324 WAYFARING NOTIONS 



house is placed, the subject must have a very weak 

 place somewhere. There was wind there to blow 

 daffydowndillies out of the ground ; but, then, I 

 would a lot rather have the benefit of such tonic 

 breezes than be able to grow any quantity of 

 bulbs, from the most expensive and ornate down 

 to the very estimable savouries of the onion 

 family. The stables lie a goodish way off in a 

 sheltered corner, and are made, in part, by re- 

 forming old farmery premises. Over the way is 

 a high ridge, beautifully wooded, and in its shelter 

 Boveridge, where is Mr Thursby's house and also 

 the stables whence so many winners were sent 

 out. I had hoped to call and see Mr Thursby, 

 but heard of him being out wasting on the road 

 to Salisbury. Mighty convenient for that purpose 

 his place lies, because you can have an eight or 

 nine mile or a bigger walk, right away to the city, 

 and make the half-way house, or, for the purposes 

 of exercise, your terminus, at the funny little 

 Turkish Bath, which has more than once done 

 me good service. 



Curiously enough, I have on several occasions 

 chosen Salisbury and its meeting in May to have 

 lumbago, have gone to these baths, and have 

 come away cured. Of this relief I was pointedly 

 reminded as I toddled along from close to Wood- 

 yates, for ever to be associated with the name of 

 William Day, writer of the most informing racing 

 and racehorse books ever published. But of the 

 symptoms more presently, as we have a word on 

 the return journey. Let me, if possible, cut the 

 cackle and do the other thing. As in duty bound 

 when the master of the stables invites you, I 

 paid respect to the stud. With most of its 

 members I was on speaking acquaintance, and 



