Chapter 25
A Few days after the entertainment at Willowsmere, and before the society papers had done talking about the magnificence and luxury displayed on that occasion, I woke up one morning, like the great poet Byron, "to find myself famous." Not for any intellectual achievement,—not for any unexpected deed of heroism,—not for any resolved or noble attitude in society or politics,—no !—I owed my fame merely to a quadruped;—' Phosphor' won the Derby. It was about a neck-and-neck contest between my racer and that of the Prime Minister, and for a second or so the result seemed doubtful,—but as the two jockeys neared the goal, Amiel, whose thin wiry figure, clad in the brightest of bright scarlet silk, stuck to his horse as though he were a part of it, put 'Phosphor' to a pace he had never
