338 RACING IN CEYLON 



from the enormous size of his feet. He 

 had tried the animal good enough to win a 

 welght-for-class race, In which D. W. H. 

 Skrine (a pillar of the Ceylon turf I forgot 

 to mention) had a thoroughbred (English, I 

 fancy) engaged. The two met at morning 

 exercise one day, and their talk turned on 

 these races. 



''All bosh," said Skrine. "What weight, 

 I ask you, could bring a horse like this and 

 one like that too^ether ? " 



C. agreed. In the race he rode the stable 

 pace-maker, and finished in the ruck In a 

 most unorthodox manner, waving his cap 

 and yelling, "Go it. Soup-plates!" As they 

 returned to the paddock, he addressed the 

 discomfited Skrine — 



" Now, I ask you, what weight could bring 

 a horse like that, and one like Soup-plates, 



