wrung it till 'e owled, an' orf I goes to the stables.
"‘Bill,' I says to 'im, 'you carries the Capting's las' shirt termorrer, an' Bill—you carries my little hall as well,' I says."
"Your little haul?" inquired Boodle.
"Yes, Missy, my little absoberlutely hall, an' b'lieve me or b'lieve me not—I stood to win a fi'-pun-note!"
"How much is that in rupees?" mused the President.
"I don' rightly know—but gittin' on fer an 'underd, anyhow," was the reply, "an' that little 'oss won it fer me! Saved the Capting's honner—an' pervided, me with the biggest drunk of a long and 'appy life. . . .
"Ah! Wot a rice that wos! I kin see it naow. . . . The flag fell. The 'osses lep forward. Neck an' neck they ran twice raound the course, an' you could acovered 'em with an 'ankerchief Then, suddingly, hout shot two 'osses from the ruck, Kissin' Cup—I mean Bill—an' a rakin', hugly roan. Neck an' neck they run fer miles. Nearer an' nearer they droo to
