Too Bad to be True. 75 



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oats, and then asked him the most moderate question 

 ever put to a supposed racehorse : it was to bring the 

 Galloway Caliph home for the last half mile of a four- 

 mile sweat. The little grey "lost" our new acquaintance, 

 although he was giving him at least 28 lbs. in the shape 

 of hoods and rugs. As men will do, we comforted 

 ourselves with that fine old racing adage, " The form 

 is too bad to be true." " A darn sight too bad," we 

 should have said. We eased him in his work. We 

 watched him with the solicitude exhibited by a hen 

 towards her only duckling, and were rewarded, when 

 we tried him again with Caliph at a difference of two 

 stone on the Dehra course, the following season, for 

 a mile, to see him tumble down at the turn home, being 

 evidently appalled at the look of the hill in front of 

 him. My friend sold him as a charger, for which 

 character he was well suited, as he was a fairly hand- 

 some peacock. 



After Sealkote, I returned to Meean Meer, got more 

 leave of absence, and then went to Ferozepore, where 

 we won most of the races, but not much money, as the 

 regiment there at the time did not go in for sport. 



I had a mount at that meeting on Mr. Bailey's Top- 

 rail, whom he had sent along with Captain Maxwell's 



