"Give him black Hannibal, Jous," Christina had said to her groom;
and when the Dutch envoy, Van Beunigen, came out to join the
hunting-party, too much flattered by the invitation to remember
that he was a poor horseman, Jous, the groom, held black Hannibal
in unsteady check, while the big horse champed and fretted, and
the hunting-party awaited the new member.
But Jous, the groom, noted the Dutchman's somewhat alarmed look
at the big black animal.
"Would it not be well, good sir," he said, "that you do choose
some steadier animal than Hannibal here? I pray you let me give
you one less restive. So, Bror Andersson," he called to one of
the under-grooms, "let the noble envoy have your cob, and take
you back Hannibal to the stables."
But no, the envoy of the States of Holland would submit to no
such change. He ride a servant's horse, indeed!
"Why, sirrah groom," he said to good-hearted Jous, "I would have
you know that I am no novice in the equestrian art. Far from it,
man. I have read every treatise on the subject from Xenophon
downward; and what horse can know more than I?"
So friendly Jous had nothing more to say, but hoisted the
puffed-up Dutch scholar into the high saddle; and away galloped
the hunt toward the Maelar woods.
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