ponies pulled back and the horses entered the little compartments that they’d start to race from.
A bell rang, the gates opened, and the race began. Then the whole thing was over in about two minutes.
Carole had completely lost track of where the horse that Mr. McLeod was watching had come in or how it had raced. However, one look at Mr. McLeod told her that the horse had done well. He was nodding sagely to himself.
“She ran a nice race,” Judy said, showing that she had noticed many things Carole hadn’t. Oh well, Carole thought, I’m just going to have to learn to watch carefully and understand what I’m watching before it makes much sense. At least she had been able to tell which horse had won. Of course, there wasn’t any trick to that.The winning horse’s number, as well as those of the second-, third-, and fourth-place finishers, were posted on the large “tote board” in front of her. Besides that, they were standing right in front of the winner’s circle. The first-place horse was being photographed while his jockey stood on a scale, holding the saddle and blanket on the scale with him. That was to make sure how much weight the horse had been carrying. Other riders took their horses back to the paddock, accompanied by the lead ponies and their riders. Already the track was being prepared for the next race, which would take place in a half an hour.
Carole and Judy returned to the stable area while Mr. McLeod went to find the owner of the horse he’d been watching. He was prepared to buy the horse right there and then. Carole was pretty sure that the next time she saw him, he’d have a new mare for his stable.
Stephen was nowhere in sight. Judy explained that he was in the jockey’s dressing room, preparing for his first race. Hold Fast, who was going off in the third race, was getting a lot of attention from the groom and stable hand. Although there was no scientific way to explain it, everybody always agreed that a well-groomed horse ran faster. Carole’s own theory about that was that horses were quite vain. They knew when they looked good, and they enjoyed showing it off. She’d never seen anything about a horse that would disprove that theory. The stallionwas clearly enjoying all the attention he was getting. His coat gleamed. So did his eyes. At the groom’s suggestion, Carole picked up a brush and helped with the grooming. If the stallion had liked two people working on his coat at once, he would
love
having three people do it!
When it came time to take Hold Fast over to the paddock, the groom handed the lead rope to Carole.
“Why don’t you walk him over?” he said. “He’s got the third post position, so he’ll be in the stall marked with a three.”
It was all Carole could do to keep from asking “
Me?!
” when he handed her the rope. Without a word, because she couldn’t have talked anyway, she clipped the lead onto the stallion and walked him the quarter mile of soft dirt track to the paddock behind the grandstand. She was walking with a dozen other grooms and caretakers, but she felt more special than all of them, and she felt certain that everybody was looking at her. A glance around, however, told her that nobody was noticing. Everybody was simply doing their job. What a wonderful, exciting job it is, Carole thought.
Once she’d delivered the stallion to the groom in the paddock, Carole watched the stallion and all the other horses go through their final preparations. Each horse was tacked up with the same kind of very small racing saddle, and each horse was given a number, representingits post position. Carole had learned that the post position basically meant which stall the horse started the race in, and how far off the rail the horse would be. Being close to the rail usually gave a horse an advantage, unless it was the kind of horse who wasn’t comfortable riding in a pack and needed space. In those cases the owners hoped for a higher post position. Mr. McLeod had
A bell rang, the gates opened, and the race began. Then the whole thing was over in about two minutes.
Carole had completely lost track of where the horse that Mr. McLeod was watching had come in or how it had raced. However, one look at Mr. McLeod told her that the horse had done well. He was nodding sagely to himself.
“She ran a nice race,” Judy said, showing that she had noticed many things Carole hadn’t. Oh well, Carole thought, I’m just going to have to learn to watch carefully and understand what I’m watching before it makes much sense. At least she had been able to tell which horse had won. Of course, there wasn’t any trick to that.The winning horse’s number, as well as those of the second-, third-, and fourth-place finishers, were posted on the large “tote board” in front of her. Besides that, they were standing right in front of the winner’s circle. The first-place horse was being photographed while his jockey stood on a scale, holding the saddle and blanket on the scale with him. That was to make sure how much weight the horse had been carrying. Other riders took their horses back to the paddock, accompanied by the lead ponies and their riders. Already the track was being prepared for the next race, which would take place in a half an hour.
Carole and Judy returned to the stable area while Mr. McLeod went to find the owner of the horse he’d been watching. He was prepared to buy the horse right there and then. Carole was pretty sure that the next time she saw him, he’d have a new mare for his stable.
Stephen was nowhere in sight. Judy explained that he was in the jockey’s dressing room, preparing for his first race. Hold Fast, who was going off in the third race, was getting a lot of attention from the groom and stable hand. Although there was no scientific way to explain it, everybody always agreed that a well-groomed horse ran faster. Carole’s own theory about that was that horses were quite vain. They knew when they looked good, and they enjoyed showing it off. She’d never seen anything about a horse that would disprove that theory. The stallionwas clearly enjoying all the attention he was getting. His coat gleamed. So did his eyes. At the groom’s suggestion, Carole picked up a brush and helped with the grooming. If the stallion had liked two people working on his coat at once, he would
love
having three people do it!
When it came time to take Hold Fast over to the paddock, the groom handed the lead rope to Carole.
“Why don’t you walk him over?” he said. “He’s got the third post position, so he’ll be in the stall marked with a three.”
It was all Carole could do to keep from asking “
Me?!
” when he handed her the rope. Without a word, because she couldn’t have talked anyway, she clipped the lead onto the stallion and walked him the quarter mile of soft dirt track to the paddock behind the grandstand. She was walking with a dozen other grooms and caretakers, but she felt more special than all of them, and she felt certain that everybody was looking at her. A glance around, however, told her that nobody was noticing. Everybody was simply doing their job. What a wonderful, exciting job it is, Carole thought.
Once she’d delivered the stallion to the groom in the paddock, Carole watched the stallion and all the other horses go through their final preparations. Each horse was tacked up with the same kind of very small racing saddle, and each horse was given a number, representingits post position. Carole had learned that the post position basically meant which stall the horse started the race in, and how far off the rail the horse would be. Being close to the rail usually gave a horse an advantage, unless it was the kind of horse who wasn’t comfortable riding in a pack and needed space. In those cases the owners hoped for a higher post position. Mr. McLeod had
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