THE HACK. 183 



We cannot express the infinite joy there is in the full speed 

 of a thoroughbred. It is like the rocking of a wave, but it 

 is so soft, so refined, that the air which we cleave annuls the 

 feeling of weight. It is a mighty, intoxicating flight, with- 

 out effort and without fatigue ; a physical joy which puts 

 the mind to sleep, and leaves nothing living in us, except the 

 maddening pleasure of flying through space. 



I consider that the thorough-bred horse makes man perfect. 



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