THE HORSE LAUGH

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22867, 23 October 1937, Page 15 (Supplement)

THE HORSE LAUGH

Short Story By GREGORY CLARK

Noted Canadian Humorist (Copyright)

YT7TITH your luck," said 46 \X/ Jimmie Frise, "and my ▼ V brains we- could clean up A fortune at the races." " I think racing," I declared, " is the dizziest ,pastime in the world. I wouldn't give you five cents for the races. I would rather stay at the office and work any day." "-Come this afternoon," begged Jimmie. " Just to change my luck, see? I'll buy you a good mystery novel. You can sit in the grandstand and read it. You don't even have to look up when the horses come down the straight. Honest, I have a hunch. Do me the favour of coming to the course. For. luck." "There is no snch thing as luck," I stated. " There is. a co-ordination of circumstances. There is a series of facts, always shifting, always varying in force and value. But there is no luck. "You said it," agreed Jim. "Get all the facts and you get all the luck. But just the same, I have a hunch that if you would come to the races with me I'd make money." " How silly," I submitted. " Put it this way," said Jim. "You're sort -of simple. You see things that most other people don't see, just because you are simple. You could come to a racecourse where there are fifteen thousand people and, because vou are the only 0110 ' never looked at a racehorse before, you f could see that racehorse the way nobody elso could see it. A\o would be looking at its legs. You would be looking at the expession in its eyes or something." " Offhand," I admitted, " I would suggest you could tell a lot more about a racehorse by looking at the expression in its eyes than by looking at its form on a chart." " There you are," cried Jim. "It IB that instinct you have that I'want 'to work for me. Just come to the races once. Come this afternoon." " I would rather go this morning." I pointed out, casting an eye out of. the window at a ver3 T bright and cheerful day, "if it is to look over the horses you want my-particular gifts." " There's an idea," confessed Jim. ' So after a little business of confusing the boss with a few imaginary 'phone calls and busy dashing out into tne corridor and back, which is the way Jim and 'I create the impression there is a big story about to break and *,we have it exclusively, we slipped out ■the back door and into the parking lot and in no time at all, through a shining morning we arrived out at the racecourse.? If I were ever to become interested in racecourses it would be only in the middle of the mornings. I' There is something so old-world, so J Kentucky, so lazy and roostery crow- | Jng, so stable boys sleeping in the sun about a race-track in the middle of/ the J inorning that f wonder anybody can I' be bothered crowding into the enclosures in the afternoon just to watch a pack of skins go panting around the ring. I Jim," I said'; as we started to stroll down the first aisle of stables, "do they mind us walking in here?" | "We're newspapermen," pointed out | Jim. | .We norlded smilingly and wisely to | little groups of stable boys sitting and | lying about, looking up at us from 1 tinder the peaks of caps. We paused 1/ jftnd watched men binding horses' logs, 1 Crushing, petting. We stood and gazed I »t the splendid beasts, brown and lean i find with that curious quality of p 'Specialness that vou feel in actresses ij flnd beauties and all people who do jtj something very extra particular. To i toe, at least, there is 110 feeling of comS| munion with a racehorse, such as I <an feel with a common horse. It is I Jike looking at a chiua horse or a |j picture of a horse, They have dev(eloped racehorses so fine and far they fcave pushed them almost over the disj,f| jtant edge of plain, hearty common i- Sife. H "What a beauty," breathed Jim; as gj Pe came to a stall where a horse 'looked with wild, bright eye out of tho g tipper half-door. " Did you ever see |i Puch spirit?" H ".Yes," I said, "in a maiden lady 1 Swine a boat in a gale of wind. I I Wouldn't bet five cents 011 that horse. 1 it has the jitters. Any horse that can I look like that on a lazy morning like || this is in need of a couple of months || ®t a sanatorium." |1 'All racehorses are like that," explained Jim. "They wouldn't be racokorses unless they had spirit." 'ln that Case," 1 informed him, the highest form of track athletics ® u ght to be the St. Vitus dance." .Down near the end of the second ®ule of stables we came to a deserted of stalls where one horse stood •looking sleepily out. "Ah, now there's a horse," I said. There is a happy horse." twitched eyelid at us. It Gobbled its upper lip. , ~ . , A healthy horse," I declared. A oorso without a care in the world. » I wlffi stepped up and spoke tenderly * and caressed its 6iJky nose.

" That's Cleopatra," said the stranger, in a moving voice. " One of the grandest horses running to-day." " Hello, baby," said Jim, running liis hand up the horse's flat face bone and slapping its neck. . The horse opened one eye and looked sleepily at Jim. " If" this horse is running to-day, Jim," I said, " bet on him." The horse, with a heavy sigh, woke tip and lifted its head and tenderly nibbled Jim's arm. Its eyes were dark and gentle. Its expression was benign. It stretched out its neck and rested its long chin 011 Jim's shoulder. " It likes us," 1 cried. And while Jim and 1 admired the great creature with the heavy chin it closed its eyes and kept shifting its chin from Jim's shoulder to mine and back again, and continued to emit large lazy sighs. " I love the smell of stables," said Jim, stroking the horse's neck and scratching its ear. " I sometimes think I might have been a great horseman. I get queer feelings when I am around racing stables, as if I had been on earth before. As if something were trying to call me, to tell me, to waken me." ~ t i "I kind of like it myself, I admitted, taking 4 "he other side of the horse's neck. "The laziness. Ihe colour. The interesting people." "If we ever make any money, said Jim, dreamily stroking the horse's nose," there is nothing I'd like bettor than owning a little „ string of racehorses." , , . , . , , " I could wear the kind of clothes I like, then," I agreed. " The Frise-Clark stables," said Jim. "I would wear a yellow vest," I 8a " The King's Plate," said Jim, "Mr. Prise and Mr. Clark, from left to right, receiving the King's Plate from His Excellency." I heard footsteps and turned to behold an interesting looking gentleman smiling cheerfully at us. He was tall and had bushy black eyebrows. On his chest dangled a pair of binoculars. He was smoking a big cigar. "Like her?" he asked proudly. "It's a her, is it?" I said. " That's Cleopatra," said the stranger, in a moving voice. " One of the grandest horses running to-day." " Are you connected with this stable?" asked Jim politely. " Connected with it?" the stranger, " I'm the owner of it." Jim and I showed we were duly honoured. We praised Cleopatra. " Could you take her out and let us have a look at asked Jim. " Excuse me, boys," said the owner. " I never break routine. Cleopatra is resting. She did a grand workout this morning. She's just cooled out. 1 would rather not disturb her. Sues got a race this afternoon. And—she s going to win." He said this in a whisper and looked around carefully as he said it. . "It must be great," said Jim, stroking Cleopatra's cheek, " to be an owner. But I suppose you have your worries." . .. , "It ain't the worries, said the owner, confidentially. It's the lone responsibility that gets me. I got six horses. I've owned hundreds, .but J got it down to six of the best. Six of the best anywhere from Tia Juana to Montreal. But sometimes I wonder what would happen if anything ever happened to me." . lie removed the cigar from his mouth and coughed deeply and sepulchral l.y. ~ , 11 " You should get some partners, said Jim.

