"Ride, your Honor! N--no! Dame Bedard shall call me plaisant Robin
if she ever tempts me again to mount her livery horse--'if fools
only carried cruppers!' as Panurge says."
"Why, Master Pothier?" Philibert began to be amused at his odd
guide.
"Why? Then I should be able to walk to-morrow--that is all! This
nag will finish me. Hunc! hanc! hoc! He is fit to be Satan's tutor
at the seminary! Hoc! hanc! hunc! I have not declined my pronouns
since I left my accidence at the High School of Tours--not till to-
day. Hunc! hanc! hoc! I shall be jolted to jelly! Hunc! hanc!
hoc!"
Philibert laughed at the classical reminiscences of his guide; but,
fearing that Pothier might fall off his horse, which he straddled
like a hay-fork, he stopped to allow the worthy notary to recover
his breath and temper.
"I hope the world appreciates your learning and talent, and that it
uses you more gently than that horse of yours," remarked he.
"Oh, your Honor! it is kind of you to rein up by the way. I find no
fault with the world if it find none with me.
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