Ron Reads Boring Books

Lucky Me

Ron

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Fall asleep or zone out to this intentionally boring reading. No excitement, no drama — just dull, slow narration to help with bedtime relaxation or insomnia relief. If you're seeking relaxing reading, boring classics, or a sleep podcast alternative that's ironically unengaging, hit play and let the monotony take over. Subscribe for more calm reading episodes! 

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A mother chases status, a father drifts on empty prospects, and a boy rides a wooden horse to force luck into a home that keeps asking for more. We read DH Lawrence’s classic and trace how desire, debt, and denial turn winnings into a fatal cost.

• a house haunted by the need for money
• Paul’s belief that luck can buy love
• secret betting with Bassett and Uncle Oscar
• early wins and the concealed gift to mother
• debt relief turning into louder appetite
• the Derby obsession and the fevered ride
• Malabar’s victory and the tragic outcome
• the price of status, the silence of love

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Opening And Story Setup

SPEAKER_01

Hello. Are you tired? You will be. This is Ron Reed's Boring Books. Today we're reading The Rocking Horse Winner by D. H. Lawrence. There was a woman who was beautiful, who started with all the advantages, yet she had no luck. She married for love, and the love turned to dust. She had bonny child bonny she had bonny children, yet she felt they had been thrust upon her and she could not love them. They looked at her coldly, as if they were finding fault with her. And hurriedly she felt she must cover up some fault in herself. Yet what it was that she must cover up, she never knew. Nevertheless, when her children were present, she always felt the center of her heart go hard. This troubled her. No, not for anybody.

SPEAKER_04

Everybody else said of her, She is such a good mother. She adores her children.

SPEAKER_01

Only she herself and her children themselves knew it was not so. They read it in each other's eyes. There was a boy and two little girls. They lived in a pleasant house with a garden, and they had discreet servants and felt themselves superior to anyone in the neighborhood. Although they lived in style, they felt always an anxiety in the house. There was never enough money. The mother had a small income and the father had a small income, but not nearly enough for the social position which they had to keep up. The father went to town to some office, though he had good prospects, these prospects never materialized. There was always a grinding sense of the shortage of money, though the style was always kept up.

SPEAKER_00

At last the mother said, I will see if I can make something. If I can't make something.

SPEAKER_01

But she did not know where to begin. She racked her brains and tried this thing and the other, but could not find anything successful. The failure made deep lines come into her face. Her children were growing up, they would have to go to school. There must be more money. There must be more money. The father, who was always very handsome and expensive in his taste, seemed as if he never would be able to do anything worth doing. And the mother, who had a great belief in herself, did not succeed any better. Her tastes were just as expensive. And so the house came to be haunted by the unspoken phrase, There must be more money.

SPEAKER_02

There must be more money.

Paul’s Quest To Find Luck

SPEAKER_01

The children could hear it all the time, though nobody said it aloud. They heard it at Christmas when the expensive and splendid toys filled the nursery behind the shiny, shining modern rocking horse behind the smart doll's house. A voice would start whispering, There must be more money. There must be more money. And the children would stop playing it to listen for a moment. They would look in each other's eyes to see if they had all heard. And each one saw in the eyes of the other two that they too had heard. There must be more money. There must be more money. It came whispering from the springs of the steel swaying rocking horse. And even the horse bending its wooden champing head heard it. The big doll sitting so pink and smirking in her new pram did hear it quite plainly, and seemed to be smirking all the more self consciously because of it. The foolish puppy, too. That took the place of the teddy bear. He was looking so extraordinarily foolish for no other reason, but that he heard the secret whisper all over the house. There must be more money. Money, money, money. Yet nobody ever said it aloud. The whisper was everywhere, and therefore no one spoke of it, just as no one ever says, We are breathing, in spite of the fact that breath is coming and going all the time.

SPEAKER_00

Mother, said the boy Paul one day, why don't we keep a car of our own? Why do we always use uncles or else a taxi?

SPEAKER_05

Because we're the poor members of the family, said the mother. But why are we, mother?

