64 THE HORSE AND HIS RIDER 



with tape, if waist that could be called which, differed 

 in breadth nothing from his shoulders, and a queer- 

 looking blue-and-black chequered shirt for a jacket ; 

 a cap, with the peak turned behind, to match, and 

 huge ruffles at his wrist had his stirrup-leather so 

 short that, although he might contrive to preserve 

 his equilibrium, it was utterly impossible for him to 

 render any assistance to his horse. . . . They all got 

 away at the first wave of the hand of a gentleman in 

 black, with a portly stomach encircled with a tri- 

 coloured scarf. The Norman (who, by the way, had 

 a wet sponge applied to his knees before starting, by 

 way of improving his grip of the saddle) went off at 

 score ; indeed, had the heats been once round we 

 believe he must have won, for the five-year-old bay 

 seemed to have a will of his own, and there being 

 nothing but a plain snaffle in his mouth, he was left 

 to the free enjoyment of it. The rider for it would 

 be a profanation of the name to call him a jockey 

 did not get a pull at him for the first mile and a 

 quarter, and passed the stands at a slapping pace, 

 which, however, shortly began to tell upon his horse, 

 and he was compelled to resign the precedence to 

 the gray (Lord H. Seymour's Egle, ridden by Moss, 

 or Mous, as the programme hath it) and Mouna, and 

 take a place in the middle tier, where both rider and 

 horse laboured away manfully long after the heat 

 was decided. The gray won in a canter, Mouna was 

 second, then, after a long interval, up galloped the 



