62 TALES OF PINK AND SILK. 



of fellows who rode in our local steeplechases who were no 

 better performers than myself Why should I not have a cut 

 in for the Manby Cup next spring ? And if I could but win 

 that, might it not be the means of my winning something nearer 

 to my heart — the hand of pretty Miss Manby, our Master's 

 daughter. Many a toss had I taken in vain attempts to dis- 

 tinguish myself in the hunting field, and yet each purler 

 made me feel that I was smaller than ever in her eyes, and 

 that my divinity was further than ever from my reach. 



" These thoughts were entering my head once more as I 

 stood watching the sale of the winner of the Maiden Selling 

 Steeplechase at the Market Clixby Meeting. Why not buy 

 Lucy Glitters ? 'Twas a good name. The mare was well 

 bred. Done! The mare was mine. But what a rude 

 awakening when I realised what I had bought I Never did 

 live greater rogues or crocks start for a £50 selling race. One 

 refused at the first fence, and nothing would induce it to 

 jump ; another, after two attempts, succeeded in running out ; 

 a third fell, hopelessly beaten, about half way, leaving Lucy 

 Glitters and a bay gelding called Dublin to fight it out 

 between them. The mare was sailing away in front, galloping 

 and fencing in perfect style, her rider sitting as still as a 

 mouse on her, and two fields from home it seemed ' all over 

 bar shouting.' Suddenly Dublin's jockey set to work, and the 

 old horse, who must have been useful once upon a time, 

 answered gamely. At the last fence he was close behind, and 

 coming up gradually. Still, the mare's jockey did not move. 

 Nearer and nearer crept the bay gelding ; and now the whip 

 sounded like pistol shots. That settled it. Back went Lucy 

 Glitters' ears, her stride shortened, and the old horse shot 

 past. With an oath the mare's jockey took up the whip, as 

 he crammed his spurs into her flanks. The sweet creature 

 stopped to kick. 'Twas all over now. 'Dublin wins in a 

 canter!' No! At the very moment that the mare com- 



