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Updated: April 30, 2025
"He isn't my friend in that way at all." "In what way then?" "He understands racing." "He is the partner of your pleasure then; the man in whose society you love to enjoy the recreation of the race-course." "It is, sir, because he understands it." "I thought that a gentleman on the turf would have a trainer for that purpose; not a companion.
He had a pail of milk in his hand, and, no sooner had the calf seen this, than the striped creature made a rush for the hired man. "Look out!" cried Grandpa Brown. "Come back here!" cried Sue, to the calf. Perhaps she thought the calf would mind her, since Sue had been the make-believe wild animal trainer in the circus.
On the other two sides were little zinc-lined rooms, with different kinds of pipes, which Ken concluded were used for shower baths. Murray, the trainer, was there, and two grinning negroes with towels over their shoulders, and a little dried-up Scotchman who was all one smile. "Murray, here's my bunch. Look 'em over, and to-morrow start 'em in for keeps," said Arthurs.
It was only through an idealistic power that He cemented them together, proving that He was a Prophet of God, an Educator and Trainer. Likewise, must we set aside prejudice in considering other divine Educators by investigating reality. For instance, let us take Christ. He achieved results greater than Moses. He educated the body politic, trained mighty nations.
His Majesty the Rana loves me as a cheetah loves his trainer. He's an intractable rascal." "They grease the wheels of the independent native States with intrigue," Farrell explained. "I know from sore experience. And your Rajput is the deepest of the lot. I don't envy Raikes, here."
In Tom Shevlin's year at Yale, 1902, Mike Sweeney, his old trainer and coach at Hill School, was in New Haven watching practice for about four days before the first game. Practice that day was a sort of survival of the fittest, for they were weeding out the backs, who were doing the catching. About five backs were knocked out.
I had the fellow to his tea at my dinner-table yesterday evening; locked him in his bedroom, and had him up and out for a morning spin at six. His trainer, Flipper's on the field, drove from Esslemont at nine, confident as trumps. 'Deuce of a good-looking girl, Potts could now afford to say; and he sang out: 'Feel fit, lucky dog? 'Concert pitch! was the declaration of Kit Ives.
Speed obeyed instructions sullenly, while his trainer, reclining in the cosey-corner, uncorked the second bottle. From behind the blanket curtains where the barrel stood, the former demanded: "What did you mean by saying I'd have to run again this afternoon?" "Starts!" said Glass, shortly. "Starts?" "Fast work. We been loafing so far; you got to get some ginger." "Rats! What's the use?"
The letter pledged the agent to the strictest secrecy, and directed him to back Geoffrey's opponent in the Foot-Race for a sum equal to the sum which Perry had betted on Geoffrey himself. "If you have got any money of your own on him," the letter concluded, "do as I do. 'Hedge' and hold your tongue." "Another of 'em gone stale!" said the trainer, looking round again at the sleeping man.
Steadily his trainer wrought over him, bringing out latent abilities that would have dumfounded his earliest teachers, steadying and directing the gayly dashing intelligence; upbuilding and rounding out all his native gifts. A dog of Bruce's rare type made up to the trainers for the dullness of their average pupils. He learned with bewildering ease. He never forgot a lesson once taught.
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