218 LATTER HALF OF RACING SEASON OF 1845. 



tremble and quiver like an aspen leaf. I could not 

 get her to touch food ; and when she went out, I 

 was full of apprehension that she would run against 

 a tree and kill herself or her rider. In despair I 

 resolved at last to put a very steady quiet lad upon 

 her, who weighed nine stone, and had very light 

 hands. I told him to keep her out all day, some- 

 times riding and sometimes leading her, first with 

 one set of horses and then with another. In the 

 afternoon she accompanied the yearlings ; and at 

 last I discovered, to my infinite satisfaction, that 

 she was becoming less fractious, and regaining her 

 confidence. Soon she began to feed better, and I 

 added a liberal supply of flour to the water which 

 she drank. I then put her into the yearling trials, 

 telling her lad to stop her when she had galloped 

 a couple of furlongs, and to canter in gently after 

 the others. 



At last I got her perfectly quiet, so that a friend 

 of mine who had known her at Newmarket ex- 

 claimed, " Why, that is not the same animal that 

 I saw win the Prendergast ! You have made her 

 as round as an apple and as sleek as a mole." 

 Time, patience, and gentle treatment had worked 

 wonders with her, as they will with all horses 

 which have been maltreated and misunderstood — 

 a very common occurrence in these days of sprint - 

 races, in which no starter has any chance unless 

 " quick out of the slips," and, as the phrase runs, 

 " always on his tiptoes." As My Mary was a 



