PEDIGREE OF PRINCE PALATINE 



though not before Watts had been badly scared. 

 About the mile post Persimmon hung, seeming to be 

 afraid to go up to his horses ; and here the jockey's 

 skill was manifested. Instead of pressing the colt, 

 which would probably have alarmed him, he patiently 

 sat quite still. Persimmon soon recovered, and then 

 went in pursuit of St. Frusquin. Watts had fully 

 assimilated the fact that Mr. Leopold de Rothschild's 

 colt was the one he had to beat— if he could. By 

 now it had come to a question of class, and the class 

 of St. Frusquin and Persimmon being superior to 

 that of Mr. Leonard Brassey's colt the inevitable 

 happened ; Bay Ronald fell back beaten. St. 

 Frusquin went on well clear of Persimmon and led 

 past the bell. But among the multitude who lined 

 the course were many possessors of sharp eyes, and 

 they perceived that Persimmon was going the faster 

 of the pair, that with his long and sweeping stride he 

 was gradually if very slowly reducing the gap, and 

 that there was yet time for him to get up. So a 

 murmur of delight began to rise from thousands of 

 throats ; and there was reason for it. Less than a 

 hundred yards from the winning post Persimmon had 

 drawn level. St. Frusquin gallantly strove to hold 

 his own. The race was not over yet, for a falter or 

 a swerve on the part of the bearer of the Royal 

 colours — and horses will falter under such tremendous 

 pressure — would still have been fatal. Here the 



B 17 



