110 SPORTING REMINISCENCES 



Now the crowd had made a custom as fixed as 

 the riders. They used to surge across the course 

 proper where the turn for home was marked by a 

 tottering post, and never dreamt of getting out 

 of this part of the course. 



The rider of the favourite was in ill-humour, 

 and was pleased to make disparaging remarks 

 about the old horse ridden by the too popular 

 hunting man. 



Something concerning " he might make a good 

 last if he was shook up," and sarcastic hopes that 

 his mare had been backed. 



My friend had gallantly put money on his old 

 stager, and so had crowds of his friends, tempted 

 by the odds of six to one and the off chance. 



The race was, as it was expected to be, a 

 procession with the chestnut mare hard held so 

 as to save her next handicap, but ready to come 

 away and win at any moment. 



The old horse, softening out, plugged along 

 stolidly well up ... he gained at every bend. 



As they pounded along bending and twisting, 

 the crowd surged as usual across the place where 

 the horses ought to have turned for home ; they 

 were yelling, cheering, howling, and it was at this 

 point that inspiration came in. 



Running the chance of missing the roped-in 

 straight, or of kilhng someone, my friend wheeled 

 the horse right into the crowd, shouting wildly, 

 letting others nm on wide, 



