OWN BROTHERS.

Press, Volume L, Issue 8476, 6 May 1893, Page 8

OWN BROTHERS.

The owners of racehorses generally treat those who ride for tbem very well, but there are exceptions to this, as to every other rule.

The following Is a case that happened to myself, and is what you must expect to meet with somebimes, even wheu your name is well known :—

lb was ab a back-end meeting in bhe north, when a man I knew slightly came up to mc in the paddock, and asked if I would ride Mr Thuroe's Slowcoach in the principal steeplechase that afternoon. Nob being over fond of chance mounts, I hesitated, but my friend produced a Ruff's Guide and pointed out thab the horse had won two or three times in Ireland, and ought to witt there. As the opposition was not stroug, and having had a bad week, I consented, stipulating that I should stand the odds to a pony. . My friend hurried away, and soon returned accompanied by Mr Thuroe, an elderly man, clean shaven, and with, to my eye, rather a crafty look about him. "You will find the old horse a pleasant mount, mister," he said : '* he never puts a foot wrong, und a baby might guide him. You had better make the running with him, as he is not over fast, bub is sure bo stay home." , "I see he is down as aged, 'pedigree unknown,' " said I. " That's it," replied the owner. " I picked him up three years ago come next March ab a fair for thirty pounds, and never made a better deal."

" Well, I'll do ray best, Mr Thuroe. It's understood I stand the odds to a pony with you in the commission." He did not seem to like this. Said the market was a very weak one, bhab I oughb to be satisfied in standing a tenner with him. Bat that did nob suit mc, so I stuck out for my pony, bo which he was obliged at length to give in. Well", what he said about the horse was true enough. Over a country an easier jumper I never rode, and when we cleared the last fence, with a two lengths' lead, I thought I was goiug to roll in. But here came the rub ; if ever a horse deserved his name, Slowcoach did his. He could nob go fasber bhdn a man in boots, and it was only by desperate hard riding that I got him home a winner by a length from a .horse I knew was a long way from a flyer.

Thuroe thanked mc warmly for winning, bub when ib came bo settling up coolly returned mc two to one as the odds to my pony, when the papers returned tbe starting price as three to one, and a friend of mine who had got on early had no difficulty about getting fives. I wrote him a most indignant letter, but all I got in reply was a scrawl on a half sheet of paper, to the effect that the commission had been bungled, and that two to one was the average price. Well, I was wild. If I had only risked a tenner I ought to have received nearly the same amouut, but I could do nothing. Only 1 swore to be equal with my friend some day. And I was too, by a lucky chance.

The following spring saw mc over in Ireland for Punchestown. Ie so happened that a great Irish breeder and racing owner had died shortly before, and his entire stud was to be sold off the day after tbe races. A friend who was on the lookout to buy an j thing that wenb cheap offered to drive mc over to the sale, and, as I had nothing to do,'l agreed. We gob there~a good bit before time and amused ourselves by going over the stables and looking at tbe horses. In one stall I came upon a big chestnut I seemed to know. ** Why, that's Slowcoach," I said to the groom who accompanied us. " No sor," he said, "that's a four-year-old by Planet, out of a half-bred mare by Whisky." I looked again, and was almost certain it was ray old friend Slowcoach, when I noticed that this horse had a white offhind fetlock. Now the other was a whole chestnut, a most uncommon thing, which made mc remember it. They must be brothers, I thought to myself.

Presently the sale commenced, and after a while the big chestnut was brought into the ring, being eventually knocked down for somethiug under a hundred guineas. " A cheap horse." I said to my friend; " who bought him f*

"Oh, a Mr Tom Burke; he's brother-in-law or something of that sort to old Thuroe, whom you may have heard of." " Rather," said I, and thought no more about it.

Before leaving Ireland I happened to see old Slowcoach run agaiu. It was at Baldoyle, which i 3 a grass course. A friend of mine was riding in the race, and I asked him if his mount was worth backing for a fiver.

" The only one I fear is Slowcoach," said

"Ob, you need not fear him on this course," I replied. "Just wait on him to the last fence aad then come away." Things fell out as I expected. Mr Thuroe's horse and my friend's took the last fence together and then parted company, my friend winning by half a dozen length's. Twelve months later I was in hard training to ride a mare bolonging to my pal Jack Courtenay. It was a real good tiling we considered for the Three Counties Handicap, and I was determined not to throw a chance away. The weights were out, and the mare had a couple of pounds less to carry than we had counted on.

As we were breakfasting on the morning of the race — Jack luxuriantly and I frugally—he said to mc, looking up from the paper, "I see old Slowcoach has arrived to ran ; there will be at least a dozen starters."

" We'll give old Thuroe a doing to-day," I said, feeling quite pleased at the prospect. " I only hope he will fancy his and back It."

A little later on, as I cantered down to the post Jack's mare, Miss Topsy t I passed old Slowcoach with a crack Irish jockey on his back. It struck mc that I had never seen the horse looking so well and fit. His chestnut coai, shone like satin, and he was playing with his bit as I had never seen him do before. We got off to a capital start, and when we once fairly got going, Thuroe's horse went to the front and made the running. When half the dis-

tance had been traversed I found myself alongside a horse called Stonecrop, whom I looked upon as my most uaugerous antagonist. Three fences from home Stonecrop and I both put on a spurt and went up. to Slowcoach, taking the next fence all three abreast. At the last hurdle only the last named and my mount were in it, and I shook up the mare, thinking to leave the old horse standing still. What was my surprise to find that if anything he had the pace of mc. He was leading half a length, and do what I could there was no heading him.. 1 sat down to ride, but ib was no good, directly the rider of Slowcoach I touched him with the spur, he *liot ahead and won easily by two length*. To say I was thunderstruck is using a mild expression. Here was a horse I had ridden myself and knew to be as slow as a top, beating a fast mare like ours for speed. 1 could not make it out. As we walked back to weigh in 1 took another look at ! Slowcoach and quite by accident my eye happened to fall on his off hind fetlock. There I espied half andozen white hairs. The blood flew to my head and 1 felt for the moment quite giddy. I saw it all in a moment. This was the other horse I had seen at the *ale, by Planet, dam by Whisky. Directly I entered the saddling enclosures I beckoned Jack Courlenay, who was looking dreadfully blue bo come to mc.

"Jack," said I, "run at once and lodge an objection to the wiuner, for false entry and wrong description. He is entered as ' aged." Giriim to havehis mouth examined. He is a five-year-old by Planet, and not old Slowcoach at all. If they want any other proof let them wash his off-hind fetlock."

Jack stared, but did as I bade him. There was a deuce of a row. Mr Ihuroe furiously declared no one should ex inline his horse's mouth, and as he stuck to his word, his horse wan disqualified, and the race awarded to Miss Topsy. Bets went with the stakes. It ended in Mr Thuroe being warned off. So, though I had some time to wait for it, my burn came at length. - F.P., in the Illustrated SportinQ and Dramatic.