MY MOTHER-IN-LAW'S ADVICE.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1352, 27 January 1898, Page 8

MY MOTHER-IN-LAW'S ADVICE.

A TALE OF THE WELLINGTON CUP. 1 [By " Sentinel."] (Author of "i Frustrated Swindle," " Not so Black as Painted," $c.J "When I married I promised to cut racing and the fascinations of the turf; not that I vt as a plunger or kept a large string in work. 1 neither betted* largely nor. owned many horses* 'Tis true I used to own and race a few hack 3, including the flier Cracker, by Fireworks, a horse that paid me handsomely, but when I met Athalie Carter, a sweet little maiden who combined all the better characteristics of womanhood and several more that I thought hadn't been discovered till I. saw -her.; and at was for Athalie alone I decided to retire from the •turf. : - '.,; , ■ Athalie used to teach in a Sunday school, and on the eventful day we left the church with' the parson's blessing, I felt happier than a man with twenty tickets on a £SO dividend. Twoy9arffpaißsed ! away. I had ' settled down,' and always listened with as much gravity as I could muster to my wife's j denunciations of the turf and its followers. She, the demure little angel who couldn't break a sparrow's leg with a big stick before marriage, had strongly developed into a woman, and one with a mind. Man (this one, at least) couldn't carry weight when it came to an argument with Mrs John Barr, always being badly beaten before the journey in the catch' weight dispute had fairly commenced. Two solid years away from the alluring tinkle of the tote-bell! Two years having to rely on the newspapers for my information of the meetings) reading' ftbont ding-dong finishes, races won by a bare nose, or the favourite beaten on the post, with about the same degree of excitement as a miner reads about a new rush, or a woman about a wedding.

I bad kept my promise to Athalie not to go to meetings, but bad not been so exact as rflgs|Kdsj' |»(a. i iho irQsniltß. of races, many a pound, of mine being flashed across the wires to secretaries of distant meeting, few dividends ever coming back. -

My luck was something, awful. If I put a couple; of pounds on the biggest; certainty in the world the animal would get beaten, or would win and i/here would be a sustained protest. Either of these things would happen, or the hor3e backed would be 'dead* in that particular race, and would win the next time of trying and this time I would not be an investor.

One day I went into figures, finding myself-in low water. The only way to get back past losses was to buy a horse and—letrench.

As they say poverty begins at home, so I reasoned that retrenchment should, and commenced in the domestic circle. We lived a short distance out of town, and when I broke the news to my wife that ,'owing to financial losses over which I had no control' I was forced to sell the little property, (it was already heavily mortgaged) disoharge the servants, and rent & small cottage in town, the poor little woman's pride was touched. I put the worst possible light on affairs, gwore I'd be before the Assignee within ■ix months, and that we'd have to live on the most economical scale to pull through. She broke down and cried for half an hour. Then she rose from the ohair into which she had dropped and logically jooked at the dismal picture I had drawn

by saying, * Well; Jack, We lniist live within our means ; I'll help you all I can, but really and truly I thought you were richer than you are, or I'm not sure if I should have married you. And so we took up our quarters in the small cottage, and Athalie tried her hand at housekeeping. I had had a longing eye for a slashing cut of a horse —a four-year-old by Foulshot, and as the animal was undoubtedly fast and had never raced, I decided to buy him at the figure asked—Jg3o. Dan Drake, the trainer who used to prepare my horses before marriage, undertook the task of putting my new purchase through his facings, agreeing to run the hcrse in his name, and swearing secrecy as to the identity of the real owner.-

Under Dan's painstaking attention The Poacher, for thia was the name I had fixed upon, soon underwent a considerable improvement. One day Dan came to the office and gleefully told me that The Poacher was a second Carbine, and at level weights had completely buried the Natator filly, Crest of the Wave, over a mile aud a half. 'He finished pulling like a dentist,' said Dan, ' and didn't blow hard enough to take a Chinaman's oath.'

This was good news indeed. During the previous season Crest of the Wave was the smartest hack on the coast over any distance from six furlongs to a mile and three-quarters, and if The Poacher could beat her—well he wasn't half a bad 'un.

' I went home to dinner- that day in a happier frame of mind than I'd been for some time.

