My Racing Adventures 



had not been reared in a manger, so to speak, for 

 nothing. 



" All you think about, my lad," the trainer 

 growled, " is a juicy joint, and, if it is supremely 

 juicy with plenty of brown fat, you don't care 

 how much weight you put on so long as it is all 

 in one place — your blessed stomach." 



Yet, verily, great jockeys are not made by 

 gravy alone, and an apprentice who cannot do 

 without roast goose to an excessive extent — and 

 a growing boy's appetite is naturally monstrous 

 — is not likely to achieve classical or other dis- 

 tinction. Unless he is able to maintain a weasel- 

 like appearance and attenuation, his success in 

 the pigskin is virtually impossible so far as rac- 

 ing on the flat is concerned. 



As to this question, moreover, I recall the 

 particulars of a case at a Midland race meeting 

 where one of the jockeys failed to draw his right 

 weight when he returned to scale after winning 

 in a trot. He seemed to be considerably light, 

 and a cry of " Fetch the bridle," attracted atten- 

 tion. So, unduly stimulated, a wag exclaimed : 

 " Yes, and fetch the horse, and also a fat man to 

 hold him down when his wriggles become very 

 desperate." 



A funny story is likewise told concerning an 



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