A SPORTING TRIP TO FRANCE. 167 



crack, goes my whip, and I land Saltfish a 

 winner by a head ! 



On returning to scale, I ask what is the matter, 

 and am told my poor French friend, he of the 

 scarlet stockings, who had stuck so close to me 

 throughout, is killed. This, however, happily 

 was not the case ; he had entirely pumped his 

 horse, who swerved at the cords, and pitched his 

 rider headlong amongst some carts. It was a 

 wonder he was not killed on the spot ; but he got 

 off with a broken arm, and was quite senseless 

 when taken up. 



I would here diverge a little from the subject 

 with a word to my younger readers who are 

 given to racing. Never make too free, or make 

 too much use of your horse at the beginning of 

 a race, unless it is for some especial purpose, 

 such as making running, as I did, to serve a 

 friend, &c., &c. ; and when you find your nag 

 sinking, or dying away with you, never put the 

 steam on, or punish, unless you know him to be 

 a thorough slug, who wants well rousing. A 

 beaten horse can never win a race where others 

 are comparatively fresh, and it shows bad judg- 

 ment and jockeyship. Many and many a horse 