My young wife was overjoyed at my hilarity, and, enquiring the cause, was informed ' that business was on the mend.' Forgetful for the moment I even went as far as to swallow three of the little leaden tartlets Mrs B. used to make, not reckoning on the evil consequences that must necessarily follow, and in my indiscretion promised to attend a prayer meeting, to take place that evenihg, presided over by one Sister Susan Wegg—all this on the strength of The Poacher's gaallop. When leaving for business, my wife, with one of those tender looks woman can command when she wishes to disburse a superfluous lecture, informed me that since my passion for the turf had departed, I was indeed a model man!

My little business was not paying, owing to the depressed times, and something must turn up trumps to square matters, or I would indeed realise the worst. All my gloomy predictions were in a fair way of being realised. But something would, aye, and had come, for wasn't The Poacher to the rescue ?

One day Dan came in and said The Poacher was fit enough, to win a New Zealand Cup, adding that none except himself knew how soon the horse was. • I've got the touts and trainers on toast: they think he's not class enough to win at an unregistered meeting,' said Dan with a merry twinkle in his eye. And then I laid my position before the honest trainer, for Dan wa3 honest —to me at least—telling him to enter the horse for some small races and win them jif he could, but I must have money.

Dan looked at me in amazement. • I didn't think things were as cronk as that,' jhe said, 'and it would:be a pity if we showed the horse's strength straight away ;when he is such a good 'un. I've got money by me, and I'll see you-through.' I thanked Dan heartily, .and fell in with tho scheme be unfolded.

The week following the horse was entered for a Maiden Plate, Dan knowing that a very inferior lot were to be'engaged in the race. ' I could run it on foot and then win,' said Dan, ' and we'll scoop all the money out of the machine. The race was run, The Poacher managing to squeeze home in funeral time a' bare half length in front of the thirdrate field, paying the good dividend of £ll, Dan swearing he could have won by half she length of the straight had he wished it.

The win gave me what I greatly required—spare cash, but the haul was not large enough to go far towards paying off my creditors. Our next move was to fly at high game.

We entered the horse for the Wellington Cup, and if The Poacher could only pull this off I'd be out of debt, and then I'd consider whether I continued racing or not. s

Just at this time my mother-in law came to reside with her " dear daughter for a few days/ the said days having since gone inio years. She is a widow, and has a small bush property in the Wairarapa, over which we have expecta* tiona. She is a strong advocate of ex-

I tending mission work among the Hindoos, and speaks largely and long on the benefits of the Female Franchise. If the Hindoos didn't get her money Athalie would, but up to the present it was an undecided question who was to have the handling of the pld lady's cash after she ' passed the box,' as Dan put it. We had—or rather I had—to play my cards very carefully, or it was good-bje to the old lady's dividend. She didn't know I owned a racehorse.

The nominations for the Wellington Cup came out in due course, and The Poacher's name was included. There were twenty horses entered, and Dan declared that with the difference there would be in the weights the unheard-of Poacher was as good as anything else in the race.

My horse was bowling along at a great rate in' his work, and Dan swore that he improved with every gallop. One day—l won't" forget it in a hurry either—going home rather earlier than usual, something struck me there was danger ahead as I opened the gate, but I did not anticipate it would be so hot as it was.

My wife and my mother-in-law were waiting for me in the passage. The lastnamed Opened fire. « ■ 'You inhuman monster —you daylight robber—you ruthless destroyer of this angel's happiness I' she cried, waving her hand, suggestive of the leading lady in an amateur dramatic show, in the direction of her daughter.

' What on earth is the matter ?' I gasped. And then Athalie sobbed ' You've got a racehorse,' looking at me as if I'd got the smallpox. Of course I denied it point blank, said that nothing in the world would tempt me to own a racehorse again, &c, just on purpose to euchre the Hindoos. What was my surprise to see my wife unfold a document made between John Barr, hay and corn dealer, and Daniel Drake, traihor, concerning a certain horse named The Poacher I

When I saw that denial was hopeless, I demanded to know the right anyone had to open my desk and examine my private papers. My wife did not answer, but my mother-in-law did. As near as I «3an remember this is something like what she said:— 'John Barr, your wife has every right in the world to know your affairs. You have proved yourself to be, a treacherous man. You, for whom my one pet lamb has toiled and lived in abject poverty so that you could pursue your low gambling calling; you belong to a class of cutthroats, robbers of widows and orphans —spielers is the term-—who play " two up " with pennies, who stake their all on ■" three-card-monteY' who put their last shilling on the game you know as " under and over." and would sell their soul for a totalisator ticket. Ob, you vile deceiver; I know all about you sportsmen, the superintendent of the Sunday School explained , all the little tricks to me—he knows. And this animal you call The Poacher is well-named —he steals in and robs the hearth and home of my daughter of all its comforts. I say you must take your mother-in-law's advice and sell the | abominable horse, or my daughter and j myself leave this house, and not a penny lot my money will you touch.' I tried to reason with the old lady, (telling her that the horse was as fast as j Carbine, but it was no use. If The Poacher could have distanced Eclipse it wi'Utu have b<. a'i (.lie Mine, so I haci to in, surrendering like a lamb. Next day the hotse was advertised, and a week later was purchased by Mr Smith for £31 —' given away 'so the auctioneer said.

