GREEN; YELLOW SLEEVES, BELT, AND CAP 



race went to a good five-year-old named Glen Royal, 

 ridden by Mr. Fergusson. Glen Royal started favourite 

 in a field of twenty-two. 



Kempton Park was the scene in 1900, when only ten 

 ran. Mr Bibby was not represented. Again a five- 

 year-old was successful, Eoos by name, winning by a 

 neck from a four-year-old named Spiddal, belonging to 

 Mr. Reginald Mainwaring who for so many years 

 officiated as handicapper. There was an almost even 

 money favourite this year in Easter Ogue, a six-year-old 

 son of Ascetic, sire of so many successful steeplechasers 

 — and reputed sire of a great many others, or so it is 

 generally suspected. The story at least used to be that 

 if an owner in Ireland had a horse to sell he would 

 represent the animal to be the offspring of this son of 

 Hermit. I do not think that anyone except Reggie 

 Mainwaring had any idea that Spiddal would run so 

 well. My old friend, however, was one of those for- 

 tunate persons who gratify themselves with the notion 

 that everything they possess is superior to the posses- 

 sions of anybody else. This was not only the case with 

 his horses. I remember strolling about his Newmarket 

 garden one day when he explained to me that no one 

 else had ever been able to grow such glorious sweet peas, 

 and that the blackbird who was hopping about beneath 

 them was the sort of bird no one would ever see else- 

 where. When Spiddal came so near to success his 

 owner's crowing seemed not without justification. 



142 



