SIXTY YEARS ON THE TURF 



look at the house. Will you come and have a 

 bit of lunch with us here ? " 



" Certainly." 



The hour's shooting was a trial, and when the 

 business was ended we returned to the " Grey- 

 hound" anticipating the Doctor. We were stand- 

 ing outside the house, and soon saw him walking 

 briskly up. He carried a very heavy ashplant, with 

 a top on it about the size of a decent cauliflower. 

 Just before he reached us he raised his stick, and 

 shaking it at Custance and Fordham called out : 



" Oh, Mr. ' Simpson ' and Mr. ' Wilson,' I've 

 found you out ! I know now who you are ! But I 

 haven't altered my opinion. Neither of you can 

 ride ! " The only answer was a hearty laugh. 



This was a humorous occasion. But I recall 

 another, in connection with Fordham, that was very 

 grave. It was on Derby Day of 1863 — the year of 

 Macaroni. No sterner struggle than that between 

 he and Lord Clifden for supremacy in the chief 

 stake of England had been seen on Epsom Downs 

 from the time they were consecrated to the horse ; 

 and only in the last stride did Tom Chaloner — ever 

 one of the doughtiest opponents of Fordham — squeeze 

 Mr. Naylor's colt home. The verdict was a head ; 

 and I should say one of the shortest on record. 

 Fordham was naturally upset by so narrow a defeat, 



168 



