Right Royal | Page 6

devil, and some, composure,

As they trod their way to the great enclosure.
When the clock struck three and the men weighed out,
Charles
Cothill shook, though his heart was stout.
The thought of his bets, so
gaily laid,
Seemed a stone the more when he sat and weighed.
As he swung in the scales and nursed his saddle,
It seemed to him
that his brains would addle;
For now that the plunger reached the
brink,
The risk was more than he liked to think.

In ten more minutes his future life,
His hopes of home with his
chosen wife,
Would all depend on a doubtful horse
In a crowded
field over Compton Course.
He had backed Right Royal for all he owned.
At thought of his want
of sense he groaned.
"All for a dream of the night," he thought.
He
was right for weight at eleven naught.
Then Em's sweet face rose up in his brain,
He cursed his will that had
dealt her pain:
To hurt sweet Emmy and lose her love
Was
madman's folly by all above.
He saw too well as he crossed the yard

That his madman's plunge had borne her hard.
"To wring sweet Em
like her drunken father,
I'd fall at the Pitch and end it rather.
Oh I hope, hope, hope, that her
golden heart
Will give me a word before I start.
If I thought our
love should have come to wreck,
I'd pull Right Royal and break my
neck,
And Monkery's shoe might kick my brains out
That my own
heart's blood might wash my stains out.
But even if Emmy, my sweet, forgive,
I'm a ruined man, so I need not
live,
For I've backed my horse with my all, by Heaven,
To be first
in a field of thirty-seven,
And good as he is, the dream's a lie."
He saw no hope, but to fall and die.
As he left the room for the Saddling Paddock
He looked as white as
the flesh of haddock.
But Love, all seeing, though painted blind,

Makes wisdom live in a woman's mind:
His love knew well from her
own heart's bleeding
The word of help that her man was needing;

And there she stood with her eyes most bright,
Ready to cheer her
heart's delight.
She said, "My darling, I feel so proud
To see you followed by all the
crowd;
And I shall be proud as I see you win.

Right Royal, Soyland and Peterkin
Are the three I pick, first, second,
third.
And oh, now listen to what I heard.
Just now in the park Sir
Norman Cooking
Said, 'Harding, how well Right Royal's looking.

They've brought him on in the ring, they say.'
John said, 'Sir Norman,
to-day's his day.'
And Sir Norman said, 'If I had a monkey
I'd put it
on yours, for he looks so spunky.'
So you see that the experts think as
you.
Now, my own own own, may your dream come true,
As I
know it will, as I know it must;
You have all my prayer and my love
and trust.
Oh, one thing more that Sir Norman said,
'A lot of money has just
been laid
On the mare Gavotte that no one knows.'
He said 'She's
small, but, my word, she goes.
Since she bears no weight, if she only
jumps,
She'll put these cracks to their ace of trumps.
But,' he said,
'she's slight for a course like this.'
That's all my gossip, so there it is.
Dear, reckon the words I spoke unspoken,
I failed in love and my
heart is broken.
Now I go to my place to blush with pride
As the
people talk of how well you ride;
I mean to shout like a bosun's mate

When I see you lead coming up the straight.
Now may all God's
help be with you, dear."
"Well, bless you, Em, for your words of cheer.
And now is the
woodcock near the gin.
Good-bye.
Now, Harding, we'd best begin."
At buckle and billet their fingers wrought,
Till the sheets were home
and the bowlines taut.
As he knotted the reins and took his stand

The horse's soul came into his hand
And up from the mouth that held
the steel
Came an innermost word, half thought, half feel,
"My day to-day, O master, O master;
None shall jump cleaner, none

shall go faster,
Call till you kill me, for I'll obey,
It's my day to-day,
it's my day to-day."
In a second more he had found his seat,
And the standers-by jumped
clear of feet,
For the big dark bay all fire and fettle
Had his blood in
a dance to show his mettle.
Charles soothed him down till his tricks
were gone;
Then he leaned for a final word from John.
John Harding's face was alert and grim,
From under his hand he
talked to him.
"It's none of my business, sir," he said,
"What you
stand to win or the bets you've made,
But the rumour goes that you've
backed your horse.
Now you need no telling of Compton Course.
It's a dangerous course
at the best of times,
But on days like this some jumps are crimes;

With a field like this, nigh forty starting,
After one time round it'll