244 ^ Morning at Newmarket 



business he understands best, and trains horses for his 

 friends. The idea of a gentleman taking to the business 

 was not a little derided when he began, on the ground 

 that he either would not stick to it, or, sticking to it, 

 would make a mess of it ; but neither supposition has 

 turned out to be correct ; his horses are quite as fit and 

 well- trained as other people's, and he wins his share of 

 races. Yesterday he did not win one that he thought 

 he could not lose, but he is philosophical, and in reply 

 to a word of condolence, only makes a wry face, in which 

 good temper is still dominant. These disappointments 

 will happen — it is the fortune of racing. 



It is rather remarkable how many of the trainers have 

 been steeplechase jockeys. Here is one who carried off 

 the Grand National, height of a cross-country rider's 

 ambition, and was successful, moreover, on the stable's 

 second string. There is nearly always a humorous 

 twinkle in his eye, and you can imagine how it was 

 developed on that occasion. Are those the ones we are 

 seeking, there in the distance to the right ? The clothing, 

 and a conspicuous pair of white hind legs on an ungainly 

 chesnut, suggest it ; but closer examination shows a 

 white pony and a white cob in attendance, and we know 

 what horses those must be, for the trainer rides the 

 pony, and a particularly well-known sportsman, manager 

 of the stable, is surely on the cob. An exceptionally 

 sound and wary judge of racing our friend is, too. If 

 he tells you one of his has a chance, or that ' you had 

 better have a few sovereigns on that one to-day,' you 

 would be unwise to neglect the hint ; for, though his face 

 may seem impassive, few things that come within the 

 range of his eye-glass escape being accurately summed up. 



A wide belt of trees is now in front of us, a tan track 



