CHAPTER XXIII 



A'ONG the elder school of jockeys I had 

 good friends in Tom Cannon, senior, 

 George Fordham, and Johnny Osborne. 

 The last named once did me a very kindly 

 service. I was riding in a " mixed " race at Liverpool 

 over the cup course. It is a very short run from the 

 starting-post to the first turn, and there is always a 

 scramble to get well placed thereat. On this occasion 

 I was jammed on the rails, and in imminent peril of 

 going over them, horse and all, when Johnny Osborne 

 pulled out, crying, " Slip up here, sir, quick, or you'll 

 be on the floor ! " Of course I acted on the invitation 

 with alacrity, and so avoided what might have been a 

 very ugly accident. 



Tom Cannon essayed to do me a bit of good, but 

 in quite a different connection. I was walking in the 

 paddock at Sandown, deep in the study of " Form at a 

 Glance," when suddenly " the Backer's Bible " was 

 sent flying out of my hands. I turned round in wrath- 

 ful astonishment and found myself facing Tom. 



" What's up ? " I exclaimed, as I stooped to recover 

 the volume. " Let it be, squire," said Tom; " if you 



follow that you'll be broke to the world before you're 



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