The Heather and the Pine

August 10th, 185~

Confusion and disarray!

The young master decided to ride out on a pony borrowed from our host, the Major's fellow Army officer. The young master took Jack for company and I fancy they thought they would have a high time cantering through the expanses of heather and along the burbling, clear waters of the river in the pine woods. I have always thought that the young master fancies himself a better horseman than he is. I should never be so impudent to say it, but as a farm girl who could handle a horse from earliest memory, I understand the beasts and I can tell an unpromising rider when I meet one. The young master has promise, in fairness, but is impatient with himself and haughty towards the animals. I long to tell him they do not like haughtiness, and they will eagerly exploit any lack of character.

Heaven knows how it came about – I suspect the young master's attitude to the pony will have played its part – but on turning for home, the pony threw him. Headlong down a bank, into a small stream, it seems! Jack was obliged to leave him and race back here for the Major and Mr O (Jack is a good horseman, thanks be) and between the three of them they were able to retrieve the poor boy. The indignity of being slung over the back of his father's horse will only add insult to the boy's bodily injuries.

We hope he will recover sufficiently to join the Major and our host and the other men of the party in the start of the Season, two days hence. It seems, with a few hours of rest, that the extent of it may be a twisted ankle and a deal of being knocked about and winded, but otherwise nothing of concern. A good thing is that it has certainly dented his pride, of which I firmly believe he has too much! Mrs H and I have prepared a poultice for his leg and a good thick soup for his body and soul, and we expect to see him returned to himself on the morrow.