My Racing Adventures 



and the rest was a blank to me. How I got 

 over the last few fences is one of those mysteries 

 which, if explained, would not cease to startle 

 folks interested in such weird sporting problems. 

 Taken out of the saddle, my reason returned — 

 it is often the case — and as I had seen no horses 

 in front of me, I acclaimed myself proudly as 

 the winner. Nobody objected to me ; it was not 

 worth while." ... It is easy enough to fancy 

 oneself a winner, of course, but the bookmakers 

 do not pay over such conceptions. 



With an imperial wave of his cigar, my volatile 

 host, whose symposium was perfectly successful, 

 took up the running again, as thus : 



"You knew old Peter Mubbles, who used to 

 keep horses for a long time so as to win valuable 

 handicaps ? ' Readying ' was his strong suit. He 

 was a man of infinite patience ; some of his old 

 'uns were monsters of iniquity. At a certain 

 stage of his career, when he was not knocking 

 spots off the enemy at every corner, Peter had 

 been 'waiting' with a three-year-old to win a 

 nice stake, and the colt had been growing fast 

 at the same time. While he was getting weight 

 off, so to say, he was putting height on ; a result 

 being that when he was stripped for the fray 

 about a year later he was quite a huge creature. 



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