The next race was a blindfold one. The competitors having their eyes tied up at the winning-post, were led back to the scratch, and started; the rule being that, if any one wandered to the side of the course and fouled the ropes, or went beyond the post without touching it, he was out of the race. Now Ranulf, who came forward to run, kept wondering to himself what he should do to win.
“You see,” he said, speaking to himself, “I’ve not got anything but a nose; and how can a long nose help me to see? and it’s the blindfolding that is the bother. If I only had an eye at the tip, that would be jolly, only it wouldn’t be fair not to tell them to tie it up too. What am I to do?”
A SWEET IDEA.
BACKER STOPPER.
Now Ranulf had still some of Victoria’s sweetmeats in his pocket, and Ranulf was a boy; so it fell out that when he felt perplexed and did not know where to turn, he, as a matter of course, thrust his hands into his pockets, and it followed naturally that the sweetmeats got into his hand, and that his hand set off on a journey to his mouth. They had a most delicious perfume, so strong that though Ranulf’s nose was wound round him so many times, the scent got through it into his head in a jiffy, or rather in a sniffy. The moment this happened, he began to rub his head very hard, as if something had struck him. He was struck, as it so happened; and although it was only by an idea, it had got so firmly into his head that it must have struck him pretty forcibly. He immediately set himself to work it out. When the competitors were ready to start, Ranulf shot his nose out up the course, sniffing for the first thing he had noticed lying on the side of it that could be discovered by smelling. It looked so funny to see this projection waving about, like some dozens of those long wooden serpents that they have at the toy-shops put end to end, that the whole crowd set up a tremendous shout of laughter. One man, however, did not seem to like it at all. He was the backer of another competitor, and rushed up in a very forward manner (particularly for a backer), shouting—
“I object; it’s not fair!”
ANTITIPATHY.
Upon this the umpires were at once summoned; and after being told what the matter was, one of them addressed the backer, and said—
“We understand you have some objection to this gentleman’s nose; state your proposition.”[10]
“He’s got his nose out in front of him; it’s not the correct tip.”