276 SPORTING REMINISCENCES 



and stuffed up the windows, but this time a stable 

 boy lay in the loft covered in hay where he could 

 peep down. 



He saw Sullivan close the doors, the windows 

 had had bags put over them, and walk quietly 

 up to the mare, put his arms round her neck and 

 draw her head down. She broke out all over her 

 glossy coat, turning black, but she stood trembling 

 and quiet. The Whisperer held her head down, 

 his face close to her ear. He crossed over repeating 

 this at the far side. Then he handled her gently, 

 rubbing her wet neck, lifting her feet, and then 

 held her head again. The light was dim, but the 

 boy saw all this. 



After about half an hour, Sullivan opened the 

 door and called for a bridle, led the mare out. 

 She was still sweating and trembling. She was 

 saddled, ridden, going quite quietly, and she 

 never showed temper again. The Whisperer was 

 well known, it is so long ago that he is almost for- 

 gotten, but a few days ago I heard another similar 

 story, except that no one watched him. 



He would tell you with a little smile that he 

 knew what the horses talked about and that they 

 understood him. No one ever learnt the secret 

 of his power. 



A man in County Limerick who died lately had 

 a cure for farcy, the secret of which he kept to 

 himself; the well-known mare Molly Morgan of 

 the Adare stud was cured by him, among hundreds 



