Of a Breakfast, A Roman Parent, and a Kiss

And presently, from a certain casement in the gable of the "White
Hart," his curls still wet with his ablutions, Barnabas thrust his
touzled head to cast an anxious glance first up at the cloudless
blue of the sky, then down at the tender green of the world about,
and to breathe in the sweet, cool freshness of the morning. But
longest and very wistfully he gazed to where, marked out by small
flags, was a track that led over field, and meadow, and winding
stream, over brown earth newly turned by the plough, over hedge, and
ditch, and fence, away to the hazy distance. And, as he looked, his
eye brightened, his fingers clenched themselves and he frowned, yet
smiled thereafter, and unfolding a letter he held, read as follows: OUR DEAR LAD,--Yours received, and we are rejoyced to know you so
successful so far. Yet be not over confident, says your father, and
bids me remind you as a sow's ear ain't a silk purse, Barnabas, nor
ever can be. Your description of horse reads well, though brief. But
as to the Rayce, Barnabas, though you be a rider born, yet having
ridden a many rayces in my day, I now offer you, my dear lad, a word
of advice. In a rayce a man must think as quick as he sees, and act
as quick as he thinks, and must have a nice judgment of payce. Now
here comes my word of advice.

1. Remember that many riders beat themselves by over-eagerness.
Well--let 'em, Barnabas.