SPEAKER_03

Well, I suppose, she said slowly and bitterly, it's because if your father has no luck.

SPEAKER_01

The boy was silent for some time.

SPEAKER_05

Is luck money, mother?

SPEAKER_01

he asked rather timidly.

SPEAKER_00

No, Paul, not quite. It's what causes you to have money. Filthy lucre does mean money, said Mother. But it's lucre, not luck. Oh said the boy. Then what is luck, mother? It's what causes you to have money. If you're lucky to have money, that's why it's better to be born lucky than rich. If you're rich, you may lose your money, but if you're lucky, you'll always get more money. Oh you will And is father not lucky? Very unlucky, I should say.

SPEAKER_01

She said bitterly. The boy watched her with unsure eyes.

SPEAKER_00

Why?

SPEAKER_01

He asked.

SPEAKER_00

I don't know. Nobody ever knows why one person is lucky and another unlucky. Don't they? Nobody at all? Does nobody know? Perhaps God, but he never tells. He ought to then. And aren't you lucky either, mother? I can't be. I married an unlucky husband. But by yourself, aren't you? I used to think I was before I married, but now I think I'm very unlucky indeed. Why? Well, never mind. Perhaps I'm not really she said.

SPEAKER_01

The child looked at her to see if she meant it, but he saw by the lines of her mouth that she was only trying to hide something from him.

SPEAKER_00

Well anyhow, he said stoutly, I'm a lucky person.

SPEAKER_01

Why? said his mother, with a sudden laugh. He stared at her. He didn't even know why he had said it. God told me, he asserted, bracing it out. Oh, I hope he did, dear, she said again with a laugh, but rather bitter.

SPEAKER_00

He did, mother.

SPEAKER_01

Excellent, said the mother, using one of her husband's exclamations. The boy saw that she did not believe him, or rather, that she paid no attention to his assertion. This angered him somewhere and made him want to compel her attention. He went off by himself vaguely in a childish way, seeking for the clue to luck. Absorbed, taking no heed of other people, he went out with a sort of stealth, seeking inwardly for luck. He wanted luck. He wanted it. He wanted it. When the two girls were playing dolls in the nursery, he would sit on his big rocking horse, charging madly into space with a frenzy that made the little girls peer at him uneasily. Wildly the horse careered. The waving dark hair of the boy tossed, his eyes had a strange glare in them. The little girls dared not speak to him. When he had ridden to the end of his mad little journey, he climbed down and stood in front of his rocking horse, staring fixedly at to into its lowered face. Its red mouth was slightly open, its big eyes wide and glassy bright. No, he would silently command the snorting steed.

SPEAKER_00

Now take me to where there is luck. Now take me.

SPEAKER_01

And he would slash the horse on the neck with a little whip he had asked his uncle Oscar for. He knew the horse would take him to where there was luck, if only he forced it, so he would mount again and start on his furious ride, hoping at last to get there.

SPEAKER_03

You'll break your horse, Paul, said the nurse.

SPEAKER_05

He's always riding it like that.

Uncle Oscar Enters The Game

SPEAKER_01

I wish he'd leave off, said his elder sister Joan, but he only glared down at them in silence. Nurse gave him up. She could make nothing of him. Anyhow, he was growing beyond her. One day his mother and his uncle Oscar came in when he was on one of his furious rides. He did not speak to them.

SPEAKER_03

Hello, you young jockey riding a winner, said his uncle.

SPEAKER_00

Aren't you growing too big for a rocking horse? You're not a very little boy any longer, you know, said his mother.

SPEAKER_01

But Paul only gave a blue glare from his big, rather close set eyes. He would speak to nobody when he was in full tilt. His mother watched him with an anxious expression on her face. At last he suddenly stopped forcing his horse into the mechanical gallop and slid down. Well, I got there, he announced fiercely, his blue eyes still flaring and his sturdy long legs straddling apart. Where did you get to? asked his mother.

SPEAKER_00

Where I wanted to go.

SPEAKER_01

He flared black at her.

SPEAKER_03

That's right, son, said Uncle Oscar. Don't you stop till you get there. What's the horse's name?

