You don't want everyone to see her back, do you ?" Joe wished he had sixpence.
About an hour afterwards Dad came staggering along arm-in-arm with another man--an old fencing-mate of his, so he made out.
"Thur yar," he said, taking off his hat and striking Bess on the rump with it; "besh bred mare in the worl'." The fencing-mate looked at her, but did n't say anything; he could n't.
"Eh ?" Dad went on; "say sh'ain't?
L'ere-ever y' name is--betcher pound sh'is." Then a jeering and laughing crowd gathered round, and Dave wished he had n't come to the races.
"She ain't well," said a tall man to Dad--"short in her gallops." Then a short, bulky individual without whiskers shoved his face up into Dad's and asked him if Bess was a mare or a cow.

Dad became excited, and only that old Anderson came forward and took him away there must have been a row.
Anderson put him in the dray and drove it home to Shingle Hut.
Dad reckons now that there is nothing in horse-racing, and declares it a fraud.

He says, further, that an honest man, by training and racing a horse, is only helping to feed and fatten the rogues and vagabonds that live on the sport..