The opening of the horse-market is not announced to ladies by cards of invitation, though such an innovation on the old-fashioned methods might prove a great success in the hands of a skilful dealer. Nevertheless, as soon as spring opens, all over the United States, ladies are "shopping" for horses, but by no means in their usual jaunty and self-confident way, for their eyes, which do them such good service at the silk or lace counter, take on a timid and hesitating expression in the presence of this unwonted problem. The acquisition of a saddle-horse by a young girl is usually a long and complicated operation, in the course of which her hopes are alternately raised and depressed day by day, to be at last very likely disappointed altogether. It often begins at breakfast-time, somewhat in the following fashion: "Dear papa, don't you think I might have a saddle-horse this season? Eleanor B----'s uncle has given her a beauty, and we could ride together; and you know that is just the sort of exercise the doctor said would be good for me." The father hesitates, and few fathers there are who do not in their hearts long to grant the request; but he is a very busy man, and does not feel as if he could take any more cares upon his shoulders; and very likely he knows little about horses, and really has not the slightest idea how to set about such a purchase; and his mind misgives him as he remembers what he has heard of the tricks of dealers. So he says, "Oh, my dear, I don't see how we can manage it. We should be cheated, to begin with, and pay twice as much as he is worth, and he would run away and throw you off; and then he would be always sick, and finally fall lame, and would have to be given away before the season is over." This is the critical point of this part of the little family transaction, and if the daughter has nothing more convincing to offer in reply than some vague statement that she is sure she sees plenty of good horses in the street, and that she does not see why her horse should be sick any more than any one else's, and that there must be plenty of good men to take care of him to be had at low wages, then probably her case is lost. But suppose that she replies: "Oh yes, papa, I _know_ a horse that will do _nicely_ and can't be sickly for he has worked all summer and not lost _a day_ and he is eight years old and so has eaten all his wild oats by this time and he isn't a very pretty color but then we can buy him cheaper for that reason and I don't care so much for color as I do for _shape_ and he is _very_ well formed indeed his legs and feet are excellent and he has a broad shoulder and a pretty neck and head and we gave him a long drive the other day and he never missed _a step_ and he isn't afraid of anything and I drove him fast up a steep hill and jumped out at the top to give him a bunch of clover and took the opportunity to listen to his breathing and to feel his pulse and there is nothing the matter with _his_ heart or wind I assure you and I will promise to go to the stable once a day to see him." Then the chances are that, after laughing at the long sentence without a stop, and telling her she is a runaway filly herself, papa will say, "Well, suppose we take a look at this wonderful animal; we are not obliged to buy him, you know, unless we please, and I don't say what I may decide finally," and her case is won. To be able, however, to make the reply above supposed, simple as it sounds, indicates a very unusual amount of observation for a young girl.