CHAPTEK XXIII. 



JEALOUSY OF TRAINERS AFTER THE SWEAT RULES TO BE OB- 

 SERVED DIRECTIONS HOW TO PROCEED WITH THE HORSES. 



PRECEPTOR. You look a little wearied this morning. I 

 hope the pedigrees did not keep you from sleeping; I 

 thought you got pretty well rid of them, and had left none 

 to be a burden to you. 



PUPIL. Nevertheless they did worry me. When I went 

 to bed thinking of the conversation we held, it appeared 

 as though better illustrations came to my mind than any 

 I had offered; and when I fell asleep, the subject that 

 engrossed my waking hours got a still firmer hold of my 

 mind, now untrammeled by the corporeal frame. Pedigrees 

 of men and horses were mixed up in tangled confusion, and 

 centaurs performed around me in mazy elvolutions, bewil- 

 dering me with their strange actions, and still stranger 

 speeches. One heavy-made, lumbering, Dutch-looking 

 horse, with a keen human head, every line of which be- 

 tokened cunning, reproached me for leaving him out, and, 

 pointing triumphantly to an advertisement in the old 

 Spirit, screeched in my ear, "You called us splattering 

 Morgans : look at that and you will find that we are the 

 true descendants of the children of fire, purer far than 

 those graceful, sleek-coated, fragile-looking things, you have 

 held up for admiration. They cannot make half the dis- 

 play I can;" and he frisked around with short dancing 

 steps, the curly mane flying, and the fat shaking on his 

 sides. The words he pointed to in the paper shone like 



