Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 2).djvu/167

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IN AND ABOUT NEWMARKET.
167


Mat Dawson's stables.
I should think it was. Supposing you got up just after the sun, gave a thoroughbred a couple of handfuls of corn, jumped on his back, and did a couple of hours' gallop over the Heath before breakfast. You'd have to travel many a mile before you'd come across a healthier spot than Newmarket Heath. Why, people come here, after they have found the sea air no good to them, and find the very thing to brighten them up," and the lad's eyes glistened, and his tanned face became more flushed as he went on. "When a race is on, the boy in charge of a horse takes it away, and really lives with it until it comes home again. We get six shillings a day for that. The regular wages vary up to 14s. or 16s., according to the time of service. Many of us live 'indoors,' that is, on the premises, and others lodge out. Clothing is expensive, and you must dress, you know, sir. These little cricket caps, which every lad wears, cost 3s. 6d., his leggings half a guinea, and his breeches twenty-five shillings."

We had arrived in the middle of the High-street, and our future wearer of the pigskin bid us "good-day." It is gratifying to learn one thing. There is a Stable Lads' Institute in connection with All Saints' Schools, where these boys may pass a good evening at all kinds of games, except cards. We also visited the Temperance Hotel, where a score or two of lads seemed to be enjoying cups of excellent coffee, cake, and similar delicacies. In the reading-room adjoining the temperance buffet others were reading the daily, illustrated, and sporting papers, whilst one youth was playing a merry air on a piano in the corner.


Mat Dawson's house.

It was whilst turning back again in the direction of Mr. John Dawson's, Sen., that we wandered down a little by-street, leading from the "Rutland Arms"—the principal hotel in the town—and came across one of the prettiest stables we had seen. This was Mr. A. Hayhoe's, who trains for Baron A. de Rothschild and Leopold de Rothschild. Nothing could be prettier. The stables are white, with green shutters, and creeping plants are everywhere. In the centre of the yard a bed of shrubs has been laid out, in the midst of which stands a quaint-looking, old-fashioned pigeon-house, surmounted by a weather-