will not give in—if she can't jump a fence she'll bite her way through. I'm sure if I've been off at every fence, I've been under them and through them as well. Of course, I'm all for perseverance, but that sort of thing does delay in a race. And we've been in and out of Becher's Brook like a couple of performing seals all the afternoon. Of course, I'm a gentleman jockey and I'm a little more sensitive than the rest, but when we crawled out of the Brook for the sixth time and the four-thirty was going over, the verbal insults of the jockeys and the dumb insolence of the horses was very hard to bear . . . but I'm wrapped up in racing—after all, it is the sport of kings and I have royal blood in my veins. Oh yes, my Aunt Amelia on the Scottish side of the family is directly descended from Flora Macdonald, and the Royal College of Heraldry told her that if only the young Pretender had been a little older and a little more genuine, she would have been moving in very exalted circles. As it is, she's the first lady in Holloway. Of course, Maudie's not so good over the sticks, but she's very good in a flat race. Take my flat, for instance; many is the time she and I have given the landlady a couple of lengths and beaten her to the County Court by a short head. Last year I entered her for the Derby. I don't say that we were winning, but we were well behind . . . she took Tattenham Corner at speed and went right over   the banking. Got her fetlocks caught up in a tree and we had the greatest difficulty in getting her freed. Of course, Maudie carried a lot of money in the Grand National. I was speaking to Sir Charles in the Silver Ring and he told me he'd backed her pretty heavily, but he was rather afraid that one of the threepenny bits had got a hole in it. But I told him not to worry, because I knew whom he dealt with, and they never worried about last-minute mistakes like that. A friend of mine used to deal with the same firm. He used a code—orange to win, apple win or a place. But he was very forgetful, and one day he telegraphed " Raspberry," but they understood and backed the horse both ways. Of course, I'm only in favour of racing—not in favour of betting, because betting is the pastime of idle people, and I once knew a man who was a great better and he was so idle that he thought manual labour was a Spanish grandee, but he would bet, so I let him. Well, now, I'm afraid I must dash off now, because to tell you the truth, I've got to fix up about the sale of Maudie— you see, I was approached by a big shirt-making firm whose directors wish to buy Maudie for stud purposes. So I'll dash off—good night, it has been so nice . . . thank you . . .

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