My Racing Adventures 



— though he was not by nature a loquacious man 

 — that one of the best horses he ever rode was 

 " Cosmopolite," as to whom a good story is told. 

 When he steered that celebrity at Hereford, 

 " Cosmopolite " was in charge of an Irishman, 

 who used to talk rather too much concerning 

 his own business — always a foolish thing to do 

 (especially on a racecourse) when your business 

 is likely to yield a dividend. 



Before that race at Hereford, the Irishman 

 mentioned to a few confidential friends — and he 

 might as well have proclaimed the news from the 

 top of the grand stand — that his competitor was 

 not sure to win, since his object was to get weight 

 off for the Grand National. On the night of his 

 arrival at Hereford, so the story goes, he indulged 

 his convivial tastes somewhat too freely, with the 

 result that he could not ride his charge next day. 

 His bosom friends put up my father, and backed 

 the horse to win a nice stake, which he landed 

 comfortably. For the great event at Liverpool, 

 his weight went up considerably, his success was 

 discounted, and the moral of the story, as my sire 

 explained to us, was this : " Keep your hands 

 down and your mouth shut when you have a 

 horse good enough to win when you want him." 



It is a remarkable fact that my three brothers 



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