My First Steeple-chaser. 95 



to the big fence, where the el)e.stnut fell^ and the screw cantered in 

 by himself. 



At three o'clock we left the village for the farmhouse, where we 

 meant to stay the night ; and as old Sam led our horse in triumph 

 out of the inn yard, he pithily obser\-ed to a group of stable-men 

 and grooms who had gathered round to see him start, " There, I 

 don't fancy you'll want us again at Findon for a twelvemonth." 

 Just as the old horse was leaving the yard, Tom walked up to his 

 head and pinned on each side of the head-stall a blue and white 

 rosette, which the old uncle mysteriously whispered to me had been 

 sent him in the morning by " that party." There was certainly 

 some value attached to these little cockades, for on going into 

 Tom's bachelor apartments a short time after the race, I observed 

 them pinned up over che bracket where his whips hung 5 and when- 

 ever afterwards he left home to ride the old horse in a race, they 

 accompanied him as surely as his whip and spurs, and generally 

 decorated the horse's head as he returned iiome a winner. 



After lunch the stakes for both the steeple-chase and the match 

 were handed over to my old friend, who generously left 10/. behind 

 him for the poor of the parish {" Reads well in the country paper, 

 don't you see r")^ and after deducting 25/. for the Vet., according 

 to promise, and 5/. for old Sam, he divided the rest into three parts, 

 for himself, Tom, and me. He had now gained the long coveted 

 prize — he had won "the Findon," and that with a screw, which he 

 flattered himself no one could have doctored but himself. Tom 

 had made a very good day's work j his share in the stakes, and 

 about 300/. in bets, came to enough^ as the old man observed, to 

 stock a little farm with. But " if you'll be a little more steady, 

 you may marry that girl yet, and do well," only met with a sad 

 shake of the head from Tom, as he tossed off a bumper of sherry 

 and left the room. As for myself, not a word of praise fell to my 

 share for having been the original purchaser of the horse — in fact, I 

 was a real sleeping partner, in every sense of the word, and had no 

 more to say in regard to the management of the old screw than 

 tlie coachman of whom I bought him. 