SPEAKER_00

He doesn't have a name, said the boy.

SPEAKER_03

Get on without it, all right? asked Uncle.

SPEAKER_00

Well, he has different names. He was called San Sovino last week.

SPEAKER_03

San Sovino, eh? Won the ascot. How did you know this name?

SPEAKER_00

He always talks about horse races with Bassett, said John.

SPEAKER_01

The uncle was delighted to find that his small nephew was posted with all the racing news. Bassett, the young gardener, who had been wounded in the left foot in the war and had gotten his present job through Oscar Creswell, whose batman he had been, was a perfect blade of the turf. He lived on the in the racing events, and the small boy lived with him. Oscar Creswell got it all from Bassett.

SPEAKER_03

Master Paul comes and asks me, so I can't do more than tell him, sir, said Bassett to his face, terribly serious, as if he were speaking of religious matters. And does he ever put anything on a horse he fancies? Well, I don't give him away. He's a young sport, a fine sport, sir. Would you mind asking him himself? He sort of takes a pleasure in it. And perhaps he'd feel I was giving him away, sir, if he don't mind.

SPEAKER_01

Bassett was serious as a church. His uncle went back to his nephew and took him off for a ride in the car.

SPEAKER_03

Say Paul, old man, would you ever put anything on a horse? Horse?

SPEAKER_01

The uncle asked. The boy watched the handsome man closely.

SPEAKER_03

Why do you think I oughtn't to? he parried. Not a bit. But I thought perhaps you might give me a tip for the Lincoln.

SPEAKER_01

The car sped into the country going down to Uncle Oscar's place in Hampshire. Honor Bright, said the nephew.

SPEAKER_03

Honor Bright, son, said the uncle. Well then, Daffodil, Daffodil. I doubt it, sonny. What about Misra? I only know the winner, said the boy. That's Daffodil. Daffodil, eh? There was a pause.

SPEAKER_01

Daffodil was an M's obscure horse comparatively.

SPEAKER_03

Uncle! Yes, son. Why don't you let it go any further? Will you? I promise Bassett. Bassett be damned old man. What's he got to do with it? We're partners. We've been partners from the first, uncle.

SPEAKER_00

He lent me my first five shillings, which I lost. I promised him honor bright. It was only between me and him. Only you gave me that ten shilling note I started winning with. So I thought you were lucky. You won't let it go any further, will you?

SPEAKER_01

The boy gazed at his uncle from those big hot blue eyes. Set rather close together. The uncle stirred and laughed uneasily.

SPEAKER_03

Right you are, son. I'll keep your tip private. How much are you putting on him?

SPEAKER_00

All except twenty pounds, said the boy. I keep that in reserve.

SPEAKER_03

The uncle thought it a good joke. You keep twenty pounds in reserve, do you? You young romancer, what are you betting then? I'm betting three hundred, said the boy gravely.

SPEAKER_00

But it's between you and me, Uncle Oscar. Honor bright.

SPEAKER_03

It's between you and me, all right. You ain't you young Nat Gould, he said, laughing. But where's your three hundred?

SPEAKER_00

Baset keeps it for me. We're partners.

SPEAKER_03

You are, aren't you? And what is Baset putting on daffodil?

First Big Win And A Secret Fund

SPEAKER_00

He won't go quite as high as I do, I expect. Perhaps he'll go 150.

SPEAKER_01

What? Pennies? laughed the uncle. Pounds, said the child, with a surprised look at his uncle.

SPEAKER_00

Basette keeps a bigger reserve than I do.

SPEAKER_01

Between wonder and amusement, Uncle Oscar was silent. He pursued the matter no further, but he determined to take his nephew with him to the Lincoln races.

SPEAKER_03

Now, son, he said, I'm putting twenty on Merza. I'll put five on for you on any horse you fancy. What's your pick?

SPEAKER_00

Daffodil, Uncle.

SPEAKER_03

No, not the fiver on daffodil.

SPEAKER_00

I should if it were my own fiver, said the child.

