cab and finally, much against his will, he had to call a policeman. The policeman was a very decent young chap and said that he was only too glad for Maudie to train in the Tottenham Court Road, but that she really must stop this leaping and jumping over the traffic as it was so disorganizing . . . and I couldn't say nay. . . . While I spoke to him, Maudie dashed off and sat down in a horse-trough. She thought it was Becher's Brook, and we had the greatest difficulty in persuading her to come out. And then on the day before the Derby she mistook a pillar-box at the end of Tottenham Court Road for the finishing-post and dashed at it and caught her forefeet in the opening. Of course, it was so confusing for me, because we had to send for the fire brigade, and crowds of people gathered round, and after all I had been trying to keep Maudie a dark horse and rather a secret from the Turf. But even the fire brigade couldn't release her, and finally a postman came along and suggested that we put a stamp on her and let her go home by herself. It was really the only thing to do. Then on the morning of the Derby, my brother-in-law and I decided that if we got her down to Epsom by an early milk train it would give her plenty of time to practice. And I thought I could get her to Waterloo by the Underground and avoid the traffic . . . but I had great difficulty on the escalator—she got on at such an angle   and the blood all ran to her head and she got very shaky— then when she got off the escalator a Tube official looked at her and said to me, " Have you got a ticket for,that dog thing ? " Of course, Maudie was furious and I tried to warn him, but it was no good ; as soon as his head was turned she bit his ear off as clean as a whistle. After that we had to hurry rather, and when I got to Waterloo I found that I couldn't get her into the milk-van as they were afraid she might turn the milk sour. And so I persuaded her to come into a third-class carriage with me. She was very good and curled up on the seat . . . because she was quite done up, and everything would have been all right if only a sailor hadn't got into the carriage. He was one of the original Epsom Salts returning home on furlough. He started smoking . . . and if there's one thing that's anathema to Maudie when she's training, it's tobacco. . . . She snatched his cigarette and flung it out of the window. . . . He was awfully nasty about it all the way to Epsom . . . but then, when I got to paddock, my heart ran cold . . . because the first horse I saw was Young Lover, and between you and me it was he who had caused all the trouble with Maudie at the shirt-maker's. Oh yes, he treated her very shabbily. She just looked at him, sat down and buried her face in her hoofs. The steward was awfully kind and offered her some sal volatile. I did my best to warn him, but it
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