XIII 



Bad Luck 



" This way the chamois leapt : her nimble feet 

 Have baffled me ; my gains to-day will scarce 

 Repay my break-neck travail." 



Byron, 



ONE often hears it said that a writer on Sport 

 only speaks of successful days ; in fact, 

 never seems to fall into the same misfortunes 

 as ordinary folk, and by no chance ever misses ! 



Whilst admitting, to some extent, the truth of 

 these charges, it may be urged in extenuation that 

 success is always more pleasant to look back upon 

 than disappointment. 



We have all failures enough in any and every 



walk in life ; with some of us, life itself is a failure ! 



We do not care to speak of the failures, though. 



Rather let us hide them, bury them, forget them 



if we can ! Memory is a good friend to us in this. 



It is the pleasant remembrances that remain the 



freshest and last the longest the disagreeable ones 



that are the soonest blurred over by the lapse of time. 



It is not my intention to skip the bad days, how- 



203 



