once all the eight seemed to be collected in a breathless tangle about and above the ball, crowding, pushing, struggling for the chance at a stroke; and in such cases the ponies seemed to divide the excitement with their masters, and fenced and curved and described indescribably short circles, regardless of the danger of getting a hard rap from the cruel mallets on their own poor little hoofs. Then, when some lucky hit sent the ball spinning across the ground, it was quite beautiful to see the alacrity with which the little creatures, of their own accord, as it were, rushed, after it, obeying the slightest indication from rein or spur, and apparently measuring the distance and the opportunities as accurately as their riders. The beat of their small hoofs on the smooth ground was so swift and even that it was more like a rustle than a rush. To and fro flew the ball, now almost at the blue wicket, then reached and sent back in the very nick of time by one of the red champions. Candace was so fascinated that she had no eyes for any one else till, turning
