The Life of a Great Sportsman 



I understand this to mean, that on the mornings of the days 

 mentioned, which were those of the Race meeting at Chester, 

 there was Cock-fighting between the leading breeders of 

 Cheshire and Lancashire, and that the interests of the specula- 

 tive race-goers were in this fashion maintained until the 

 afternoon's racing came on. 



There is a specially characteristic story told of the jovial 

 owner of Conqueror, which under similar circumstances could 

 readily be accredited to his fun-loving descendant who forms 

 the subject of this book. One wild dark night, in the winter 

 say of 1775, or thereabout, when the snow lay thickly on the 

 ground, and was still falling, a belated traveller riding along 

 the road from Caistor saw the cheerful lights gleaming in the 

 wide front of the old house at Limber, and riding up to the side 

 door, rapped loudly thereon with his whip, demanding a night's 

 lodging, and to see Mine Host. 



Mr. Richardson, who at the time was sitting in his study, 

 which adjoined the side door, heard this unexpected knock 

 and demand, and at once came rightly to the conclusion that 

 the stranger had mistaken his house for the inn for which he 

 was evidently seeking. Being the soul of hospitality, however, 

 and determined to rescue this unexpected guest, at any cost, 

 from the horrors of the night, he brushed aside the astonished 

 servant, and courteously invited the traveller to enter. 



One can readily imagine what a comfort the sight of Mr. 

 Richardson's smiling red face would carry to the cold-stricken 

 stranger, and how he would hug himself for joy at the thought 

 that not only had he found the inn he sought, but also one 

 of the jolliest and cheeriest landlords imaginable into the 

 bargain. 



One can also imagine, too, how Mr. Richardson, having let 

 the servants into the secret, with orders that it was to be 



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