94 Among Men and Horses. 



they can tell from whence comes the money, and if they find 

 that a genuine commission has issued from a dangerous 

 quarter, they will lower the odds below their proper value. 

 It is no good for me to know that in a field of twenty, a 

 certain horse has a three to one chance, when the fielders will 

 lay only three to two about him. No maxim is truer than 

 that betting on other people's horses is a fool's game. 



With the fear of being touted ever on them, the Newmarket 

 trainers are, and quite rightly, shy of strangers ; but placed at 

 rest on that point, they are, like most lovers of horses, hospit- 

 able, kind-hearted, and sporting. While we lived a little off 

 the station end of High Street, we saw a great deal of Mr 

 Townsend, the horse painter. I believe he was the only man 

 in the whole place who cared nothing for racing and, if 

 possible, still less for betting. A pretty bit of colour on field 

 or foliage, or a graceful attitude assumed by a colt or filly, 

 would have been prized by him more than the ( straightest 

 tip ' which Mat Dawson or poor Fred. Archer could have 

 given him. Nature was the book he loved and studied. He 

 liked above all things to paint mares and foals amid green 

 fields and leafy hedgerows. As regards colour, he was 

 seldom at fault ; for he put down on canvas only the tints he 

 saw in front of him. He was not very careful about the 

 actual drawing, as long as the ' feeling ' was all right. As 

 regards that, we had many a friendly dispute. Primed with 

 facts proved by my constant companion, the six-foot tape 

 measure, I criticised his faults of proportion with the self- 

 sufficient brutality of a recent convert ; while he retorted that 

 I was mechanical in my ideas and had no soul for art. The 

 influence of truth was so strong on him, that the moment he 

 saw there was anything wrong in a painting of his, he took it 

 out and began the work over again. I never knew anyone 

 more devoted to art for its own sake, and consequently, 

 he had not, respecting it, a trace of rivalry with, or 

 jealousy of, his brother ' brushes.' I remember one day, he 

 rushed into our house in a great state of excitement, seized 



