gler and the regiment started. Troop A first, and then each successive troop swinging into line and following on just as though the whole had been not a disjointed mass of separate aggregations, but just one machine, as indeed it was.
It was splendid. It was superb, and the watching recruits swung their caps and shouted.
When Halsey had ridden away from Eaton Manor on that summer morning he had never imagined that he would have to be told how to put a blanket on a horse, or how to bridle and saddle a horse. He had thought that the life of a cavalryman would be like the pictures he had seen,—men in bright uniforms riding prancing horses to the sound of martial music. But of the endless detail of training he had not even dreamed.
Of course he knew a great deal about horses, much more in fact than the corporal who each morning ordered him about. But many of the men did not know, so the training had to be for all. It was right that the