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 Thoughthe motion made him dizzy, Yet his baby brain was busy: For hadn’t he at length attained the substance of his dream?

He was now a jockey really! And he saw his duty clearly To do his best to win and justify his father’s pride; So he clicked his tongue to Gaylad, Whispering softly, ‘Get away, lad!’. . . The old horse cocked an ear and put six inches on his stride.

Then the jockeys who were tailing Saw a big bay horse come sailing Through the midst of them with nothing but a baby on his back; And this startling apparition Coolly took up its position With a view of making running on the inside of the track.

Oh, Gaylad was a beauty! For he knew and did his duty: Though his reins were flying loosely, strange to say, he never fell; But held himself together, For his weight was but a feather. Bob Murphy, when he saw him, murmured something like ‘Oh, hell!’