14 ASHGILL; OR, THE LIFE 



to immortalise herself as the dam of Ormonde, were 

 now unoccupied by a racer of any note. Comparative 

 decay marked the old place. Its old master's remains 

 had now mixed with the churchyard mould of Coverham 

 for upwards of a third of a century. Fred Bates, a 

 w^hilom Middleham featherweight, afterwards a trainer 

 for Sir Robert Jardine, was now " master " of 

 Tupgill, with an attenuated string of horses under his 

 care. How changed from the days of old Tom Dawson, 

 when Tupgill could boast a Pretender and other 

 celebrities of the Turf, attesting to the dead 

 master's skill! Thorngill, in the occupation of Tom 

 Connor, had only a few " platers " in its keeping. 

 Harry Hall is a dying man at Spigot Lodge in these 

 closing days of December, 1896; he expired on the 

 28th of that month in that year. The old man yet 

 glibly talked of his prospects for the ensuing spring 

 campaign, prospects never, alas ! to be realised. 



But while it is a case of " Ichabod " in regard to 

 Spigot Lodge, Tupgill, and Thorngill, it must be con- 

 fessed, as showing what a grand stayer " Master John " 

 is, that his place at Brecongill was full of horses — fuller, 

 indeed, than it had been for several seasons past. Of 

 its master one may exclaim — 



"Men may come, and men may go, 

 But he trains on for ever." 



At length the wayfarer from Coverham hits the 

 line of " The Wizard," and finds himself at the trellised 

 porchway of Brecongill. A hearty welcome from the 

 dapper John Osborne himseK, attired in the familiar 

 drab knee-breeches, and an introduction to his channins: 

 wife and to those members of the family who had not 

 as yet quitted the parental roof to fight their way in 



