AND TIMES OF JOHN OSBORNE 469 



Here one may apply with good effect the axiom, " Ne 

 sutor ultra crepidam" On the first blush the worthy 

 blacksmith's advice appears sound. He knew all about 

 shoeing his horses, no doubt, but he never was in the 

 active conflict of a race where a jockey must exercise 

 eyes, hands, head, and judgment every moment like the 

 commander of a force in battle. Any " chalk " jockey 

 can "mak use on 'im," as the worthy Jacob enjoined. 

 But with what result? He starts his horse out of his 

 stride, flogs him along at top pressure, digs in his spurs, 

 and has him " sobbing " at the distance, without energy 

 or wind left in him for a supreme effort. This is the 

 sort of jockey that does not know the winning post. 

 He will soon disappear from the stage of public life to 

 the more congenial atmosphere of the stable yard, 

 whence he sprung. The riding of a race is a work of 

 art, demanding the proper and well-distributed faculties 

 of mind and body. And if we look at the past, or 

 weigh up the present form of horsemen of the front 

 rank, the same lesson is taught of patience, judgment, 

 strength, and skill winning in the long run. Of these 

 attributes John Osborne, like his congeners of old, the 

 Buckles, the Chifneys, Bill Scott, Jim Robinson, Harry 

 Edwards, J. B. Day, Job Marson, Frank Butler, George 

 Fordham, Custance, Fred Archer, F. Webb, Tom 

 Cannon, and others, was largely possessed; and 

 above all, he was an honest man. In testimony whereof 

 he was the recipient in his fifty-ninth year of a testi- 

 monial of the value of 3600 guineas. " Why give him 

 money," asks your cynic, "when he had a long and 

 prosperous career ? " Why ? Because he was a 

 comparatively poor man, and an honest man. If he 

 had been a dishonest man, the great probability is he 

 would have been rich, as this world goes. Nor must it 



