WITH HORSE AND HOUND 



i-eckoned, however, without their host, as the two steeds kept 

 in exactly the same position till the Red House was passed. 

 Into the straight running Russborough came with the same 

 strong lead, Robinson glancing over his shoulder at Marson, 

 who sat with his hands well down on his horse's withers, and as 

 cool as an iceberg. The vast crowd closed in upon them, and 

 the roar of a hundred thousand iron voices fairly rent the air. 

 "Voltigeur's beat!" and "Is 'er beat?" was Bob Hill's 

 response ; " You maun't tell me that ; I knaws 'im better — 

 Job 's a coming ! " And sure enough. Job, half way within 

 the distance, slipped a finger off his rein, gave the Derby winner 

 a sharp reminder with his spurs, had him at Russborough's 

 girths in the next three strides, and landed him home a clever 

 winner by a length. The hurrahs that greeted horse and 

 jockey as they returned to the Stand were perfectly deafening, 

 and became, if possible, louder when the Countess of Zetland 

 descended with her husband and patted the conqueror's neck. 

 Spotted handkerchiefs, symbolising Lord Zetland's colours, 

 were waving everywhere, hats were flung recklessly in the air, 

 and even the fielders cheered because one of the right sort had 

 won. This was Voltigeur's third race, all of which he has won, 

 and it is remarkable that Charles xii., the only other son of 

 Voltaire who ever gained the St. Leger, had to run two heats 

 for it.' 



They who speak with authority maintain that a south- 

 country crowd does not take the close interest in the horses 

 and the racing that is taken by the men of the north : an 

 Epsom crowd discusses anything but the racing : a Knavesmire 

 or Doncaster crowd has thought and word for nothing else. 

 But the south-country crowd is roused to an extraordinary 

 pitch of enthusiasm on occasion. 



One of the most memorable among Derbies was that of 

 1896 : those who saw — and heard — are never likely to forget it, 



' The mingled clamour on the Downs is dying away : the 

 course has been cleared : the inevitable dog, a mongrel Irish 

 terrier this time, has been hunted into private life among the 



n6 



