Mchenry's Horse

Ballaraat’s known for its bounty of gold, and the days of Eureka Stockade, plus winning horses, on racing courses, where flanks of the horses are flayed. And the offer of prize is a bountiful one, for a winner that’s greeting the post. Contacts can live on the fat of the land, and McHenry soon noticed it most. For McHenry himself is a gambling man, but a punter is doomed with the odds. He knows the need is a horse of his own … one a little bit faster than plods. So McHenry instead of a day at the track, took a trip where the top owners bid. Where yearlings were going for one hundred grand; he got a beauty for just twenty quid. McHenry discovered that horses must eat, and grass only made ‘em grow fat, so the outlay for oats and the cost of the vet, had seen his bank balance go flat. Of course he believed outlay is a must, rescued when he first wins a race, then discovered the prize is a pittance, when his horse comes in second place. And therefore the debt is increasing; in fact McHenry’s well into the red, for after five starts and five seconds, “The horse needs a good kicking” he said. … But McHenry had been over heard, by a scoundrel who gave him a tip “Your horse has got good potential but it needs a bit more than the whip”. “And it just so happens McHenry, not a minute do you have to wait, for here in my pocket’s a packet, of our product we call - ‘out the gate”. “But first you must read one instruction”. Wisely that is the first thing he did. ‘Keep out of sight from the stewards. And its cost was two hundred quid! And the dosage was one or two drops, with a sugar cube’s better it said, so with this McHenry had figured, his horse would now finish ahead. But McHenry was very suspicious, and felt that the drug needs a test. He was worried it might be a downer, draining his horse from its zest. So he gave some to his cocker spaniel on a biscuit thrown onto the floor, then the cocker took off like a rocket, outrunning the greyhound next door! So it’s off to the track up at Seymour, where McHenry had entered his horse, in a race that is put on for maidens, while ‘out the gate’ went there of course. At the back of the stable, McHenry while hidden he blended the two, and then quite brazen, this sugar, McHenry gave his horse quite a few. But of course in the game of horse racing, where doping and scandal are rife, anything that does look suspicious, can get a bloke like McHenry in strife. So naturally McHenry’s been spotted, feeding his horse with this brew, by the Clerk of the Course at the stable, whose suspicion immediately grew. But McHenry’s indignant denial, was abetted with what he did do. He mentioned its just lumps of sugar, and to prove it he ate quite a few. The Clerk of the Course then admitted he doesn’t mind sugar as well, so McHenry gave him two lumps, while praying to God he can’t tell. And now with a huge sigh of relief, McHenry knew lucks on his side, with his horse primed up as a winner he sought his jockey taking the ride. McHenry looked to the left then the right, and dragged the young jockey aside, and quietly from the side of his mouth, he instructed the best way to ride. He said, “Hold his head into the turn. Down the straight just go with the horse. Don't worry if anything passes you mate, it'll be me or the Clerk of the Course!"