At the critical moment, however, a couple of officious policemen
pushed me aside and did it themselves.
There was nothing for me to regret, as the matter turned out. I
should only have rescued a bald-headed commercial traveller, very
drunk, who swore horribly, and pelted the crowd with empty
collar-boxes.
From the window of a very high flat I once watched three men,
resolved to stop a runaway horse. Each man marched deliberately
into the middle of the road and took up his stand. My window was
too far away for me to see their faces, but their attitude suggested
heroism unto death. The first man, as the horse came charging
towards him, faced it with his arms spread out. He never flinched
until the horse was within about twenty yards of him. Then, as the
animal was evidently determined to continue its wild career, there
was nothing left for him to do but to retire again to the kerb,
where he stood looking after it with evident sorrow, as though
saying to himself--"Oh, well, if you are going to be headstrong I
have done with you."
The second man, on the catastrophe being thus left clear for him,
without a moment's hesitation, walked up a bye street and
disappeared. The third man stood his ground, and, as the horse
passed him, yelled at it.
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