Pyg. Russell Potter

off for the accommodation of myself and Mr Bisset’s other Animal companions. The very next morning, we met with a Mr Sweet, who introduced himself as the chief Trainer at Astley’s, and spent some time looking over the Horses. They went through all their paces, but Mr Sweet seemed strangely Displeased by their performance, although he gave their Abilities his grudging Admiration. ‘They may do Tricks, sure, but these Horses aren’t properly Trained—we’ll have to keep them apart from the others in the Ring,’ he declared. From what I could gather, his idea of training had a good deal to do with the use of a Whip, and he considered Horses trained in any other Manner to be a great Hindrance to him as he could not rely upon their Obedience to his commands. He did not bother very much about the other Animals, but did take a good long look at Me, and I felt at once a sort of Chill in his regard. He would just as soon see me cut into Rashers as have me cut Capers on his Stage, I thought, but since there was said to be some Money in it, he snorted, turned, and strode alongside Mr Bisset into his rooms.