60 TALES AND TRAITS OF SPORTING LIFE. 



of another still succeeding year lie had again carried off 

 his favourite race, the Oaks, for Mr. Coshy, on Pussy ; 

 and this landmark at once leads us to the great era in 

 John Day's life as a jockey and trainer — his connection 

 with Lord George Bentinck. When that grand meteor 

 gradually shone forth upon the hemisphere, John Day 

 was his attendant satellite. It was John who advised, 

 who trained, who rode, who hought, and who hetted. 

 It was John Day who vanned Elis into Doncaster^ and 

 courted Fortune with a hold stroke for success that was 

 fated, alas ! never again to he so realised in such a con- 

 junction. In vain the string was increased. In vain that 

 the nominations swelled the pages of the Calendars, or 

 that investments followed in the hooks of the industrious. 

 Too late was it that simple Mr. Bowe hloomed forth into 

 Lord George himself, or that the good Duke of Portland 

 came to imderstand, in jockey-hoy lingo, ^' who belonged 

 to all these horses." It was a dashing game to play, 

 „oo ! and what a stand they made on the first trumi;) card 

 the}^ drew ! How well we yet remember Grey Momus' 

 race for the Derby ! How the crowd took to him, and 

 cheered him, and singled him out at ^' the corner " and 

 roared ^' the Grey! the Grey !'' till they could roar no 

 more. And while John was rolling about on Ms rolling 

 tired horse, how close and quiet an old acquaintance, one 

 Mr. Chappie sat, knowing he had got the length of him, 

 and knowing — as no one ever did better — that he had 

 only to bide his time to win. And then popularity 

 veered round like tlie weathercock it is, and the poor grey 

 was led off without a soul to sympathise with him, while 

 shouts rent the air again and again for ^*^ Sir Gilbert !*' 

 But Grey Momus was not half a bad horse either. In a 

 week or so we saw him win the Ascot Cup with '^ little 



