Item 04: Memoirs of a Colonial Boy by Robert Joseph Stewart, ca. 1971 - Page 113
Primary tabs
Transcription
[Page 113]
56
the local primary school, Dad took me to the 1908 meeting on this train. It was my first ride on one since we came to Parkes, and the speed of it whizzing past posts and trees, really had me a bit scared, though it was probably not exceeding a speed of twenty miles per hour for the short trip.
The dusty racecourse Paddock, with well-dressed men and women strolling about between races; the jockeys in their gaily coloured satin blouses and caps, parading on their mounts; and the tough-looking visiting bookmakers, raucously bawling the odds, was a new and exciting experience for me.
Dad set out to be my guide and philosopher. "Here", he said, "is five shillings to have a bet with one of those bookmakers "over there". "I am going to back "So and So", but you can back "what you like". Dad was full of information given by his several horse-owning pals, so in the absence of any other information, I had no choice other than to follow his bets. But in the first two races this policy failed miserably. However, well before the start of the third race I ran into a friend, Charles Calvert, an Irish bricklayer. Like most Irishmen he was an excellent judge of a horse and he "took me under his wing". "Let us go and look at them in the stables", he said. So over we went to the long corrugated-iron stable sheds. Charlie cast his critical eye over the entries for the next race. "Ah faith", he muttered, "Look at that beast with the long swampy back, big head and ewe neck!" "Sure, if he started now he couldn't win". The horse in the next stall was also condemned for being too long in the cannon bone. But the third horse to be inspected, a big red chestnut with white points, whose name was just the initials "MK", roused Charlie's unstinted praise. "Phwat a magnificent baste!", he cried admiringly, "He's the one for our "money!" And so the third five shillings my Father had given me was laid accordingly at twelve to one. I then rejoined Dad who had taken the advice of some of his friends, and backed a short-priced favourite. The race was run and "MK" was an easy winner. I was jumping with joy, and Dad looked down at me in surprise, and asked, "Did you back that winner?". I admitted