146 ONLY THE MARE 



owner of an unwholesome-looking face, decorated as 

 to the chin with a straggling crop of bristles which 

 he would have probably termed an imperial. 



" Wust year I ever 'ad ! " he exclaimed (and a 

 broken pane in the window enabled me to hear- 

 distinctly), " The Two Thousand 'orse didn't run ; 

 got in deep over the Derby ; Hascot was hawful ; 

 and though I had a moral for the Leger, it went 

 down." 



His own morals, judging from his appearance and 

 conversation, appeared to have followed the example 

 of that for the Leger. 



" I can't follow your plans about this race down 

 here, though," said his companion, a younger man, 

 who seemed to hold the first speaker in great awe 

 despite his confessions of failure. " Don't you say 

 that this young Blankney's horse can't get the 

 distance ? " 



" I do. He never was much good, I 'ear ; never 

 won nothing, though he's run in two or three 

 hurdle-races ; and since Phil Kelly's been preparing 

 of 'im for this race he's near about broke down. 

 His legs swell up like bolsters after his gallops ; 

 and he can't get three miles at all, I don't believe, 

 without he's pulled up and let lean agin something 

 on the journey to rest hisself." 



" And yet you're backing him ? " 



