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Updated: June 11, 2025
When Lucy agreed that it would be all right, Val boosted him into the saddle where he clung like a jockey. "An' wheah is yo'all goin', Mistuh Val?" asked Lucy, cutting out round cookies with a downward stroke of the drinking glass she had pressed into service. The regular cutter was, in her opinion, too small. "Down toward the bayou.
Race people were ready to cry out that a jockey was fixed-that there was something wrong, when their own judgment was at fault and they lost. Suddenly Porter gave a cry of astonishment. "My God!" he muttered, "the boy has got spurs on. That'll set the mare clean crazy." He turned to Dixon, who was at his elbow: "Why did you let McKay put on the steels?" "I told him not to." "He's got them on."
On every finger, he wore a ring, he had new, white and coloured, silk and satin, clothes, covered with gilt braid; two silver watches, one in each side-pocket of his tunic; and two jockey whips, one in each hand. He used to tell people that he brought the expedition over, and when he went back he was sure Sir Thomas Elder would fit him out with an expedition of his own.
"He got round all right, then, Brand?" she said. "Oh, yes, 'm," chirruped the little jockey. "It was light goin', so his pipe didn't trouble him; and he fenced like he was in Paridise. I lay off a bit till they was all bust, then I come right away through 'em and spread-eagled the lot." The woman's hand, strong yet tender, passed down the old horse's flank. "I see you waled him," she said.
They came down the straight on the first time round, packed closely, a glittering mass of shining horses and bright colours. One dropped at the jump near the judge's box, and as the other horses raced away round the turn the riderless horse followed, while his jockey lay still for a moment, a little scarlet blur upon the turf.
"It was, rather," admitted the young man. "But it gave me my head in one way. You see, father didn't approve of horses, though he was a farmer's son himself. He was afraid of the Turf. But he was always very good to me. He let me hunt when I was a boy though he didn't like it." The young man laughed. "But when I grew big he was awfully pleased. 'You'll never make a jockey now, he used to say.
But when the girl talks about her five hundred pounds so glibly, as though she had a right to expect it, and spoke of this jockey with such inward pride of heart " "A girl ought to be proud of her husband." "Your niece ought not to be proud of marrying a groom. But she angered me, and so did my aunt, though I pitied her.
"Oh, 'Betty' followed you, on the day the person who calls himself Willy Forrest, but is really the son of a jockey named Weston, returned from Winchester. We were anxious about you, Alban we questioned the company into which you had fallen. I may say, indeed, that our hearths were desolate and crape adorned our spears.
But they could not save the catastrophe which they knew was imminent. The horse advanced with long, wild strides, and knocked the crippled old man over as if he were a ninepin. He came on at a gallop now, the jockey leaning forward and trying to catch a broken bridle, his two stirrups flying, his cap off. The little man was swearing in English.
"Who wants to take a whirl, boys?" Inside of three minutes he had placed a hundred dollars. The terms of the race were arranged and the money put in the hands of the foreman. "Each man to ride his own caballo," suggested Hart slyly. This brought a laugh. The idea of Ad Miller's two hundred and fifty pounds in the seat of a jockey made for hilarity.
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