SPEAKER_03

Good, good, right you are. A fiver for me and a fiver for you on daffodil.

SPEAKER_01

The child never been to a race meeting before, and his eyes were blue fire. He pursed his mouth tight and watched. A Frenchman just in front had put his money on Lancelot. Wild with excitement he flayed his arms up and down, yelling, Lancelot! Lancelot! And his French accent. Daffodil came in first, Lancelot second, Mursa third. The child flushed and with eyes blazing, was curiously serene. His uncle brought him four five-pound notes, four to one.

SPEAKER_00

What am I to do with these?

SPEAKER_01

He cried, waving them before the boy's eyes. What am I to do with these? He cried, waving them before the boy's eyes.

SPEAKER_00

I suppose we'll talk to Bassette, said the boy. I expect I have fifteen hundred now, and twenty in reserve, and this twenty.

SPEAKER_01

His uncle studied him for some moments. Look here, son. You're not serious about Bassette and that fifteen hundred, are you?

SPEAKER_00

Yes, I am, but it's between you and me, Uncle. Honor Bright.

SPEAKER_03

Honor Bright, all right, son, but I must talk to Bassette.

SPEAKER_00

If you'd like to be a partner, Uncle, with Bassette and me, we can all be partners. Only you'd have to promise Honor Bright, Uncle, not to let it go beyond us three. Bassett and I are lucky, and you must be lucky, because it was your ten shillings I started winning with.

SPEAKER_01

Uncle Oscar took both Bassette and Paul to Richmond Park for an afternoon, and there they talked.

SPEAKER_03

It's like this, you see, sir, Bassett said. Master Paul would get me talking about racing events, spinning yarns, you know, sir, and he was always keen on knowing if I'd made or if I'd lost. It's about a year since now that I've put five shillings on Blush of Don for him, and we lost. Then the look turned.

SPEAKER_01

With that ten shillings he had from you, we put it on Shangalese. Singleese.

SPEAKER_03

And since that time it's been pretty steady, all things considering, what do you say, Master Paul? We're all right when we're sure, said Paul. It's when we're not quite sure that we go down. Oh, but we're careful then, said Bassette.

SPEAKER_01

When are you sure? smiled Uncle Oscar. It's Master Paul, sir, said Bassette in a secret religious voice.

Mother’s Windfall And Louder Whispers

SPEAKER_03

It's as if he had it from heaven, like daffodil now, full of the Lincoln. That was as sure as eggs. Did you put anything on Daffodil? asked Oscar Creswell. Yes, sir. I made my bit. And my nephew.

SPEAKER_01

Bassette was obstinately silent looking at Paul.

SPEAKER_03

I made twelve hundred, didn't I? Bassette? I told Uncle I was putting three hundred on Daffodil. That's right, said Bassette, nodding. Where's the money? asked the uncle. I keep it safe locked up, sir. Master Paul, he can have it at any minute he likes to ask for it. What? 1,500 pounds? And twenty. And forty, that is, with the twenty he made on the course. It's amazing, said the uncle. If Master Paul offers you to be partners, sir, I would if I were you, if you were excuse me, said Bassette.

SPEAKER_01

Oscar Croswell thought about it. I'll see the money, he said. They drove home again, and sure enough, Bassette came around the garden house with fifteen hundred pounds of notes. The twenty pounds reserve was left with Joe Glee in the turf combination deposit.

SPEAKER_00

You see? It's all right, Uncle, when I'm sure. Then we go strong for all we're worth, don't we, Basset?

SPEAKER_03

We do that, Master Paul. When are you sure? said the uncle, laughing.

SPEAKER_00

Oh well, sometimes I'm absolutely sure, like about daffodils, said the boy. And sometimes I have an idea, and sometimes I haven't even an idea. Have I, Bassett? Then we're careful, because we mostly go down.

SPEAKER_03

You do? And when you're sure like about daffodil, what makes you sure, Sonny? Oh well, I don't know, said the boy uneasily.

SPEAKER_00

I'm sure, you know, uncle, that's all.

