If you don't, they won't, and you'll find
yourself begging for spotted time on the bush circuits."

Half an hour later, Michael heard, though he understood no word of it,
the master-trainer laying another law down to another assistant.

"Cross-breds and mongrels are what's needed, Charles. Not one
thoroughbred in ten makes good, unless he's got the heart of a coward,
and that's just what distinguishes them from mongrels and cross-breds.
Like race-horses, they're hot-blooded. They've got sensitiveness, and
pride. Pride's the worst. You listen to me. I was born into the
business and I've studied it all my life. I'm a success. There's only
one reason I'm a success--I KNOW. Get that. I KNOW."

"Another thing is that cross-breds and mongrels are cheap. You needn't
be afraid of losing them or working them out. You can always get more,
and cheap. And they ain't the trouble in teaching. You can throw the
fear of God into them. That's what's the matter with the thoroughbreds.
You can't throw the fear of God into them."

"Give a mongrel a real licking, and what's he do? He'll kiss your hand,
and be obedient, and crawl on his belly to do what you want him to do.
They're slave dogs, that's what mongrels are. They ain't got courage,
and you don't want courage in a performing dog. You want fear. Now you
give a thoroughbred a licking and see what happens. Sometimes they die.
I've known them to die. And if they don't die, what do they do? Either
they go stubborn, or vicious, or both. Sometimes they just go to biting
and foaming. You can kill them, but you can't keep them from biting and
foaming. Or they'll go straight stubborn. They're the worst. They're
the passive resisters--that's what I call them. They won't fight back.
You can flog them to death, but it won't buy you anything. They're like
those Christians that used to be burned at the stake or boiled in oil.
They've got their opinions, and nothing you can do will change them.
They'll die first. . . . And they do. I've had them. I was learning
myself . . . and I learned to leave the thoroughbred alone. They beat
you out. They get your goat. You never get theirs. And they're time-
wasters, and patience-wasters, and they're expensive."

"Take this terrier here." Collins nodded at Michael, who stood several
feet back of him, morosely regarding the various activities of the arena.
"He's both kinds of a thoroughbred, and therefore no good. I've n