"Well, sir," began he, "it is about four months since I brought up to Dublin from Galway a little chesnut mare, with cropped ears and a short tail, square-jointed, and rather low--just what you'd call a smart hack for going to cover with--a lively thing on the road with a light weight. Nobody ever suspected that she was a clean bred thing--own sister to Jenny, that won the Corinthians, and ran second to Giles for the Riddlesworth--but so she was, and a better bred mare never leaped the pound in Ballinasloe. Well, I brought her to Dublin, and used to ride her out two or three times a week, making little matches sometimes to trot--and, for a thorough bred, she was a clipper at trotting--to trot a mile or so on the grass--another day to gallop the length of the nine acres opposite the Lodge--and then sometimes, back her for a ten pound note, to jump the biggest furze bush that could be found--all or which she could do with ease, nobody thinking, all the while, that the cock-tailed pony was out of Scroggins, by a 'Lamplighter mare.' As every fellow that was beat to-day was sure to come back to-morrow, with something better, either of his own or a friend's, I had matches booked for every day in the week--for I always made my little boy that rode, win by half a neck, or a nostril, and so we kept on day after day pocketing from ten to thirty pounds or thereabouts. "It was mighty pleasant while it lasted, for besides winning the money, I had my own fun laughing at the spoonies that never could book my bets fast enough. Young infantry officers and the junior bar--they were for the most part mighty nice to look at, but very raw about racing. How long I might have gone on in this way I cannot say; but one morning I fell in with a fat, elderly gentleman, in shorts and gaiters, mounted on a dun cob pony, that was very fidgety and hot tempered, and appeared to give the rider a great deal of uneasiness. "'He's a spicy hack you're on, sir,' said I, 'and has a go in him, I'll be bound.' "'I rayther think he has,' said the old gentleman, half testily. "'And can trot a bit, too.' "'Twelve Irish miles in fifty minutes, with my weight.' Here he looked down at a paunch like a sugar hosghead. "'Maybe he's not bad across a country,' said I, rather to humour the old fellow, who, I saw, was proud of his poney. "'I'd like to see his match, that's all.' Here he gave a rather contemptuous glance at my hack.