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Updated: June 14, 2025
More than one came to thrust a soft muzzle over the door of the stall and with pointed ears and intelligent gaze seemed to ask if the pretty, brown-eyed girl had something nice in her pocket. "Hi, Miss!" croaked a hoarse voice behind her. "If you want to see a bang-hup 'orse a real topper come down 'ere."
There is a Richmond in Yorkshire, but you don't expect a man to drive there at this time of night?" "When do you expect to get to the end of your journey at this rate?" I asked. "The fact is, sir," said the driver, leaning confidentially backward, "the 'orse is tired.
The fat man stalked majestically into the stewards' stand, and on being asked how he came to give Spite the second prize, remarked oracularly: "I judge the 'orse, I don't judge the rider." This silenced criticism, and everyone adjourned to have a drink. Over the flowing bowl the fat man said: "You see, I don't believe in this nonsense about points. I can judge 'em without that."
"Don't he fly 'em," said one man, waving his hat. At the last fence he made his spring yards too soon; his forelegs got over all right, but his hind legs dropped on the rail with a sounding rap, and he left a little tuft of hair sticking on it. "I like to see 'em feel their fences," said the fat man. "I had a bay 'orse once, and he felt every fence he ever jumped; shows their confidence."
Nappie was a Huddersfield man, who had come to Glasgow in the course of the last winter, and whose popularity in the hunting-field was not as yet quite so great as it perhaps might have been. "There's been a mistake, I suppose," said the master. "Mistake, my lord! Take a man's 'orse off the rail at Stewarton, and him booked to Kilmarnock, and ride him to a standstill! It's no mistake at all.
Zachy Jackson they'll say which is my name, sir, if yer requirin' a good 'orse any time o' day. Zachy Jackson! which there ain't no man, tarkin' of 'orses, fit to touch 'im, they'll tell yer and not far wrong either."
His 'orse comed on to the station one day without him, and with the saddle twisted right round, and hanging under his belly. So ye see, sir, his people fancied he had got a 'buster' somehow, and went a-search of him, but couldn't find him nohow.
"They'll keep me on till after the National. He's not everybody's 'orse, Four-Pound ain't. If they was to make a change now, he might go back on himself." The tout's breathing came a little quicker in the darkness. "D'you see to him?" "Me and Albert." "Is Albert goin' to ride him?" "Don't you believe it?" mocked the little jockey. The tout drew closer. "Who is, then?"
She don't care about the 'orse or the race no woman ever did; it's all about some sweetheart that's been piling it on." "I wonder if you're right," said Esther, reflectively. "I never knew her before to take such an interest in a horse-race." On the day of the race Sarah came into the private bar about three o'clock. The news was not yet in.
Kipling's hand, "and give 'em to Private Dickson, B Company; and mind, if yer cawn't find 'im, jest tike 'em back ter Williams, opposite the White 'Orse." Mr. Kipling promised faithfully, and gave a receipt, which he signed; but the man did not notice the name. "My friend," said Mr. Kipling, "you'll get your head chaffed off when you get back to the guard-room."
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