152 ashgill; or, the life 



CHAPTER X 



*' Where is the race of yore 

 That danced its infancy on our knee 1 " 



Midway through the " sixties " it was only too apparent 

 to the friends of John Osborne, the elder, that the 

 tenure of his days was not far distant. The once burly 

 frame and yigorous constitution were being undermined 

 by a cruel and insidious disease. Practically since '62 

 the onus of training the numerous stud had fallen upon 

 his son William, with Robert acting as a sort of 

 commercial super^dsor, and John, now in the heyday 

 of liis popularity and eyen greatness as a jockey, adding 

 lustre to the triumyirate of brothers. Speaking of the 

 season of 1864, John relates — 



" We had W^ild Agnes that season as a two- 

 year-old in '64. A fine slapping filly she was, 

 too, only beaten once during her two-year-old 

 season — in the ' Conyiyial ' at York by Olmar — 

 but she reversed the running the following week 

 at Stockton. Afterwards she won at Stockton, 

 Eghnton, and Doncaster, beating Victorious at 

 the last-named place. She won some races for 

 Mr. Padwick, who sold hex to the Duke of 

 Hamilton; she won for him also. The Duke 

 bred from her some foals in France; but 



