Mr. H. Crawshaw 



long wooden boxes. We will now let Mr. Crawshaw tell the 

 story in his own words. " My mount, Verd Luron, being 

 awkward at the post, I asked Aston Blount, the starter, not to 

 leave me, which he promised not to do. * Tell me when you 

 are ready,' said he, ' and I'll drop the flag.' Accordingly, at 

 what looked like a favourable moment, I shouted, ' Ready ! ' 

 I was a bit too premature, however, it seemed, for the moment 

 the flag dropped my mount whipped round in the wrong 

 direction. However, on hearing the others clattering away in 

 the distance, he apparently repented, for, jumping round again, 

 he was after them before you could say 'knife.' Getting near 

 the stand, I was glad to see that every hurdle had been 

 knocked down ; and as the same thing happened with the next 

 lot, we were soon on terms with the rest, when I steadied my 

 horse a bit, with the result that we won cleverly in the end. 

 A great piece of luck, as the owner had indulged in a gamble 

 of some extent." 



" By far the cleverest man I ever saw with jumpers," writes 

 Mr. Crawshaw, "was Baron Finot, who in those days was 

 almost invincible. The first time I ever went to his place in 

 the country, he met me himself at the station with a four- 

 wheeled dog-cart. The road to his house, some four miles off, 

 was very sandy, and after going a short distance, off he went 

 full gallop. On my remarking that the horses seemed to be 

 able to go a bit, he replied, * Yes ; the one on the near side is 

 Valentino, and the chestnut mare, Astrolable.' The latter after- 

 wards started favourite for the Grand National, and was 

 certainly one of the best steeplechasers of her day. Baron 

 Finot maintained that driving horses in a very light carriage, 

 with roads not too hard, allowed them to get liberty of galloping 

 and kept the weight off their backs. 



"Spa" (goes on Mr. Crawshaw) "was In those days a 



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