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Updated: June 6, 2025
All the world knows to-day how she re-established her jockey's fame and made her own. When, after an unforgettable season in Australia, he returned to England with the American mare, the pair had never been beaten. And in the Old Country they repeated the performance of Australia. Together they won the Sefton, the International, and last of all the National.
You are behaving in a most extraordinary fashion, destroying your clothing and acting like a madman generally. What was the use of ripping up a handsome tie like that?" "I despise loud hues. Red is a jockey's color," I answered. "But you did not destroy the red tie," said he, with a smile. "You tore up your blue one look. There it is on the floor. The red one you still have on."
"She look very grim," he afterward reported to Old Mat. "Keeps a stiff lip for a little 'un," whispered a lad peeping from behind the jockey's shoulder. Monkey Brand rounded on him. "If you'd 'alf her 'eart," he said, "you might be mistook for a man." For three weeks thereafter Putnam's knew the girl no more; and it seemed that the soul had died out of the place.
It was not a pad saddle such as jockey's ride, nor yet a civilian outfit without horn and only one web. It was a genuine western, with high horn and high cantle and two cinches, but much reduced in every dimension. "Will that fit the pony you saw over at the B-line?" Landy looked the saddle over carefully. "Hit's made by a saddle-maker all right, and will fit that hoss to a tee.
Fortunately or unfortunately, as one may choose to look at it Miss Prue did not know that in the dim recesses of Jupiter's memory there lurked the smell of the turf, the feel of the jockey's coaxing touch, and the sound of a triumphant multitude shouting his name; in Miss Prue's estimation the next deadly sin to treason and murder was horse racing.
Supposing she got ill, or failed to satisfy the audience. She would see her name to-morrow when she went out in large letters on the posters of the Hippodrome: "Arithelli, the beautiful English equestrienne," and underneath some appalling picture of herself in columbine skirts, or jockey's silk jacket and cap and top boots.
"That wire business," continued the little man in the same monotonous undertone without moving his lips. "Ought to be able to do a little better than that with an edication like yours. Where's the good of Oxford else?" Joses came closer swiftly. "See here, Monkey Brand," he said. "Do you mean business, or don't you?" The jockey's face was inscrutable.
"He's headed the list for five seasons now." "He wins," said Monkey grimly. "Them as has rode against him knows 'ow." Silver edged his pony up along the other. "You've ridden against him?" he inquired with cunning innocence. The little jockey's eyes became dreamy. "My ole pal Chukkers," he mused. "Him and me. Yes, I've rode agin' him twenty year now.
He came to say farewell; he had his own nest to feather, and could do a more profitable business in the lowlands than up here in the forest. Finally he offered Adam his property at a very low price. The smith had smiled at the jockey's proposal, still he went to the Richtberg the very next day to see the place. There stood the executioner's house, from which the whole street was probably named.
Ritter had introduced his coachman as Mr. Boabo. He wore a small round hat of brown felt, brown gloves, and a short brown jockey's overcoat. His chin was heavy, his nose finely chiselled, and his moustache dark and downy. He was a handsome man, or lad, since boyish naïveté still predominated in his expression. He was about the same age as Ritter.
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