“MINE AND ANOTHER.”

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Volume VIII, Issue 412, 16 June 1898, Page 14

“MINE AND ANOTHER.”

/’/.-/ .; What the tune was that I hummed when stepping out proudly for the stables I do not now (•member; very likely it was my only bit of the .‘‘ Last Rose,” but the point is not important. At |Ss&’ iny rate, I must have been doing it rather well, for, at the stable gates, my friend the Gentleman Rider, who was sending some horses home, raised a warning finger. “In the lower key, if you please,” he said. “ Don’t get your tongue over the bit, nor look as if youwei*e drawing your last breath in one shrill gasp. You ought to do all your singing before you get up, and the later you rise the better.” “Why, what’s the matter now, my boy ? ” I said, undismayed by bis gross personalties. « Your unkindness to me is almost more than I Jean bear. I have never professed to be Sims Reeves at sst 71b on his own course, and with all his hair on. I daresay if you tried to sing the bookmakers would want to lay any odds, against ' you after the first attempt to lift up your wretched voice.” He did not reply to these remarks, and would have been foolish if he had dons so. They were not intended to be taken seriously or to achieve any other effect that that of indicating to my friend that if he persisted in prodding at me facetiously, or with a view to damage, I was capable of a .feeling cross counter. Impressed, for anyI thing It know,i by the nobility of my character, he

— — uuw me pigskin. You ocemed to be riding every horse in the race and to win on at least two.” “ Only on mine and another,” he said, shifting his gaze from my brow to my feet, where there was more to look at. “ I was only riding mine and another.” He smiled, and with an effort looked up again. “ But, of course, I kept my eye on the rest, and had, in fact, quite enough to do.”

“ What were you doing it for ?” I enquired anxiously ; “ for a purse of gold or to show what you can do for honor and glory ? People will not drink to you only with their eyes after this.” “ It’s all right, I see,” answered the Gentleman with an air of resignation ; “if I don’t tell you the story you will make up another one far worse, and my actions were perfectly blameless. It is a wonder how we can behave ourselves as well as we do. In the last race there were two horses running from our stable—one, the favorite, was ridden, as you are aware, by his owner, a young gentleman of wealth who does not ride very well. If he had another leg and knew where to put it —you know.” “ I know. It’s the old story of the toff who couldn’t ride for toffee.” Here I felt impelled to smile in a jsuperior way, showjvhat a

e horse. ;ain»t his orse that beautiful to steady - - ftuuu enough to tnis selling steeplechase to-day. So I-put him up in orddr to get a better price, and also to give him the gratification of riding a winner. It wi’.l be something for him to talk about'for the remainder of his life.” “But why start two horses for so small a prize ? Why risk so much to get so little ?” I asked with rapidity. “ Your perception is not keen,” continued the Gentleman Rider. “ This was a selling race, and I wanted to get second to retain the winner

cheaply, or secure a substantial share of the surplus. Besides, the young gentleman needed looking after all the way round. He becomes hysterical when the flag falls, and seems to forget which fence comes next and where it is. He does not sit back with perfect accuracy when landing over ,the ditch, and it was* my mission to place him in the saddle again when he left it to cuddle his horse’s ears. “So I decided to accompany him on this circular tour and k> ep him iu his place. My own money was at stake, you must remember, and I had several reasons for wishing to win it. When he found ihat 1 was going with him he was immensely pleased, knowing his unfortunate proclivity to rise higher than his mount and descend first. He promised to do what I told him, and not to shriek until the winning-post was passed.

possible. I was afraid that |he would wear him* self out with his exertions and drop off beford the two miles were completed. He put his hands down, closed his mouth in response to my advice r and said that he would rather die than lose. Ha ' had plenty of pluck, but could not always find it ■ unless a friend was near to help him. ' “ We had a slight splutter at the first ditch. He would lean forward, and as you know”—here// the Gentleman Rider glanced at me appreciatively,/ and I curtseyed with spirit—“ it is necessary sit back, and not get overbalanced -in front with ' your nose too far forward at the ditch. He waa / too late in reversing his position when I called to '</ him, and the horse nearly jumped him off— hie’-//; was on its neck, one iron was gone, and both reinson the off-side, and a pretty sc amble I had to put him right and collect his apparatus for hum / * You really must sit back,’ 1 said 1 in an agonised' •* voice, *or we shall never get round; and how are we to settle on Monday ?’ ’ ‘ “ ‘ I will—l will be good,” he replied, with tears in his eyes ; ‘ you don’t know how hard I’m trying, and 1 wish to the Lord I was strapped on. But you won’t leave me, will you ?’ ‘Never,’ 1/ answered, ‘until we reach a place of safety..'/ But hold on behind next time and keen yourself '■;/ down.’ “Thus we struggled along, generallyin tro.ubleir and I was obliged to put my companion ini lii* place more than once. I had made the pace pretty hot, for mne of them could stajr, /and approaching the last fence I saw that our opponeMa ; were beaten. Landing safely over it I rodeolaw up alongside my friend,

_ GEIS ERAL-.P.RINT-ERB,,. / u .--gg| VULCAN ' LANE, AUCh|OM