Sunday, August 09, 2009

06Jul1867, Flung in the Mud by a Riderless Horse

LONDON, July 6th, 1867.
Fred's holyday, so we went together to the Portrait Exhibition, and afterwards had a ride. I had so narrow an escape as to fill one with trembling, awestruck thankfulness. Coming home at a foot's pace, a riderless, runaway horse came full gallop against my poor horse's off side. Over we went a regular "culbute." I was flung clear off on the near side, flat on my back in the mud, and poor Ossa rolled completely over on to her back, but, somehow, mercifully she did not touch me, and I was up in a moment, quite unhurt. My poor Fred came up white and frightened ; his horse plunged and kicked so that he could not come near me for a minute, the runaway having nearly bumped him too. I was a perfect mud plaster, horrible to behold, my head and face, however, all right. What to be done with me would have been a question if dear Aunt Lou had not dropped from the clouds in her open carriage, and taken me home from the midst of an admiring circle. I am stiff and achy, but don't feel at all shaken. It is a serious thought to me, how close I cling to all my happiness. The thankfulness, when I thought of Freddy, rushed over me like a flood. God help me to love Him more !

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