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four girls and one boy. They looked about eight, except for the boy, who looked about six. Their ponies were all tried and true – way older than their riders. The other trainers were standing here and there, shouting commands: ‘Lift your eyes, Rachel! Look where you’re going!’ ‘Ginny, heels down! Good girl.’ ‘Robert, shorten your reins!’ The announcer called the class.
    Ellen came over to me and took a deep breath, which made her nostrils flare, and tossed her head, which made her plaits bounce. She said, ‘I’m ready.’
    She was. She walked into the ring ahead of all the others and turned right, walking along the rail, urging Gallant Man. He went at such a brisk pace, I thought he might trot, but he didn’t. Her reins were short, but then she noticed and loosened them. I whispered, ‘Good girl.’ The kids were told to trot.
    I won’t say that all the ponies wandered around the ring the whole time, but it was pretty chaotic, and twice ponies came close to the back of the black pony with two white hind feet, who pinned his ears and looked like he might kick. But Ellen and Gallant Man stayed out of trouble, stopped when told to, trotted when told to, turned when told to, and trotted out when told to. Ellen wasn’t bad at steering, either. It was clear that she and one other girl, Ginny, who was on a bay pony mare, were the best, but the judge let them go around for a while, I suppose to get practice. Finally, he called them into the centre and gave Ginny the blue ribbon and Ellen the red ribbon. Ellen came out of the ring in a huff but her mother appeared right there and said, ‘Oh, darling, how wonderful! You were so good! I am proud of you!’ She had some sugar cubes, which she handed to Ellen, and with all of that, Ellen relaxed, gave the pony the sugar, and didn’t have a tantrum.
    The practice ring was now set with three cavalletti poles. These are poles that have X’s nailed to each end, and they can be jumps of different heights depending on how you turn the X’s. When the pole is turned downwards, the jump is about six inches. When the pole is on its side, the jump is about nine inches, and when it’s turned upwards, about twelve inches. Ellen was secretly jumping about eighteen inches in our lessons, and Gallant Man could easily do three feet, so we only practised a couple of times in the warm-up, and then went first into the ring. The point was steering. Ellen was good at steering, since she knew always to look ahead. I didn’t think I had ever seen her look down.
    She did what I had told her – made a little circle, then trotted around the course. The course was two cavalletti, then a left turn away from the rail and back over the same two, then around the end of the ring and down over two that were set diagonally through the centre, then around to the right and down over the last two, halting at the end, turning, and trotting over the last one going the other way, and then making another small circle. Her first loop was a little big, and she veered a little to the right on the last jump, but I was pleased with her.
    Ginny did well, too, with just one mistake – breaking to the walk before the third jump, but only for a stride. The other kids were chaos. Robert’s trainer finally had to go in, after he had come to a halt facing the judge’s stand, and lead him over the last four cavalletti. Robert was crying. Ellen stood beside Gallant Man and stared at every one of the other children. I would have said she was casting a spell on them, if I believed in spells.
    As soon as the announcer said, ‘And a tie for first place goes to Ellen Leinsdorf and Virginia Cartwright, on –’ Ellen was away from me, leading Gallant Man and running into the ring. Gallant Man trotted after her, his ears flicking. I said, ‘Hey!’ but they were gone. Ellen was shouting, ‘What about the jump-off? There should be a jump-off!’ The announcer stopped speaking. In the silence, Ellen sounded even