It was a sensation of such immeasurable
happiness as to cause me almost pain. New, unknown worlds began
to open for me. From this moment I grew quite convinced that her
resistance was only a question of time.
My aunt returned from the stables in excellent humor; no attempt had
been made upon Naughty Boy's precious health. The trainer, Webb, to
all inquiries, had the same answer,--"All right." Jack Goose was
animated by the boldest spirit. We went to the window to see the
future conquerors come from the stables; for it was time they went to
the Mokotoff Field, there to pace around until their turn arrived.
A few minutes later we saw the grooms leading them into the yard,
encased from top to bottom as in a pillow-slip. Only the soft eyes
were visible through the slit; and from below, the shapely feet that
seemed wrought in steel. They were followed by Webb and our little
home-bred Englishman, Jack Goose, in a new overcoat, which concealed
his silks and jockey-boots. I called out to him through the open
window:--
"Mind, and don't get beaten, Kuba!"
He raised his cap, and pointing with it at Naughty Boy, replied in the
purest, not London, but Bursany, dialect:--
"Bedom prosz jasnie hrabiego widzieli, ale ino jegozad." (They will
see him, my lord, but only his hind-quarters.)
We sat down to a hurried lunch; nevertheless my aunt had time to read
what the papers had to say about the future museum.
Pages:
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360