Joe asked Dad for sixpence to buy some, but Dad had n't any small change.

We remained in front of the booth through most of the day, and ran after any corks that popped out and handed them in again to the shanty-keeper.

He did n't offer us anything--not a thing! "Saddle up for the Overhaul Handicap!" was at last sung out, and Dad, saddle on arm, advanced to where Dave was walking Bess about.

They saddled up and Dave mounted, looking as pale as death.
"I don't like ridin' in these boots a bit," he said, with a quiver in his voice.
"Wot's up with 'em ?" Dad asked.
"They're too big altogether." "Well, take 'em off then!" Dave jumped down and pulled them off-leaving his socks on.
More than a dozen horses went out, and when the starter said "Off!" did n't they go! Our eyes at once followed Bess.

Dave was at her right from the jump--the very opposite to what Dad had told him.