AND OTHER SKETCHES 165 



A TRUE SPORTSMAN EVERY INCH OF HIM. 



Handling a breech loader through the stubble or over 

 decoys, or, rifle in hand, on a still hunt, or casting the fly 

 for gamey trout or bass, my old friend Roddy Pringle 

 was a good performer. As a horseman he had few equals, 

 and as a turfman his career was above reproach. He was 

 an all-round sportsman of the highest type and his death 

 at a comparatively early age was sincerely mourned by 

 thousands who had the honor of his acquaintance. 



I passed many a pleasant day during a series of years 

 in his company here in Canada and at important racing 

 centres in the United States. He could not be called a 

 betting man. True, he was ready to back his opinion, 

 but he was not one of those turfmen who take no pleasure 

 in watching a race unless he has a pecuniary interest in 

 the result. Many a day he did not wager a dollar, but 

 yet took as keen an interest in the struggles of the thor- 

 oughbreds as if he had thousands at stake. 



My old friend was among the handful of true sports- 

 men who kept the turf spirit alive in Ontario after the 

 departure of the British troops and the advent of the 

 hard times which followed the American war. 



For at least twenty-five years the fate of Canadian 

 flat racing and steeplechasing trembled in the balance. 

 What between the then greater popularity of the trotter, 

 the scarcity of good thoroughbred horses, and the still 

 greater lack of thoroughbred horsemen, it was a hard 

 struggle to preserve the running turf from total eclipse. 

 Had it not been for a faithful few, who manfully, for 

 sheer love of the thoroughbred, and often at great per- 

 sonal and financial sacrifice, stood to their guns and kept 

 the old sport alive, the trotter would have had it all his 

 own way, and the men of the present day would not have 

 their Woodbine, nor would many of our modern Canadian 

 breeding studs be in existence. 