As the horse was doing so well in Drake's hands, Mr Smith deckled to let him train The Poacher for the cup. When the weights for the race appeared The Poacher occupied post of honour at the far end, being allotted 6sfc 71b. Just after the weights came out I read in the sporting column of the local paper that The Poacher had that morning accomplished one of the best gallops ever seen on the tracks, and that the horse should have a good chance for the Wellington Oup. I had half expected to see such a paragraph for some time past, and was sorry for Dan's sake that the horse's form had leaked out.

Dan came into town in the evening and had a long talk with me. Next day I read that The Poacher had broken down badly, and would not be seen out for some time.

My mother-in-law saw this piece of information, and as usual dealt out a chapter or two on the evils of horse

racing, and I agreed with her on every point. Acceptances came out, and a good many had wondered why the broken-down Poacher had paid up, but there his name was sure enough. Just at this time Dan got a telegram to attend his sister-in-law's funeral, and left hurriedly.

Two days before the Cup Meeting three of my largest creditors threatened proceedings within a week if I did not square up. I had realised on everything, and as there was nothing coming in except bills, I foresaw a rather interesting time when up for my public examination. I begged for an extension of time, but the sons of Israel were adamant. In a week the shutters were to go up. Cup day arrived, and I tried to feel as unconcerned as possible. If I only could have been in Wellington.

A friend of my mother-io--law's dropped in in the morning to tell me that Drake was a scoundrel, saying it was all a hoax about his being called away to a burial, and that he had been seen exercising a horse very much like The Poacher at Palmerston.

The news did not seem to interest me quite as much as my scandal-loving informant thought it would. ' I was off racing—dead-off racing and all its associations,' was all I said, and he left, apparently sorry for having volunteered the information.

I had arranged with a friend at Wellington to send me the result of the race as soon as the horses were past the post, and though I tried hard to keep my mind on the columns of figures before me, I saw a white jacket and yellow sash flash across the ledger more than once.

The time for the race arrived— I was feverish then, and a few minutes later I received the telegram, and this is what I read : Surprise, 1; The Poacher, 2 ; Sweetheart, 3.

The shutters are up! I sat down and wrote to my wife, saying that I was off to Sydney, being hopelessly ruined. Calling the errand boy I despatched him with the note with the injunction to give it into Mrs Barr's hands, and then began hurried preparations for my departure, A knock at the office door. It wfl the telegraph boy. 'Two shillings to pay,' he said abruptly. «D n the wire—l won't take it.' He turned to go away. I called him back, got the telegram, and this is what it contained :

' Poacher second to Surprise ; ■ protest against winner for cross sustained ; dividend £2B'—Drake.

' What about that boy ? Bushing out I met him in the doorway. Too late 1 •Please, sir, Mrs Barr and her mother have gone to a Women's Convention meeting, and I had to bring the letter back/

Gripping the la,d/9 baud J nearly

wrenched it off* and ■•• bless you, my boyi here's a sovereign,' was all that I could say.

The news of The Poacher's win soon spread, and a few of > us. met to drink to the success of the local-trainer of the Cup winner. On returning home, I met my wife at the door. She was reading the evening paper. 'Oh Jack,' she said, ' wasn't it a pity my mother made you sell that horse. We would have been out of debt how.' And then she commenced to cry, I deplored the sale very much, too, and my mother-in-law regarded her advice as being nasty and unwise, and our tea that January evening was a most melancholy meal. Just as we rose from the table th© door-knob rattled, and my wife answered the summons. 'A telegram for you, Jack,' she said, and this is what it contained :-*- ' Will you take £s*oo for The Poacher V —Drake. 'Call the boy back/ I said, and I wrote one word—'Yes/ And then I showed the wire to my wife. 'There must be some mistake,' she said, «Mr Smith owns the horse—but who is Mr Smith ?* *Mr Smith, I answered, ' is Mrs John Barr's husband, and as we've made £2500 we've good cause to be glad that I did not take My Mother-in-law's Advice.