A Danish Parsonage

by John Fulford Vicary

The Jensens insisted on taking Frøken Helga and her two brothers, who, since they had heard that Hardy was to ride, were intensely excited.

"I have prayed that you will win, Herr Hardy," said Axel, who was always a quiet lad in manner, and had become more so since his acquaintance with Hardy.

"I am going to take care of my good horse, Axel," said Hardy. "I do not intend to risk his being injured by throwing him down or letting the other horses get too near, and, besides, I should not like to win."

"And why not?" said Helga. "I cannot understand a man riding in a race and not doing his best to win it."

"Your sympathies are with the cavalry officers, and I should please you best by not winning," said Hardy.

"There is your professed superiority again," retorted Helga; "you say you are going to let the others win, suggesting that you could win the race if you chose to do so. I do not believe you can, and think you are afraid to ride hard. You speak of taking care of your horse, which means yourself."

John Hardy looked her full in the face, with a stern expression he sometimes had. What she had said would have galled any man, and Hardy felt it keenly.

The races began, and were well ridden, and ridden to win. There was no betting that John Hardy heard of. He and his servant Garth were asked, on the horses being trotted out, as to the probable winners, which they were able to indicate from their knowledge of what is and is not racing condition in a horse, and they were generally correct.

The trotting match was a failure; there were several entries, but only one horse trotted both heats round the course, the others had not been trained properly or sufficiently. The hurdle race yielded much amusement; many horses had entered for that race, and several refused to jump at all, and there were many falls, to the delight of the populace, and only three horses went through the race, which was won by a neck, the three coming well in together.

When the steeple-chase race was prepared for, Garth brought up Buffalo, looking, as he always did, a grand horse, and amongst the more horsey of the Danes there was much praise of him. John Hardy mounted; he had taken off his coat, waistcoat, and braces, and Garth had tied a blue silk handkerchief on his head. There was a quiet look of efficiency about John Hardy that was a contrast to the heavy mustachios cultivated by the cavalry officers and their rather weedy steeds. There was trouble in getting a start from the restiveness of one of the cavalry horses and the difficulty his rider experienced in managing it, but once away they swept down the slope, Buffalo two horse lengths behind. The water jump reached, the cavalry horses rushed into it, and Hardy had a difficulty in steering clear of the floundering men and horses and letting Buffalo fly the water jump. The water jump had been specially prepared, and was very shallow, and Danish horses appeared to have considered it was best to gallop through it. As it was the rule of the race that the jump must be taken, they were, by that rule, out of the race. They, however, kept on and rode well, taking the fences and wall, with Buffalo going wide of them in the rear. When they came to the rising ground again, corresponding to the slope they had ridden down, the Danish horses began to show signs of being ridden out of hand, and Buffalo passed easily in a canter, taking his fences as quietly as if at exercise, and came in an easy winner. The course had been about four to five English miles, a little too long, thought Hardy, for the Danish horses. Proprietor Jensen came forward to congratulate Hardy, and to thank him for enabling the race to be made interesting to them all.