SPEAKER_01

It's as if he had heard it from heaven, sir, Bassett reiterated. I should say so, said the uncle. But he became a partner, and when the ledger was coming on Paul was sure about Lively Spark, which was quite a considerable horse. The boy insisted on putting a thousand on the horse by set, went for five hundred, and Oscar Croswell two hundred. Lively Spark came in first, and the betting had been ten to one against him. Paul made ten thousand.

SPEAKER_00

You see, he said, I was absolutely sure of him.

SPEAKER_01

Even Oscar Croswell had cleared two thousand. Look here, son, he said, This sort of thing makes me nervous.

SPEAKER_00

It needn't, Uncle. Perhaps I shan't be sure again for a long time.

SPEAKER_03

But what are you going to do with your money? asked the uncle.

SPEAKER_00

Of course, said the boy. I started it for mother. She said she had no luck because father is unlucky. So I thought if I was lucky, it might stop whispering.

SPEAKER_03

What might stop whispering?

SPEAKER_00

Our house. I hate our house for whispering.

SPEAKER_03

What does it whisper?

SPEAKER_00

Why, why?

SPEAKER_03

The boy fidgeted.

SPEAKER_00

Why, I don't know. But it's always short of money, you know, Uncle.

SPEAKER_03

I know it, son. I know it.

SPEAKER_00

You know people send mother writs, don't you, Uncle?

SPEAKER_03

I'm afraid I do, said the uncle.

SPEAKER_00

And then the house whispers, like people laughing at you behind your back. It's awful that is. I thought if I was lucky You might stop it.

Obsession Deepens Before The Derby

SPEAKER_01

Had the uncle. The boy watched him with big blue eyes that had an uncanny cold fire in them, and he said never a word. Well then, said the uncle, what are we going to do?

SPEAKER_00

I shouldn't like mother to know I was lucky, said the boy.

SPEAKER_01

Why not, son?

SPEAKER_00

She'd stop me.

SPEAKER_01

I don't think she would. Oh the boy writhed, writhed in an odd way. I don't want her to know, uncle. All right, son, we'll manage it without her knowing. They managed it very easily. Paul, at the other suggestion, handed over five thousand pounds to his uncle, who deposited it with the family lawyer, who was then to inform Paul's mother that a relative had put five thousand pounds into his hands, which sum was to be paid out a thousand pounds at a time on her on the mother's birthday for the next five years.

SPEAKER_03

Oh, she'll have a birthday present of a thousand pounds for five successive years, said Uncle Oscar. I hope it won't make it all the harder for her.

SPEAKER_01

Paul's mother had her birthday in November. The house had been whispering worse than ever lately. And even in spite of his luck, Paul could not bear up against it. He was very anxious to see the effect of the birthday letter telling his mother about the thousand pounds. When there were no visitors, Paul took his meals with his servants as he was beyond the nursery control. His mother went into town nearly every day. She had discovered that she had an odd knack for sketching furs and dress materials. So she worked secretly in the studio of a friend who was the chief artist for the leading drapers. She drew the figures of ladies in furs and ladies in silk and sequins for the newspaper advertisements. This young woman artist earned several thousand pounds a year, but Paul's mother only made several hundreds, and she was again dissatisfied. So she wanted to be first in something, and she did not succeed even in making sketches for drapery advertisements. She was down to breakfast in the morning of her birthday. Paul watched her face as she read her letters. She knew the lawyer's letter. As his mother read it, her face hardened and became more expressionless, and a cold, determined look came on her mouth. She hid the letter under a pile of others. She said not a word about it.

SPEAKER_00

Don't you have anything nice in the post for your birthday, mother?

SPEAKER_01

said Paul. Quite moderately nice, she said, her voice cold and hard and up absent. She went away to town without saying more. But in the afternoon, Uncle Oscar appeared. His said mother, Paul's mother, had had a long interview with a lawyer asking if the whole five thousand could not be a state once, as she was in debt.

SPEAKER_00

What do you think, Uncle?

SPEAKER_01

said the boy. I'll leave it to you, son.

SPEAKER_00

Oh let her have it then. We can get some more with the other, said the boy.

