He changed
into tweeds, took his stick and went down the road, still shaking with
fright, and muttering over and over again:--"God ha' mercy, I'm done
for!
into tweeds, took his stick and went down the road, still shaking with
fright, and muttering over and over again:--"God ha' mercy, I'm done
for!
Kipling - Poems
The start brought the
heels into Shackles' side, and the scream hurt Shackles' feelings. He
couldn't stop dead; but he put out his feet and slid along for fifty
yards, and then, very gravely and judicially, bucked off Brunt--a
shaking, terror-stricken lump, while Regula Baddun made a neck-and-neck
race with Bobolink up the straight, and won by a short head--Petard
a bad third. Shackles' owner, in the Stand, tried to think that his
field-glasses had gone wrong. Regula Baddun's owner, waiting by the two
bricks, gave one deep sigh of relief, and cantered back to the stand. He
had won, in lotteries and bets, about fifteen thousand.
It was a broken-link Handicap with a vengeance. It broke nearly all the
men concerned, and nearly broke the heart of Shackles' owner.
He went down to interview Brunt. The boy lay, livid and gasping with
fright, where he had tumbled off. The sin of losing the race never
seemed to strike him. All he knew was that Whalley had "called" him,
that the "call" was a warning; and, were he cut in two for it, he would
never get up again. His nerve had gone altogether, and he only asked
his master to give him a good thrashing, and let him go. He was fit for
nothing, he said. He got his dismissal, and crept up to the paddock,
white as chalk, with blue lips, his knees giving way under him. People
said nasty things in the paddock; but Brunt never heeded.
He changed
into tweeds, took his stick and went down the road, still shaking with
fright, and muttering over and over again:--"God ha' mercy, I'm done
for! " To the best of my knowledge and belief he spoke the truth.
So now you know how the Broken-Link Handicap was run and won. Of course
you don't believe it. You would credit anything about Russia's designs
on India, or the recommendations of the Currency Commission; but a
little bit of sober fact is more than you can stand!
BEYOND THE PALE.
"Love heeds not caste nor sleep a broken bed. I went in search of
love and lost myself. " Hindu Proverb.
A man should, whatever happens, keep to his own caste, race and breed.
Let the White go to the White and the Black to the Black.
Then, whatever trouble falls is in the ordinary course of
things--neither sudden, alien, nor unexpected.
This is the story of a man who wilfully stepped beyond the safe limits
of decent every-day society, and paid for it heavily.
He knew too much in the first instance; and he saw too much in the
second. He took too deep an interest in native life; but he will never
do so again.
Deep away in the heart of the City, behind Jitha Megji's bustee, lies
Amir Nath's Gully, which ends in a dead-wall pierced by one grated
window.
heels into Shackles' side, and the scream hurt Shackles' feelings. He
couldn't stop dead; but he put out his feet and slid along for fifty
yards, and then, very gravely and judicially, bucked off Brunt--a
shaking, terror-stricken lump, while Regula Baddun made a neck-and-neck
race with Bobolink up the straight, and won by a short head--Petard
a bad third. Shackles' owner, in the Stand, tried to think that his
field-glasses had gone wrong. Regula Baddun's owner, waiting by the two
bricks, gave one deep sigh of relief, and cantered back to the stand. He
had won, in lotteries and bets, about fifteen thousand.
It was a broken-link Handicap with a vengeance. It broke nearly all the
men concerned, and nearly broke the heart of Shackles' owner.
He went down to interview Brunt. The boy lay, livid and gasping with
fright, where he had tumbled off. The sin of losing the race never
seemed to strike him. All he knew was that Whalley had "called" him,
that the "call" was a warning; and, were he cut in two for it, he would
never get up again. His nerve had gone altogether, and he only asked
his master to give him a good thrashing, and let him go. He was fit for
nothing, he said. He got his dismissal, and crept up to the paddock,
white as chalk, with blue lips, his knees giving way under him. People
said nasty things in the paddock; but Brunt never heeded.
He changed
into tweeds, took his stick and went down the road, still shaking with
fright, and muttering over and over again:--"God ha' mercy, I'm done
for! " To the best of my knowledge and belief he spoke the truth.
So now you know how the Broken-Link Handicap was run and won. Of course
you don't believe it. You would credit anything about Russia's designs
on India, or the recommendations of the Currency Commission; but a
little bit of sober fact is more than you can stand!
BEYOND THE PALE.
"Love heeds not caste nor sleep a broken bed. I went in search of
love and lost myself. " Hindu Proverb.
A man should, whatever happens, keep to his own caste, race and breed.
Let the White go to the White and the Black to the Black.
Then, whatever trouble falls is in the ordinary course of
things--neither sudden, alien, nor unexpected.
This is the story of a man who wilfully stepped beyond the safe limits
of decent every-day society, and paid for it heavily.
He knew too much in the first instance; and he saw too much in the
second. He took too deep an interest in native life; but he will never
do so again.
Deep away in the heart of the City, behind Jitha Megji's bustee, lies
Amir Nath's Gully, which ends in a dead-wall pierced by one grated
window.
