mind to pay the L5 stake, had
gradually deceived himself into the idea that he should probably
win; and having never before even owned a horse--for this was a late
purchase, or rather the beast had been taken in lieu of a debt--had
now, for the last three weeks, talked of nothing but sweats, gallops,
physics, training, running, and leaping: and having secured the
services of a groom for the day, who was capable of riding his horse,
had entirely given himself up to the delights of horse-racing. Lucky
was it for Mr. Stark that Crom-a-boo was sure to lose; for had he
won, Stark would have been a ruined man; nothing would have kept
him from the Curragh and a conviction that the turf was his proper
vocation.

The Major was delighted at his prize; he had not drawn a blank, and
that was sufficient for him.

Then, at last, Keegan got Pat Conner's mare from Strokestown. She was
called Diana, and his was the last paper drawn.

"Faith, Keegan, you're in luck," said McKeon, "for the mare can't but
run well. Pat's been training her since May last. I was over there
going to Castlereagh, and I saw Pat at her then."

"'Deed, then, Mr. McKeon," said Conner, "maybe she'll beat your own
mare, much as you think of her."

"Oh! I'm sure she will; there's so much running about her. Was she at
plough after last winter, Pat?"

"She had other work to do, then, for she had to carry me twice a week
through the season; and that she did--and that's not light work, I
think."

"Carry you, Pat!" said Gayner; "why, you don't mean to say you hunt
that old garron you call Diana? Faith, man, you're too bold; your
friends ought to look to you; what would the country do if you broke
your neck?"

"It's your own is in most danger, I'm thinking," replied Pat; "faith,
I wouldn't take all the pick up to-morrow, to ride that devil you're
to ride over the course."

"And I'll take devilish good care you're not asked," said McKeon:
"but now, boys, as I fear the Major's hardly up to it, I'll dispose
of the prizes. Come, which shall I put up first? which was drawn
first?"

"Your own mare, Tony; Gayner got Playful at the first start."

"Well, gentlemen, here's the mare Playful. I believe I'm to say all
the good I can about her, and upon my word she doesn't want spirit."
Here he whispered Gayner, whom he told to bid for themselves
conjointly. "Come, gentlemen, what do you offer? people say she's
wicked, but she'll not kick you if you don't come in her rea