hi the Off-Season 275 



— To find out where horse-dealers get that 

 very bright red gravel that one always sees. 

 Wonder if it is specially grown for them ?) 

 and are met at the nearest stable door by a 

 neatly gaitered groom in a white linen jacket, 

 and duly introduced to a big-boned bay horse 

 standing; in the first stall. 



" Now there, sir, is a horse that's done a 

 bit of work : seasoned hunter " [Mem. — Too 

 many season'd hunter ; got a tooth about a 

 foot long). " I could take a little money for 



him, too " But Mr. Nemo seeing you 



shaking your head, whilst one eye rests on 

 a peculiarly doubtful-looking hock, he passes 

 on, with the remark that perhaps you wanted 

 something a bit better class than the bay ? 



You say you think you do. 



You pass in turn a weight-carrying grey, 

 a weedy chestnut with white heels and an 

 evil eye, a sleepy - looking black, which 

 was probably only debarred from the second- 

 hand funeral trade throug;h lackino^ the 

 necessary turn of speed for the business, 

 and a piebald. Then the worthy dealer 



