9© My First Steeple-chaser, 



depend upon it," was the old man's remark to Tom as he locked 

 the stable-door for the last thne that night — a remark which even 

 elicited a grim smile from old Sam, who was stud groom on this 

 occasion. 



About eleven next morning the little cavalcade walked up the 

 village street, " the observed of all observers." The old horse in 

 neat blue and white body-clothing, with all the accompaniments, in 

 true sporting marching order, led by Sam 3 Tom (in full jockey 

 costume, his colours, however, hidden by a blue pilot cloth pea- 

 jacket, his silk cap stutfed into his hat), and the old uncle, following 

 on their ponies. I never remember seeing old Sam look so respect- 

 able or so pleasant as he did on this eventful morning. He never 

 once contradicted his old master, never interfered with orders, and 

 the only remark I heard him make to Tom as he gave him a lift-up 

 in the stable-yard of the inn was, '^ There, God bless you ! the old 

 man's told you what to do. I don't want to see you again till you 

 come back to weigh in 3" and Sam kept his word, for he never 

 moved from the public-house parlour, where he sat stoically 

 ruminating over his pipe, till an ostler breathlessly rushed in with, 

 *^Your horse has won !" And then, "I knew he would," was the 

 only comment he made, as he bustled out to lead the winner back 

 to scale. 



There was no denying it, that as Tom rode down to the starting- 

 meadow, he and old Dot-and-Go-One looked a very dangerous 

 couple, and the jockey of the favourite hurriedly whispered to hi? 

 owner, as they passed him, " I should not see a bit of fear if we 

 only had that fellow and his screw safe in the brook." However, 

 the last jockey's hand had been shaken, the last instructions had 

 been given, and thirteen horses, ridden by thirteen of the best 

 riders in our hunt, were all drawn up in a line, anxiously waiting 

 for the signal to start : 



" All good 'uns to look at, and good 'uns to go. 

 And if put at the pound-wall of Ballinasloc, 

 There was not one among them would ever turn — no.** 



