The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1915-03-21
SUN" EACH SUNDAY, WHICH
REPRESENT HIS EARLIER STYLE

a pagan bids shall enlightened Chris
tians hang back? Ten! Going, GO
ing. gone!" You want ha-af, sar?"
said the battered native trainer to
Hordene. NO. thanks-not a bit of
her for me-"
The All Horse Sweep was run and
won by Thurinda by about a street
and three-quarters. to be very accu-
rate, amid derisive cheers. which Hor-
dene, who flattered himself that III
knew something about riding. could
not understand. On pulling up he
looked over his shoulder and saw that
the second horse was only just pass
ing the box. Now. how did I make
such n fool OF MYSELF" he said as he
returned to weigh out. His friends
gathered round him and asked ten
derby whether this was the first time
that he had got up and whether it was
absolutely necessary that the winning
horse should be ridden out when the
field was hopelessly pumped, Il quar-
ter of a mile behind, SC. I'll
thought River of Years was pressing
me-" explained Hordene. River of
Years was wallowing, absolutely wal
lowing" said q man, before you
turned into the straight. You rode
like a-hang it-like a militia sub
altern!"
The shayid spring meeting broke up
and the sportsmen turned their steps
toward the next c~arcass-the Ghoriah
spring. With them went Thurinda's
owner, the happy possessor Of an al
most perfect animal. shes as easy
as a Pullman car and about twice as
fast" he was wont to say in moments
Of confidence to his intimates. For
all her bulk, she's as handy as a polo
pony a child might ride her. and when
she's at the post she's as cute-she's
As cute as the bally starter himself"
Many times had Hordene said this. til
at last n unsympathetic friend an
severed with: when a man bukhs
too much about his wife or his horse
it's a sure sign he's trying to make
himself like 'em. I mistrust your
Thurinda. She's too good, or else"
q else what" you're trying To
believe you like her" Like her. !
love her. trust that darling as I'm
shot If ia trust you. I'd hack her
for tuppence." Hack away. then. /
don't want to hurt your feelings.
on the first day Of the Ghoriah meet
ing Thurinda was hopelessly ridden
out by a native Jockey, to whose care
Hordene had at the last
been compelled to Confide her. You
forsaken idiot" said he. what made
you begin riding as soon as YOU were
clear? She had everything safe IL
tYAN,fl 4,H,, 80. -
her out before the home turn. YOU
hog" What could ! do?" said the
jockey sullenly. Il was pressed by
another horse" Whose other horse?
There were twenty yards of daylight
between You and the ruck. If you'd
kept her there even then 'twouldn't
ha' mattered. But you rode her out
you rode her OUT" There was an
oth'r horse and he pressed me t. the
end, and when | looked round he was
no longer there" Let us, in charity.
draw a veil over Hori.ne's language
at this point. Goodness knows
whether she'll be 1T to pull out again
for thu last event. Oh you and
your other horses. ! wish I'd broken
your neck before letting you get up"
Thurinda was done to a turn. and II
seemed a cruelty to ask her to run
again in the last race Of the day. Hor-
dene rode this time and was careful to
keep the mare within herself at the
outset. once more Thurinda left her
field-with n exceptional gray horse
that hung upon her TANKS and could
not be aiken off. The mare was done
and refused to answer the call upon
her. She tried hopelessly in the
straight and was caught and passed by
her old enemy, River Of Ycars-the
chestnut Of Kurnaul. "You rode we'll
like n native, Hordene," was the un-