Word: steeds
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...that horse shot into space! I felt the sulky lengthening out under me. The pressure of the air was such that my ears, which nature erected at perfectly true right-angles with my head, lay back upon it as flat as if naturally coalescent. I shrieked at the flying steed that perhaps he had better save himself a little. Vain, futile words! they never reached his ears till he went round the track and met them on the other side. He heeded not, nor heard; he merely went, he simply hummed, and I hung on to the dash-board with...
...trot him on time, too! Oh, I'd soon have him down to two-eight! I waited a moment to give an opportunity to any pieces I might have left behind to overtake us, and then drove townward with a smile of triumph on my face. I stabled the steed, and sallied forth to give voice to the matter...
...sure I needed no assistance. I dismissed my attendant. Proud, happy moment! I rode all alone. But a sense of the awful responsibility of the situation began to creep over me. A queer, unnerving sensation of uncertainty as to where I'd be next stole over me. My trusty steed showed violent symptoms of St. Vitus's Dance. The floor began to heave and billow about. The pillars and railing played at kaleidoscope. My vision grew dim. I clutched the handles till they grew thin under my grasp. I threw my whole soul into that one moment...
...steed is Cupid's charger...
SOME fate, unpropitious to the West End, seems to attend the placing of statues in Boston. Some one has already pointed out the bad taste displayed in putting Edward Everett in the Public Garden with his back to Beacon Street. George Washington has turned his steed from Beacon Hill, and is riding toward Natick. Even the Good Samaritan has "passed by on the other side"; and now the Genius of America on the top of the Monument has turned her back on that high-toned part of the city, and is facing that benighted region known as the South...