XVII— RACING STORIES 



After riding at one of the Nice meetings, where 

 I experienced such consistently bad luck that 

 my state of mind was not happy, I met a brother 

 jockey in the evening. He was a good sort — one 

 of the best — and he noted my despondent mood 

 with anything but appreciation. His sense of 

 humour, always keen, was outraged by my lack 

 of sparkle. 



" What ! " he cried cynically, " down in the 

 mouth, eh ? You must keep a stiff upper lip, 

 even if there is no ' down ' on it, dear boy, and 

 face the music smiling." His cordial ministra- 

 tions were exhilarating. I was still sore from a 

 fall, a few of my ribs seemed to be bent, and, 

 oh yes, my nose — which has been described to me 

 as a not unassuming feature — was considerably 

 scarified. All the world was sad and gloomy for 

 a small jockey who had not been recently riding 

 winners. The need of consolation was urgent. 

 Was it possible that, with my luck so bad just 



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