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Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"From Mine Own People"



THE BROKEN LINK HANDICAPPED.
While the snaffle holds, or the "long-neck" stings,
While the big beam tilts, or the last bell rings,
While horses are horses to train and to race,
Then women and wine take a second place
For me--for me--
While a short "ten-three"
Has a field to squander or fence to face!
----Song of the G. R.
There are more ways of running a horse to suit your book than pulling his head
off in the straight. Some men forget this.
Understand clearly that all racing is rotten--as everything connected with
losing money must be. Out here, in addition to its inherent rottenness, it has
the merit of being two-thirds sham; looking pretty on paper only. Every one
knows every one else far too well for business purposes. How on earth can you
rack and harry and post a man for his losings, when you are fond of his wife,
and live in the same Station with him? He says, "on the Monday following," "I
can't settle just yet." "You say, "All right, old man," and think your self
lucky if you pull off nine hundred out of a two-thousand rupee debt. Any way
you look at it, Indian racing is immoral, and expensively immoral. Which is
much worse. If a man wants your money, he ought to ask for it, or send round a
subscription-list, instead of juggling about the country, with an Australian
larrikin; a "brumby," with as much breed as the boy; a brace of chumars in
gold-laced caps; three or four ekka-ponies with hogged manes, and a switch-
tailed demirep of a mare called Arab because she has a kink in her flag.


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