dad still keeps ‘Ivan, the terrible,’ for you. S. N.” Katherine Wayne Gouldin. 71