Thoughthe motion made him dizzy,
Yet his baby brain was busy:
For hadn’t he at length attained the substance of his dream?
He was now a jockey really!
And he saw his duty clearly
To do his best to win and justify his father’s pride;
So he clicked his tongue to Gaylad,
Whispering softly, ‘Get away, lad!’ . . .
The old horse cocked an ear and put six inches on his stride.
Then the jockeys who were tailing
Saw a big bay horse come sailing
Through the midst of them with nothing but a baby on his back;
And this startling apparition
Coolly took up its position
With a view of making running on the inside of the track.
Oh, Gaylad was a beauty!
For he knew and did his duty:
Though his reins were flying loosely, strange to say, he never fell;
But held himself together,
For his weight was but a feather.
Bob Murphy, when he saw him, murmured something like ‘Oh, hell!’
