CHASING AND RACING 133 



was a third runner, steered by Charlie Thompson^ 

 known to his familiars as ** Bonnety Bob,** but no 

 one took any heed of him. I have not the least idea 

 what became of him in the back stretch. I think 

 he strayed out on an ornithological or entomological 

 venture. 



Next morning I was " for it " again, because 

 forsooth, when " strolling home " on Weasel, and 

 reaching the line of coaches, my eye fell on an entranc- 

 ing little golden-haired fairy, of some five summers, 

 who was on the box seat of one of them, with her dad. 

 I suppose she had backed Weasel for a box of chocolates 

 with some fatuous admirer ; anyway she waved and 

 kissed her little hand to me as I came by, whereupon 

 I committed the awful solecism of returning the 

 greeting. The Press was very severe, " Buffoon ** 

 being the mildest term applied to my inopportune 

 gallantry. 



A -prof OS " Bonnety Bob,'* he was one of the 

 toughest propositions I ever came across. He would 

 ride anything, for any one, at any time. He seldom 

 won a flat race, but that did not trouble him in the 

 least. I remember entering one of my hunters in a 

 steeplechase at the Aylesbury Hunt Meeting just as a 

 fill-up. Cossack was its name, a fair performer in 

 the hunting field, but with no pretensions to negotiating 

 the stiff fences of the Aylesbury course. Besides, he 

 was not half trained. However, Charlie Thompson 

 begged me to give him a ride, and although I demurred 



