"
Journeyman's dingy face lit up. When the potboy appeared in answer to the
bell he was told to bring up two half-pints, and Journeyman read out the
weights. Every now and then he stopped to explain his reasons for what
might seem to be superficial, an unmerited severity, or an undue leniency.
It was not usual for Journeyman to meet with so sympathetic a listener; he
had often been made to feel that his handicapping was unnecessary, and he
now noticed, and with much pleasure, that Stack's attention seemed to
increase rather than to diminish as he approached the end. When he had
finished Stack said, "I see you've given six-seven to Ben Jonson. Tell me
why you did that?"
"He was a good 'orse once; he's broken down and aged; he can't be trained,
so six-seven seems just the kind of weight to throw him in at. You
couldn't give him less, however old and broken down he may be. He was a
good horse when he won the Great Ebor Grand Cup."
"Do you think if they brought him to the post as fit and well as he was
the day he won the Ebor that he'd win?"
"What, fit and well as he was when he won the Great Ebor, and with
six-seven on his back? He'd walk away with it."
"You don't think any of the three-year-olds would have a chance with him?
A Derby winner with seven stone on his back might beat him.
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