Guards,--was of much
the same order; a black hunter with racing-blood in his loins and
withers that assured any amount of force, and no fault but that of a
rather coarse head, traceable to a slur on his 'scutcheon on the distaff
side from a plebeian great-grandmother, who had been a cart mare, the
only stain on his otherwise faultless pedigree. However, she had given
him her massive shoulders, so that he was in some sense a gainer by her,
after all. Wild Geranium was a beautiful creature enough: a bright bay
Irish mare, with that rich red gloss that is like the glow of a horse
chestnut; very perfect in shape, though a trifle light perhaps, and with
not quite strength enough in neck or barrel; she would jump the fences
of her own paddock half a dozen times a day for sheer amusement, and was
game for anything[*]. She was entered by Cartouche of the Enniskillens,
to be ridden by "Baby Grafton," of the same corps, a feather-weight,
and quite a boy, but with plenty of science in him. These were the three
favorites. Day Star ran them close, the property of Durham Vavassour, of
the Scots Greys, and to be ridden by his owner; a handsome, flea-bitten,
gray sixteen-hander, with ragged hips, and action that looked a trifle
string-halty, but noble shoulders, and great force in the loins and
withers; the rest of the field, though unusually excellent, did not find
so many "sweet voices" for them, and were not so much to be feared; each
starter was, of course, much backed by his party, but the betting was
tolerably even on these four--all famous steeple-chasers--the King at
one time, and Bay Regent at another, slightly leading in the Ring.

[*] The portrait of this lady is that of a very esteemed
young Irish beauty of my acquaintance; she this season did
seventy-six miles on a warm June day, and ate her corn and
tares afterward as if nothing had happened. She is six years
old.

Thirty-two starters were hoisted up on the telegraph board, and as the
field got at last underway, uncommonly handsome they looked, while the
silk jackets of all the colors of the rainbow glittered in the bright
noon-sun. As Forest King closed in, perfectly tranquil still, but
beginning to glow and quiver all over with excitement, knowing as well
as his rider the work that was before him, and longing for it in every
muscle and every limb, while his eyes flashed fire as he pulled at
the curb and tossed his head aloft, there went up a ge