180 A Sportsman at Large 



During the time Harry Hoad was training my greyhounds 

 at Southminster, Michels had a very useful string ; among 

 them the little bk. b. p. Minchmuir, whose kennel name was 

 Juliet. We two owners had no kennel secrets between us, and 

 acted as if all the inmates of the establishment were common 

 to us both. Another very fast puppy was Dark Cloth (Weasel) , 

 registered (like the ill-fated Dark Crystal) in the name of 

 my son Denis ; but this one, a w. and bd. d. p., was not pos- 

 sessed of great stamina, and was more adapted to "The 

 Enclosures " than to legitimate coursing. Minchmuir won a 

 splendid Waterloo trial, and we all had great faith in her 

 ability to make a show in the great event, in which she filled 

 her owner's nomination. When the card was called over, she 

 was on offer at 40 to i, at which price we backed her to win 

 some six thousand pounds, and split the bets pro rata. And a 

 right royal run we had for our money too ! She worked her 

 way into the semi-finals in faultless fashion, then to our great 

 delight she led and well beat her next opponent ; but alas, 

 that bugbear of coursing owners and trainers, a fresh hare, in- 

 tervened, and away went Juliet, right up The Withens and 

 over the bank on to a stiff plough. By the time she was 

 picked up, she was baked to a frazzle, and only twenty minutes 

 to go before she was due in the slips to contest the final ! What 

 cruel, what exasperating luck again ! 



Everything that expert knowledge, skill and experience 

 were able to do was put into practice, and all we could hope for 

 was a deus e% machina a miracle of luck to discount the 

 crushing handicap ! The other finalist was Mr. Herbert's* 

 f. d. p. Homfray, no doubt a useful, but by no means a 

 brilliant customer, and an uncommonly lucky one to get 

 where he was. 



As might be expected, Minchmuir came stiffly from the 

 slips ; but the fawn only led a length at the turn, and not 

 coming round particularly smoothly, led up our little bitch, 

 who nicked in and drove her hare for a meritorious turn, 

 wrenched twice, and then made a desperate effort to kill. 

 Had she done so, her name would have been added to the list 

 of Waterloo Cup Champions. As it was, she " flecked " her 



* Nom de chasse. 



