Why, if you had had a man
like Rintoul as your Captain, you would never have been worth your
salt."
"You are not complimentary, Doctor; but then nobody looks for
compliments from you."
"I can pay compliments if I have a chance," the Doctor retorted,
"but it is very seldom I get one of doing so--at least, without
lying. Well, Bathurst, are you ready to turn in?"
"Quite ready, Doctor; that is one of the advantages of not caring
for races; the merits and demerits of the horses that run tomorrow
do not in the slightest degree affect me, and even the news that
all the favorites had gone wrong would not deprive me of an hour's
sleep."
"I think it a good thing to take an interest in racing, Bathurst.
Take men as a whole: out here they work hard--some of them work
tremendously hard--and unless they get some change to their
thoughts, some sort of recreation, nineteen out of twenty will
break down sooner or later. If they don't they become mere machines.
Every man ought to have some sort of hobby; he need not ride it to
death, but he wants to take some sort of interest in it. I don't
care whether he takes to pig sticking, or racing, or shooting,
or whether he goes in for what I may call the milder kinds of
relaxation, such as dining out, billiards, whist, or even general
philandering. Anything is better than nothing--anything that
will take his mind off his work. As far as I can see, you don't do
anything."
"Therefore I shall either break down or become a machine, Doctor?"
"One or the other certainly, Bathurst.
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