proud of those marks and smudges.
Today, while the more advanced riders were in the jumping class, she was taking a “flat class.” Estelle rode near her on a trail through some fields near Pine Hollow. Estelle’s clothes were even newer than Lisa’s. At first that seemed odd to Lisa, but she realized that Estelle must have bought new clothes in America. It would hardly be worth the trouble to bring a worn outfit all the way from France.
“How come you’re not taking the jumping class?” Lisa asked. “I mean, you did jump, didn’t you, on Napoleon?”
“Napoleon?” Estelle echoed. “Oh, right, well, I can’t jump, see. My doctor won’t let me do it.”
“Why not? He must be a fuddy-duddy doctor if he won’t let an experienced rider like you jump! I mean, Max says it’s okay for us to start jumping as soon as we’ve been riding for a year. I just can’t wait. I mean, I know he’s right, but I’m ready, believe me!”
“I had an accident, you see,” Estelle explained. “When I was a little girl, I hurt my back. I was in the hospital for a long time. I spent my seventh birthday in the hospital, it was horrible. The doctor said I shouldnever jump. The risk is too great. So, here I am. Just happy to be able to ride at all.”
“Oh, that’s terrible. Does it still hurt?”
“My back? Oh, no, but, you see, it
could
hurt, and then I might not be able to ride ever again.” Just then, Nero headed off the trail to the other side of the field at a trot. “
Arretez
!” Estelle yelled at him. “
À gauche! Maintenant! Cheval bête!
” Lisa had had enough French in school to know that Estelle was saying, “Stop! Turn left! Now! Stupid horse!”
Red O’Malley, who was instructing the class while Max worked with the jumpers, broke out of the file of riders and cantered over to rescue Estelle. All the riders watched in astonishment while Nero bolted, dumping Estelle unceremoniously in the grass. Within a few seconds, Red had recaptured the horse and led him back to Estelle. She stood in the middle of the field, brushing dirt and grass off her stylish riding breeches. Lisa suspected she was also rubbing something that was going to be a nasty bruise.
“Up you go,” Red instructed her. Estelle just glared at the horse.
“I don’t think I should have to ride him anymore,” Estelle said. “He is too wild.”
There were snorts of laughter from some of the riders. Everybody knew that Nero wasn’t a wild horse. He was usually very complacent and gentle. Lisa couldn’t understand why sweet old Nero was behaving so badly for Estelle.
“Estelle,” Red said politely, “Nero just needs to have you let him know who is the boss. If he starts acting up, put more leg on him. It will remind him that you’re on board and you’re in charge. If that doesn’t work, put some pressure on the reins. As a matter of fact, here, get up, and I’ll show you what to do.”
Reluctantly, Estelle remounted the horse. Red gave her the reins and explained that if she squeezed her fingers on the reins, alternating hands, it would put just the smallest amount of pressure on the bit in the horse’s mouth. It wouldn’t be enough pressure for him to think it was a signal, but it would be enough to make him think he should pay attention.
“Watch his ears when you do that,” Red suggested. “You’ll see that he’s alert to
you
instead of doing his own thing.”
When Estelle was back in the group they all started trotting. Lisa decided to try what Red had suggested, although her own horse, Pepper, hadn’t been giving her any trouble. As soon as she squeezed the reins, moving them perhaps only a half an inch, Pepper seemed more alert to her, picked up his pace, and lifted his head sharply. It was a neat trick. Once she had his attention, she stopped doing it, but if he lagged, she could try it again.
Estelle, however, didn’t seem to be having the same kind of luck. For the rest of the class she was fighting with
Today, while the more advanced riders were in the jumping class, she was taking a “flat class.” Estelle rode near her on a trail through some fields near Pine Hollow. Estelle’s clothes were even newer than Lisa’s. At first that seemed odd to Lisa, but she realized that Estelle must have bought new clothes in America. It would hardly be worth the trouble to bring a worn outfit all the way from France.
“How come you’re not taking the jumping class?” Lisa asked. “I mean, you did jump, didn’t you, on Napoleon?”
“Napoleon?” Estelle echoed. “Oh, right, well, I can’t jump, see. My doctor won’t let me do it.”
“Why not? He must be a fuddy-duddy doctor if he won’t let an experienced rider like you jump! I mean, Max says it’s okay for us to start jumping as soon as we’ve been riding for a year. I just can’t wait. I mean, I know he’s right, but I’m ready, believe me!”
“I had an accident, you see,” Estelle explained. “When I was a little girl, I hurt my back. I was in the hospital for a long time. I spent my seventh birthday in the hospital, it was horrible. The doctor said I shouldnever jump. The risk is too great. So, here I am. Just happy to be able to ride at all.”
“Oh, that’s terrible. Does it still hurt?”
“My back? Oh, no, but, you see, it
could
hurt, and then I might not be able to ride ever again.” Just then, Nero headed off the trail to the other side of the field at a trot. “
Arretez
!” Estelle yelled at him. “
À gauche! Maintenant! Cheval bête!
” Lisa had had enough French in school to know that Estelle was saying, “Stop! Turn left! Now! Stupid horse!”
Red O’Malley, who was instructing the class while Max worked with the jumpers, broke out of the file of riders and cantered over to rescue Estelle. All the riders watched in astonishment while Nero bolted, dumping Estelle unceremoniously in the grass. Within a few seconds, Red had recaptured the horse and led him back to Estelle. She stood in the middle of the field, brushing dirt and grass off her stylish riding breeches. Lisa suspected she was also rubbing something that was going to be a nasty bruise.
“Up you go,” Red instructed her. Estelle just glared at the horse.
“I don’t think I should have to ride him anymore,” Estelle said. “He is too wild.”
There were snorts of laughter from some of the riders. Everybody knew that Nero wasn’t a wild horse. He was usually very complacent and gentle. Lisa couldn’t understand why sweet old Nero was behaving so badly for Estelle.
“Estelle,” Red said politely, “Nero just needs to have you let him know who is the boss. If he starts acting up, put more leg on him. It will remind him that you’re on board and you’re in charge. If that doesn’t work, put some pressure on the reins. As a matter of fact, here, get up, and I’ll show you what to do.”
Reluctantly, Estelle remounted the horse. Red gave her the reins and explained that if she squeezed her fingers on the reins, alternating hands, it would put just the smallest amount of pressure on the bit in the horse’s mouth. It wouldn’t be enough pressure for him to think it was a signal, but it would be enough to make him think he should pay attention.
“Watch his ears when you do that,” Red suggested. “You’ll see that he’s alert to
you
instead of doing his own thing.”
When Estelle was back in the group they all started trotting. Lisa decided to try what Red had suggested, although her own horse, Pepper, hadn’t been giving her any trouble. As soon as she squeezed the reins, moving them perhaps only a half an inch, Pepper seemed more alert to her, picked up his pace, and lifted his head sharply. It was a neat trick. Once she had his attention, she stopped doing it, but if he lagged, she could try it again.
Estelle, however, didn’t seem to be having the same kind of luck. For the rest of the class she was fighting with
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