The verdict, as I write, has not yet been pronounced upon the risen sun of to-day, Eurythmic. That he is a very good horse indeed, there can be little doubt. That he is a really great one is not yet quite certain. The best of judges point out that Eurythmic has been tremendously lucky; that he has never met anything which can be called great, with the exception of Poitrel, who undoubtedly was a very excellent stayer indeed. At a mile, and, perhaps, at a mile and a half, Eurythmic was superior to game little Poitrel, but we only once saw them meet over a distance of ground, and that was in the Melbourne Cup. Here, giving ten pounds, Poitrel won cleverly, with Eurythmic a good fourth. At weight-for-age, Poitrel would have been giving his rival only six pounds. So that it certainly looks as though the Poitrels “had it on the voices.” But there is just a lingering feeling in the mind that Eurythmic had not yet quite come to his own on that fine spring day when the Cup was decided, and his subsequent form showed very distinct improvement. We shall see. But the name of Poitrel is assuredly one of those “that glow from yonder brass.” Chapter XIV. Queens of the Turf. Of course, there have been infinitely fewer great mares on the turf than there have been famous and great horses. And this is peculiarly noticeable in Australia, for what reason I am unable to say. Thus, since the St. Leger was first instituted in this country until to-day, a mare has only won the race six times. In England, on the other hand, during the same span, a mare has been hailed the winner on fourteen occasions. Perhaps it is for this reason that, when a mare does stamp herself as the best of the year, and perhaps of her generation, she catches the affection of the public even more firmly than does some great horse hero of the course. It may be, too, that there is more sympathy felt by everyone for the weaker vessel, and that naturally, for the crowd, who are composed more of men than of women, it is easier to love anything female as opposed to male. Whatever may be the cause, there it is, anyhow. If you let your mind run back during the last sixty years or so to the racing in the Old Country, the love manifested by the mob for Regalia, Achievement, Caller Ou, Formosa, Hannah, Apology, La Fleche, Sceptre and Pretty Polly was far more firm and enthusiastic than for all the Ormondes, Isonomys, Donovans, Robert the Devils and Persimmons, no matter what their achievements have been. And when it has come to a contest between a colt and a filly in a classic race, the hearts of the people have always seemed to go out to the mare. One can never forget that year, perhaps the most sensational in the history of the turf, when Hermit won the Derby. Whilst this great colt was making romance and story, there was a beautiful mare, Achievement, who was gripping the hearts of everyone interested in the sport of horse racing.