" Never " said the owner, firmly. " Never. I've had partners in my time. But they're ruin, that's what they are. Sheer ruin. Never no more partners for me, brother." " Thev gypped you? asked Jim. " Gyp isn't tho word," said the owner sadly. " Not only can t you trust them, but they are always trying to run the stable. I bet you Cleopatra there would be fit for the honevard if 1 ever had partners. \ou don t find men with a love of horses every dav. No, nor every year.' _ '" Whv," asked Jim, stepping on my foot quietly, " don't you take on some ordinary business men as partners t J don't mean professional horsemen, but sportsmen?" " Ah," sighed tho tall man, sadly, " but how often do you meet spoitsmen?" ~ .. , T " They're some, said Jim. JNow vou take us. We're ordinary business men. But we love horses. \\ e love the sport of racing. We were just saving a moment ago, as we chatted hero with Cleopatra, that if we ever got any money, we'd love to own a Tittle string of racehorses, _to make money, you understand. But just to have something to think about. A hobby. Something we could quit work and go out into the country to see. Imagine us having a horse like Cleopatra hero we could come and seo everv day or so. See her training. See her "getting into shape. And imagine the thrill of being 011 tho lawn when she races?" " You must be sportsmen," said tho owner sincerely. " You've got it. I wish I could find a couple of gents like you to come into the game with me. Not noscv. Not trying to tell me how to train horses. But just to share with me the interest and joy and thrill of it all. Ahhhhhl" " I wish we had the money," I said devoutly, for the gentleman was exactly the kind I would .ike to stand Oil the lawn with, and mo in a grey derby hat. "Money," he laughed bitterly. " Money. It isn't money you need. It's the heart. The right spirit. The sporting blood." " Money counts," I pointed out. " Listen,'" said the owner. " I would bo glad to sell a half interest in that beautiful mare there. Cleopatra, one of the finest horses running to-day for one grand. One grand! Can you imagine?" "A thousand," Jim explained to me. " One grand is a thousand dollars." " That's it," I said dismally. " Where would we ever get a thousand dollars?" The owner looked at us for a long moment with an expression of mingled tenderness and contempt. Suddenly ho laughed and snapped his fingers at us. " Boys," he said, half bitterly. " I've been a fool before and I suppose I will be again. But I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll give you a half interest in Cleopatra for one grand. I'll do more than that. I'll take whatever cash you've got in your jeans right now —right now—whether it be a hundred dollars or fifty dollars —I'll take it as the down payment. And . . . . listen .... and .... you can pay the balance of the grand out of her winnings!" "But," I gasped, "you don't even know our names." " I know a lot of guy's names," said the owner grimly. He held out his hand, cupped. 1 had only 3 dollars 65 centc. All my life, when opportunity knocked at my door, I have always had about 3.65. JiVn had seven dollars in ones. " Ten-sixty-five," said tho owner. "Good enough. It seals tho deal." Ho pocketed the money. Ho stood looking at us fondly. " Boys," he said, " I have a feeling you are going to bring me luck." " This morning," said Jim to me, " you said there was no such thing as luck." " When certain of my relatives and friends hear of this," I chuckled, hardly grasping the splendour of the situation. 1 reached up and patted Cleopatra's nose. Jim seized her affectionately and with a proprietorial air by the neck. She sighed heavily. Along the long aisle of stables a man in a wide hat was walking slowly. The owner said sharply: " Well, boys, take care of her. I've got a busy morning. See you later." And he walked briskly around the corner. The' man in tho broad hat strode toward us, head forward, his eyes searching us keenly. " What do you want?" he asked in a bass voice. " Where?" I asked. " How?" asked Jim. " I say, what do you want?" repeated tiie man in tho wide hat. " I don't like birds hanging around my horses." " We're not around your horses, I said. " This is our horse." Jiinmie took a few fast steps to the corner of the stable and looked in all directions. "Come on," said Jim to me. lies gone but maybe Ave can catch him." "Who?" 1 asked. "What are you talking about? This is half our horse." " Get going palooka," said the man with tho buss voice. " And don't let me see you hanging round my stables any time, anywhere." He sort of tightened himself up as if ho were going to either kick or punch. I stepped after Jimmie. As wo hurried out past tho stables, to look for the man with our 10 dol? lars 60 cents, we heard Cleopatra whinny loudly. . . , " That's the horse laugh," explained Jimmie.