“King Dick!”
“White Lassie!”
“White Lassie!”
“White Lassie!” rose in a perfect roar, as first one and then the other head appeared in front, till, within a hundred yards of the stand, the white mare’s head—neck—shoulders—half-length—whole length appeared in front of her competitor, and, amidst the frantic cheers of the crowd, she leaped in, a clear winner.
“There,” said Trevor, turning with a smile to Pratt, “what do—”
He stopped short, and seemed to have tried to emulate the last hound of the mare; for at that moment, all excitement as she watched the race, Trevor saw one of the occupants of the barouche give a sudden start, and nearly fall over the side.
The cause was simple, and was seen by Pratt at the same moment.
Barney, of the omnibus, for the delectation of his friends, had, the moment the race was ended, raised his stick, reached over the heads of the crowd, and given the old gentleman a sharp thrust in the ribs.
The result was a violent start, and, as we have said, the young girl was nearly precipitated from the seat upon which she stood.
A hoarse roar of laughter followed the clown-like feat; and then there was a dead silence, for a fresh character appeared upon the scene, and Barney was stooping down shaking his head to get rid of the dizziness caused by a tremendous blow upon his bull-dog front.