bank notes carelessly crumpled up in his waistcoat
pockets. On one occasion, while he
was standing at a hazard table at the Windsor
races, a stealthy hand was seen by a spectator
in the act of drawing out some notes from
the Irishman's pocket. There was an
instant alarm in the room, and the delinquent
was grappled by a dozen rough hands. Some
persons were for pumping on the kleptomaniac,
others for hauling him at once before a magistrate;
but O'Kelly had his own way of dealing
with such offenders. He at once coolly seized
the rascal by the collar and kicked him
downstairs, saying:

"'Tis sufficient punishment for the blackguard
to be deprived the pleasure of keeping
company with gentlemen."

The saddling bell that rang on the Epsom
Downs on the 3rd of May, 1769 (the ninth
year of the reign of George the Third), was a
knell sounding for the fortunes of all those
unlucky men who had betted against O'Kelly's new
five-year old. The bell, swaying in the little
belfry near the winning-post, was announcing,
that May morning, only a small race; it was for
a poor fifty pound for horses that had never
won, thirty-pound matches excepted. John
Oakley appears with the light chesnut about
which O'Kelly is so confident, and the booted
squires do not see very much in him. His fore
quarters sink in his stride, there's something very
odd about his withers; is very low in his fore
quarters; altogether a doubtful beast. "Captain"
O'Kelly thinks otherwise. Yesterday he took
the odds to a large amount—cocked hats full of
guineas; to-day he is more violent and positive,
bets even money, and five and six. to four that
he would beat all the horses. Now he is called
on to declare, for the jockeys are weighing, and
the course is clearing, violently he shouts, in
answer:

"Eclipse first, and the rest nowhere."

Mr. Fortesque's Gower, Mr. Castle's Cade,
Mr. Jenning's Trial, and Mr. Quick's Plume
are the competitors of Eclipse. The light
chesnut horse, with the white off hind leg,
takes its trial canter, and the turf echoes under
its flashing hoofs. The man in scarlet rides
forward; the horses get into line; the flag
drops; they start. O'Kelly's eager eyes watch
the circular green ribbon of turf with
confident yet anxious glance. At the three-mile
post the horses are all together; the chesnut
has not come forward yet; but though John
Oakley pulls with all his might for the whole
of the last mile, the lion of a horse distances
all the four, and springs in almost before the
rest have turned the corner.

And now the crowd that closed in round the
unruffled winner found all sorts of new beauties
in him. A firkin of butter could rest on his
withers. His shoulders, they now see, are
exactly like those of a greyhound, wide at the
upper part and nearly on a line with his back.
Old men begin to think that lie may some day,
if his speed goes on increasing, equal Flying
Guilders, who went nearly a mile a minute, who
ran four miles, one furlong, and one hundred and
thirty-eight yards on the Beacon course in
seven minutes and thirty seconds, and who was
supposed to cover a space of twenty-five feet
at every bound. The delighted jockey tells
the exulting noisy owner that from the first lift
of the whip Eclipse made running, and broke
clean away from the ruck.

That same month Eclipse won a two-mile race
at Ascot, and in June the King's Plate at
Winchester. The same season he bore away the
King's Palate at Salisbury, and the City Silver
Bowl; he also walked over for the King's Plate
at Canterbury, and won the King's Plates at
Lewes and Lichfield. There was no
compromise about his victories; he cut down the
field at once, and shot in like a rifle bullet.

In 1770, at Newmarket, Eclipse was again
conqueror, beating Bucephalus and Pensioner,
and winning pint cups full of guineas for his old
master, Mr. Wildman. When running for the
King's Plate, the betting was ten to one on
Eclipse. After the heat, large bets were made
at six and seven to four that he would distance
Pensioner, which he did with ease. At
Guilford, in June of the same year, he carried off
the King's Plate and the subscription purse of
three hundred and nineteen pounds ten shillings.
At starting, the betting was twenty to one
on him; and when running a hundred to one.
He sprang away at once, kept the lead, at
two miles was a distance ahead, and ran in
without requiring whip or spur. He had
already won for lucky O'Kelly a cart-full of
gold cups, silver plates, and purses of guineas.
Sporting men were getting afraid of him. In
September, 1770, at Lincoln, he walked over
for the King's Plate. In October, O'Kelly
entered his champion for the Newmarket one
hundred and fifty guinea race, which he won. All
the best six-year olds were then entered against
him for the King's Plate. O'Kelly offered
to take ten to one. Bets were made to an
enormous amount. The captain, being called
upon to declare, shouted his old cry, " Eclipse
and nothing else." Down went the flag, off
went the enchanted horse at score, double
distanced the whole following in a moment, and
passed the winning-post without turning a hair.

No horse dare run against Eclipse again after
that. He walked over the course for several
King's Plates, and was then put out of training
and reserved for breeding. Captain O'Kelly's
fee at Clay Hill, near Epsom, was fifty guineas.
Eclipse was afterwards removed to O'Kelly's
seat at Cannons, Middlesex. Eclipse's master
used to declare that he had gained more than
twenty- five thousand pounds by him; but
whether he meant by breeding alone we do
not know.

This paragon of race-horses died at Cannons
on the 25th of February, 1789, in the twenty-
sixth year of his age, of colic and inflammation.
The stomach and liver were found much
diseased. The heart of the indomitable
creature weighed fourteen pounds, and Vial de
St. Bel, who opened him, attributed his