324 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 



articles of the match were signed, and . already in the 

 hands of the steward ; and in ten minutes more, the 

 following conversation took place between the owner of 

 Nameless and his trainer : 



" Well, sir," said Mr, Lilly, " I find yon have made 

 your match, and I wish we may pull through. I find 

 you will not have the three pounds. I think, sir, you 

 should have taken it. Never throw away a chance in 

 racing. Three pounds at such high weight, to be sure, is 

 not much to get, but it is something. They are betting 

 six to four against us in the town, and I daresay it will 

 be seven." 



" So much the better," replied Raby, " as I may be able 

 to hedge some of my money, if I alter my opinion of the 

 event by to-morrow not that I think it likely I shall do 

 so. But what is it, Lilly, that you consider your duty to 

 tell me, respecting the match ? " 



" Why, sir," replied Lilly, " if I understand you right, 

 you are going to perform almost the most difficult act a 

 jockey is called upon to perform. Nothing, next to the 

 struggle of the few last yards between two horses very 

 nearly equal which we call the set-to is so difficult in 

 racing horsemanship as making running by a jockey, 

 solely for the benefit of the horse he himself is riding. 

 In other words, it requires the experience of some years 

 in a jockey to be a good judge of pace, that is, of not 

 merely the pace he himself is going, but how that pace 

 affects other horses in the race. And this task is more 

 difficult with some horses than with others, and especially 

 though this will not be your case with idle or lurching 

 horses, which, when leading, require nrging by the hand 

 or the leg every yard they go. In this case, the jockey 

 works hard to keep his horse going. He has to use his 

 hands, arms, legs, and feet, and occasionally to turn his 

 head round, with all his limbs in action at one and the 

 same moment, and yet not disturb his horse's action ; and 

 all this in addition to great anxiety of mind lest he should 

 upset his horse, and so lose the race. I have heard Frank 

 Buckle say, at Newmarket, that he never knows what it 

 is to be miserable except when he has to make running 

 over the Beacon course, with Sam Chifney and William 

 Clift behind him." 



We will now bring our hero to the post, having profited 

 by the sensible remarks of his trainer so far as to make 



