And sooth, a deal of guile Lurked in his ample smile, As down his throat the roaring lion hasted; "Economy with me, Is chief of all," said he, "And I am truly glad to see there"s nothing wasted."
"TWO SOULS WITH BUT A SINGLE THOUGHT."
BY WILLIAM THOMSON.
"My soul is at the gate!"
The sighing lover said.
He wound his arms around her form And kissed her golden head.
"My _sole_ is at the gate!"
The maiden"s father said.
The lover rubbed the smitten part, And from the garden fled.
A RISKY RIDE.
BY CAMPBELL RAE-BROWN.
"A risky ride," they called it.
Lor bless ye, there wasn"t no risk: I knew if I gave "er "er head, sir, That "Painted Lady" would whisk Like a rocket through all the horses, And win in a fine old style, With "the field" all a-tailin" behind "er In a kind of a" Indian file.
You didn"t know old Josh Grinley-- "Old Josh o" the Whitelands Farm,"
As his father had tilled afore "im, And his afore "im.--No harm Ever touched one of the Grinleys When the "Ollingtons owned the lands; But they ruined themselves through racing, And it pa.s.sed into other hands.
Ain"t ye heard how Lord "Ollington died, sir, On that day when "Midlothian Maid"
Broke down when just winning the "Stewards""?
Every farthing he"d left was laid On the old mare"s chance; and vict"ry Seemed fairly within his grasp When she stumbled--went clean to pieces.
With a cry of despair--a gasp-- Lord "Ollington staggered backwards; A red stream flowed from his mouth, And he died--with the shouts ringing round him: "Beaten by Queen o" the South!"
But I"m going on anyhow,--ain"t I?
I began about my ride; And I"m talking now like a novel Of how Lord "Ollington died.
Don"t ask me to tell how I"m bred, sir; Put my "pedigree" down as "unknown,"
But a good "un to go when he"s "wanted,"
From whatever dam he was thrown.
Old Joshua--he"s been my mother And father all rolled into one;-- It was "im as bred and trained me; Got me "ready" and "fit" to run.
It"s been whispered he saved my life, sir-- Picked me up one winter"s night, Wrapped up in a shawl or summat,-- The tale"s like enough to be right.
It"s just what he would do,--bless "im!
Yes, I owed every atom to him: So you"ll guess how I felt that mornin", When, with eyes all wet and dim, He told me the new folk would give "im But two weeks to pay his arrears; Then he cried like a little child, sir.
When I saw the old fellow"s tears, My young blood boiled madly within me; I knew how he"d struggled and fought "Gainst years of bad seasons and harvests; How n.o.bly but vainly he"d sought To make both ends meet at the "Whitelands."
"They never will do it!" I cry.
"You"ve lived all your life at the "Farm," Josh, And you"ll still live on there till you die!
"Tain"t for me to tell stable secrets, But I know--well, just what I know: Go! say that in less than a month, Josh, You"ll pay every penny you owe."
"A couple o" hundred" was wanted To pull good old Joshua right; I was only a lad; but I"d "fifty"-- My money went that night, Every penny on "Painted Lady"
For the "Stakes" in the coming week.
I should "ave backed her afore, sir; But waited for master to speak As to what he intended a-doing, I thought "twas a "plant"--d"ye see?
With a bit o" "rope" in the question, So I"d let "Painted Lady" be.
I knew she _could_ win in a canter, As long as there wasn"t no "fake."
And now--well, I meant that she _should_ win, For poor old Josh Grinley"s sake.
The three-year old "Painted Lady"
Had never been beat in her life; And I"d always "ad the mount, sir; But rumours now "gan to get rife That something was wrong with the "filly".
The "bookies" thought everything "square"-- For them--so they "laid quite freely"
Good odds "gainst the master"s mare!
When he"d gone abroad in the summer He had given us orders to train "The Lady" for this "ere race, sir; We"d never heard from him again.
And, seeing the "bookies" a-layin", I thought they knew more than I: But _now_ I thought with a chuckle, Let each look out for his eye.
The morning before the race, sir, The owner turned up. With a smile I showed "im the mare--"There she is, sir, Goin" jist in "er same old style.
We"ll win in a common canter, "Painted Lady" and I, Sir Hugh, As we"ve always done afore, sir; As we always mean to do."
He looked at me just for a moment, A shade of care seemed to pa.s.s All over his handsome features.
Then he kicked at a tuft o" gra.s.s, In a sort of a pet, then stammered, As he lifted his eyes from his shoes, "I"m sorry, my lad--very sorry, But to-morrow the mare must _lose_."
He turned on his heel. I stood stroking My "Lady"s" soft shining skin, Then I muttered, "I"m sorry, sir, very, But to-morrow the mare must _win_."
I was "tween two stools, as they say, sir-- If I disobeyed orders, Sir Hugh Would "sack" me as safe as a trivet, So I thought what I"d better do.
I wasn"t so long, for I shouted, "I"ve hit it! I"ll _win_ this "ere race, And I"ll lay fifty pounds to a sov"reign As I don"t get the "kick" from my place."
The day of the race: bell"s a-ringin"
To clear the course for the start.
I gets to an out-o"-way corner; Then, quickly as lightning, I dart My hand "neath my silken jacket, Pops a tiny phial to my lips, Then off to mount "Painted Lady"-- Sharp into the saddle I slips.
In a minute or two we were streaming Down the course at a nailing pace; But I lets the mare take it easy, For I feels as I"ve got the race Well in hand. "No, nothing can touch ye: You"ll win!" I cries--"Now then, my dear!"
All at once I feels fairly silly; Then I comes over right down queer.
I dig my knees into her girths, sir; I let the reins go--then I fall Back faint, and dizzy, and drowsy-- "Painted Lady" sweeps on past them all.
She can"t make out what"s a happenin", Flies on--maddened, scared with fright-- And wins--by how far? well, don"t know, sir, But the rest hadn"t come in sight.
I was took from the saddle, lifeless; I"ve heard as they thought me dead; And after I rallied--""Twas funny!
"Twas curious--very!" they said.
The matter was all hushed up, sir; Sir Hugh dussn"t show "is hands.
I"m head "boss" now in the stables.
Josh stayed--and died--down at the "Lands.