My First Steeple-chaser, 89 



rr two more were expected in the morning, the probable starters 

 were calculated at thirteen or fourteen. Every farmhouse was 

 filled on this evening, and even the parsonage had its mild coterie 

 of hard-ridinor black coats, each of whom had some interest, althou2:h 

 he did not care to show it, in watching how young So-and-so (a 

 farmer's son, probably from his own parish) would perform on this 

 memorable occasion. The Rutland Arms was full of grooms, horse- 

 dealers, and hard-riding outsiders, who had not exactly the entry 

 of the better houses, and here the fun was fast and furious 3 while 

 ■each jovial farmer and comely farmer's wife and daughter did the 

 honours of the table to a company as jovial and as truly British as 

 themselves. Not much talk about agricultural distress on this 

 ■evening ! The prices of wheat or oats were never once quoted j 

 and if £ s. d. were ever touched upon, it was merely to inquire 

 the price of such and such a horse for the next day's race. The 

 little village was in a perfect blaze — lights streamed from every 

 window and open door, the stable lanterns flitted across the dilferent 

 yards like meteors, as anxious grooms or owners visited their 

 favourites, to see if all was comfortable for the night j while every 

 now and then the stentorian chorus of some orood old huntinor sons: 

 would break upon the ear, disturbing the stillness of the usually 

 quiet street. Oh, these happy reunions of jovial manly spirits ! the 

 remembrance of which no distance of time can ever obliterate ! 

 By midnight, however, every light was extinguished, every voice 

 hushed. Young jockeys were restlessly tossing in their beds, won- 

 dering what luck the morrow had in store for them 5 while the 

 older ones were riding the race over mentally, and weighino- 

 their own chances against those of other good rivals whom they 

 were so soon to meet. A loose box had been engaged for our 

 horse at the Rutland Arms 3 but night closed in. and, to the sur- 

 prise of many, he had not made his appearance. Not that I was a 

 bit surprised, for there was something mysterious about all that my 

 old friend did, and I, moreover, well knew that the horse was 

 standing comfortably bedded up at a farmhouse about four miles 

 distant. "They'll see us quite early enough in the morning. 



