80 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSE DEALER, 



" Who's Sir William ?" said the coper. 



"Why, the old American horse that trotted eighteen 

 miles within the hour, on Knutsford race course ; you 

 must have heard of him," said Mr. S . 



" Oh ! yes; you mean Hoger Bo wring's horse of Pen- 

 dleton ; why, a deal depends how he is ridden. Now, 

 this cob wont go near so fast with you for the first week 

 or two, as he went with me to-day, you see ; for one 

 thing, you are a heavier man, and you will not have the 

 knack of keeping him together until he gets accustomed 

 to your hands, therefore I should advise you to keep him 

 dark a week or two, until you are sure that you are able 

 to get his fastest pace out of him. So I wish you good 

 day, sir, for I'm off to Ireland to-night. I will call 

 upon you when I come back, and see how you like him," 

 said the coper, as he took his departure. 



Mr. S rode his new purchase to the farm on the 



following day, but his trotting fever considerably abated, 

 when, after sending him along at the top of his speed, 

 all that he could squeeze out of him, amidst whipping, 

 spurring, fretting, and breaking, was a mile in six 

 minutes. " He's not accustomed to my hands yet," said 

 he to himself. Morning after morning the cob was tried, 

 but a mile in Jive minutes was all that could be got out 

 of him, after a month's riding, timeing, and nursing. 



Old Blazeaway was a well-known fifteen n>ile an hour 



horse, and in the two-mile match Mr. S reasonably 



thought that, although not in trotting trim, he would at 

 least go in the match at Stretford twelve miles an hour, 



