My Racing Adventures 



may not be successful in that feat till his savings 

 are exhausted. 



Once, for instance, a stranger asked me at 

 Aintree — after I had had a fall, but not in the 

 " National " — whether I was seriously hurt — 1 was 

 severely shaken — also whether I enjoyed pain 

 for its own sake or for its consequent emolu- 

 ments, and whether I thought the play was 

 worth the candle, considering that the candle 

 was liable to be extinguished at any moment. 

 " The slightest puff," he said, " and pop goes 

 the weasel." It was impossible for me to answer 

 categorically. I promised to obtain the desired 

 information for him without delay, and to 

 send it to any address that he would be kind 

 enough to impart to me, with injunctions as to 

 the strictest secrecy. Those jokers at the races 

 are often irresistible, but they are prone to be 

 less scintillating when they are "broke" again. 



On the whole, after mature reflection of course, 

 I have come to the conclusion that the race 

 which has given me the greatest pleasure in life 

 — though I have ridden in the Derby — is the 

 Grand National. There is so much incident, so 

 much excitement, the " lepping " is so delightful. 

 The struggle is strenuous, the pace hot from 

 start to finish. Everybody is eager to watch the 



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