SIXTY YEARS ON THE TURF 



the Wild Agnes stable, won a huge stake by the 

 success of the filly. He invited me to accept a 

 slight shade of odds against Victorious to a very big 

 sum. But I said, " No. You're going heavy for 

 Wild Agnes. That tells me she is all right. And 

 my horse is not the horse he was. I shan't bet." 

 I cannot say I was ever very partial to Jackson, 

 who was saturated with self. If he could get 

 something for nothing he was always to the fore. 

 It was the custom of myself and friends to have 

 our carriages at Newmarket well laden with food 

 and wines, while each day there was a two-gallon jar 

 of Mr. Jacobs's (he kept the "Wellington") ripping 

 old ale — the sort that would have caused a glow of 

 satisfaction to the lover of Lorna Doone, John 

 Ridd. Jackson was very partial to ale — especially 

 other people's, and he and two of his pals, in my 

 absence (for I was the biggest beer drinker of the 

 party), would help themselves so freely that often 

 the jar ran dry in the middle of the afternoon. As 

 the Americans say, I " grew tired," and one day at 

 Carshalton mentioned the matter to Dr. Shorthouse. 

 " I'll stop Mr. Jackson and his pals," he said. And 

 he gave me a little phial of stuff, the proper quan- 

 tity for two gallons — " to be well shaken before 

 taken." None of our party touched the ale that 

 day, and by the time Jackson and his friends had 



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