DEALERS' TRICKS 129 



There is in existence a portrait of the horse painted when 

 he was fifty-six years of age. 



Before concluding this chapter I should like to retail 

 an American story which will show that even in America 

 you have to keep a watchful eye when buying a horse, 

 especially a pacer. 



Buying pacers is a disease. When the germ gets 

 under the skin there is no cure. A swish of speed with 

 a snap of the hopples will twist a roll out of an inside 

 pocket quicker than a ten-to-one shot with Danny 

 Lambeth in the field. 



The last sample was found in New Jersey. When 

 the autumn fairs were almost over, a little mare, with 

 a faded coat and a thin tail, appeared at a track near 

 Newark. For a few days she ate her hay and oats with- 

 out attracting the attention of anyone, except the man 

 who collected the stall rent. 



One crisp morning when a few of the rail-birds were 

 sunning themselves near the grand-stand, the little 

 mare appeared. After the usual jog she whizzed away 

 from the wire and flashed by the quarter-pole close to a 

 two-minute gait. After a breather and a few short 

 scores she stepped a half in 1-05. 



The watch-snappers buzzed like a swarm of bees. 

 In a few days all the Jersey horse-owners that were 



