TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS 47 



racers were the ponies which ran almost wild in the forest, 

 and were mounted by country lads, who learned to ride as 

 a fish learns to swim. Sometimes a professional jockey 

 turned up, but usually one of the shady sort. 



To one of these meetings, when old John Day was 

 young John, he and his brother Sam took a wonderful 

 little Danebury pony, thinking that with their knowledge 

 and science they would carry everything before them. 

 Still, they knew by experience that every country lad is 

 neither so innocent nor so stupid as he looks, and there 

 was no knowing to what tricks the latter might resort. 

 So, when they had put their pony into a stable, John 

 prevailed upon Sam to hide himself in a crate of straw, 

 in order that he might keep close watch upon the 

 animal, 



Sam's position was not only uncomfortable but perilous : 

 it was a tight fit to begin with, and the truss of hay which 

 cautious John had piled over him, being in constant 

 demand, became so diminished that he was in danger of 

 having a pitch-fork stuck into him. At length, so cramped 

 that he had almost lost the use of his limbs, Sam was 

 released from this durance vile, and the brothers with the 

 wonderful pony proceeded to the course. In the meantime, 

 it had got buzzed who they were, and presently a loutish- 

 looking country fellow, who wore a blue smock and a 

 butcher's apron, ragged corduroys and high-lows, and who 

 was driving a rickety old cart, accosted them. Taking 

 off his battered hat, and pulling his front hair, he addressed 

 John. 



"Ax pardon, sir," he said, in a very humble tone ; "but 

 I hope you won't take it amiss if I were to take this 'ere 

 old pony out o' the cart and run 'im against yourn ? " 



" And who are you, sir ? " demanded John Day, with 

 supercilious condescension, and greatly amused at the 

 yokel's audacity ; " put down your ^lo and we'll see 

 about it." 



Instead of looking flabbergasted and making off, as John 

 fully expected, the lout produced the amount from the 

 pocket of his ragged breeches with an alacrity that took 

 the Danebury youth rather aback, and suggested the un- 



