Over the Banks at Punchestown 



try to gallop over it carelessly, drop hind legs and jink 

 their backs. 



The next fence is a brook. There's a good birch 

 hedge in front, so you may go full steam ahead. We 

 jump a similar fence further along this stream after we 

 clear that single bank out in front of us. Now we're 

 finished with the brooks, though I was afraid we'd get 

 a ducking at the last one. We swing sharply to the 

 right here and turn for home. Take your time, man 

 alive ! and get your grey going on the right leg or you'll 

 come a cropper at this single bank. Hang it, man, 

 steady him or you'll fumble it ! Holy smokes ! That 

 was a near thing. 



Now, young-fellow-me-lad, if you know any prayers, 

 say them, we're coming to the Big Double. That's it 

 in front, rather like a mountain that lost its way. There 

 are miniature Grand Canyons fore and aft, so you can't 

 afford any careless footwork. Its most redeeming 

 feature is that it is wide and well-cambered on top and 

 gives a horse plenty of time to change his feet. It has 

 respect for only one man, the fellow who tells it to go 

 to blazes. So sit down in your saddle, clench your 

 teeth to keep your heart from jumping out of your 

 mouth, and ride as though all the blue devils in hell 

 were after you ! 



Three lengths, two, one, prop a moment . . . Hup ! 

 Hook on it ... Hup ! Change feet . . . Hup ! Spring 

 clear . . . Cheers ! Magnificent footwork. There is 

 something tremendously satisfying about a double bank. 

 Its successful negotiation smacks of really gratifying 

 achievement. 



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