54 THE LIFE OF A RACEHORSE. 



bearing a close resemblance to tlie badger-pied, was jerked over 

 tlie duck's tail, and he fortliwitli announced to me and the large 

 black spider, who tenanted a dusty web sprinkled with hay 

 seeds in a lofty corner of my box, that he was " fit as a fiddle.'* 



" Bobby Topsawyer," said he, irreverently referring to onr 

 head groom in his temporary absence, " shan't say I am troubled 

 with the slows when I'm just about bein' turned over from his 

 'ands into our trainer's. How I'll take the shine out o' their 

 blacking at ISTewmarket !" continued he, making an extraordi- 

 nary imitation of Mr. Top's mannerism when speaking of his 

 late honoured parent or his own peculiar accomplishments. 

 " When it comes to trottin'-out the donkey," said Harry, with 

 his eyes fixed on the ceiling immediately above his head, liis 

 arms crossed upon his bosom, and his short bandy legs stretched 

 asunder, "what a stepper mine '11 be !" 



Years, long years, have come and gone since then ; but in the 

 mirror of the past, Harry Dale, I can see you as you stood on 

 that memorable mornijig of my chequered life, with no one and 

 no thing but me and the spider as witnesses of your bearing. 

 Instead of the pale and bloodless cheek which now, as a man of 

 care, although of wealth, salutes your glass, your face was ruddy 

 with health, Harry Dale, and in your clear blue eyes a love of 

 mischief lurked, which, had it been confined to the tricks of 

 boyhood, might have rendered the difficulties of a certain 

 account to be settled far less onerous. Humble as was your 

 attire, nothing could be neater than the drab cloth gaiter, with 

 its row of mother-of-pearl buttons, encompassing your little 

 viirj leg, and the white linen jacket extending to your knees — 

 and leaving, from its length, the impression that the design, origi- 

 nally, was for one whose stature was at least double your own — 

 might have been exhibited as a pattern for the most vainglorious 

 of stable-boys. The eminently successful attempt to copy the 

 attire of Mr. Toj^ was most striking, perhaps, in the hastily 

 adjusted cravat; for the roll of bleached cambric encircling 

 Hariy's throat, even to the horse-shoe pin just beneath the 

 square knot, looked its genuine prototype in fold and crease. 



