human
What have you lost?
gpt
Nothing, I replied;
human
I am looking for the gate.
gpt
Then you are looking for something you won't find this side a mile and a half; that's the road--over the wall. Come! give us a lead.
human
One glance at Miss Trafford decided me; and I put my horse's head towards the wall and then my spurs into his sides. When I was within three feet my courage failed me, and I pulled up; but it was _too late_. Iron Duke had already risen; and in doing so had nearly rolled me off, first over the cantle and then the pommel. Ten thousand years rolled over my devoted head in these few moments, and then all was still--_i.e._, as regards motion; but my ears were assailed by a deafening cheer--mixed, I must candidly admit, with some laughter. When I
gpt
I discovered that I was still alive, and still in the saddle, and that my horse was, in the most matter-of-fact way possible, spanning the wall like a bridge, fore-legs on one side, hind-legs on the other. I hastily congratulated myself that things were no worse, and then began to consider what was the proper step to be taken by a man in my situation.
human
Pull him back!
gpt
Job him over!
human
Stick to him!
gpt
Get off! and similar advice came to me from every quarter. I resolved to act on the