SPEAKER_03

A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, laddie, said Uncle Oscar.

SPEAKER_00

But I'm sure to know for the Grand National or the Lincolnshire or else the Derby, I'm sure to know for one of them, said Paul.

The Fever, Malabar, And The Cost

SPEAKER_01

So Uncle Oscar signed the agreement, and Paul's mother touched the whole five thousand. Then something very curious happened. The voices in the house suddenly went mad like a chorus of frogs on a spring evening. There were certain new furnishings, and Paul had a tutor. He was really going to Eton, his father's school in the following autumn. There were flowers in the winter and blossoming of the luxury Paul's mother had been used to, and yet the voices in the house behind the sprays of mimosa and almond blossom from under the piles of iridescent cushions simply trilled and screamed in sort of ecstasy.

SPEAKER_05

There must be more money. Oh, there must be more money. Oh no, no, no, there must be more money, more than ever, more than ever.

SPEAKER_01

It frightened Paul terribly. He studied away at his Latin and Greek with his tutor. But his intense hours were spent with Bassett. The Grand National had gone by and he had not known, and had lost a hundred pounds. Summer was at a hand. He was in agony for the Lincoln. But even the Lincoln he didn't know. And he lost fifty pounds. He became wild-eyed and strange as if something were going to explode in him. Let it alone, son. Don't you bother about it, urged Uncle Oscar, but it was as if the boy couldn't really hear what his uncle was saying.

SPEAKER_00

I've got to know for the derby. I've got to know for the derby.

SPEAKER_01

The child reiterated, his big blue eyes blazing with a sort of madness. His mother noticed how overwrought he was.

SPEAKER_00

You'd better go to the seaside. Wouldn't you like to go now to the seaside instead of waiting?

SPEAKER_01

I think you'd better, she said, looking down at him anxiously, her heart curiously heavy because of him, but the child lifted his uncanny blue eyes.

SPEAKER_00

I couldn't possibly go before the derby, mother, he said. I couldn't possibly Why not?

SPEAKER_01

she said, her voice becoming heavy when she was opposed.

SPEAKER_00

Why not? You can still go from the seaside to see the Derby with your Uncle Oscar if that's what you wish. No need for you to wait here. Beside I think you care too much about these races. It's a bad sign. My family has been a gambling family, and you won't know till you grow up how much damage it has done. But it has done damage. I shall have to send Bassette away and ask Uncle Oscar not to talk racing to you unless you promise to be reasonable about it. Go away to the seaside and forget it. You're all nerves. Haha I'll do what you like, mother, so long as you don't send me away till after the derby. The boy said. Send you away from where? Just from this house? Yes.

SPEAKER_01

He said, gazing at her.

SPEAKER_00

Why you are a curious child. What makes you care about this house so much suddenly? I never knew you loved it.

SPEAKER_01

He gazed at her without speaking. He had a secret within a secret, something he had not divulged even to Bysette or his uncle Oscar. But his mother, after standing undecided, and a little bit sullen, for some moments, said, Very well, then.

SPEAKER_00

Don't go to the seaside till after the derby, if you don't wish it, but promise me you won't think so much about horse racing and events as you call them.

SPEAKER_01

Haha Oh no, said the boy casually.

SPEAKER_00

I won't think much about them, mother. You needn't worry. I wouldn't worry, mother, if I were you. If you were me, I were and I were you, said his mother. I wonder what we should do. But you know, you needn't worry, mother, don't you?

SPEAKER_01

The boy repeated.

SPEAKER_00

I should be awfully glad to know it, she said wearily. Oh well, you can, you know. I mean, you ought to know. You needn't worry.

SPEAKER_01

He insisted.

SPEAKER_00

Ought I? Then I'll see about it, she said.

SPEAKER_01

Paul's secret of secrets was his wooden horse, which had no name, since he was emancipated from a nurse and a nursery governess. He had had his rocking horse removed to his own bedroom at the top of the house.

SPEAKER_00

Surely you're too big for a rocking horse, his mother had remonstrated. Well, you see, mother, till I can have a real horse, I like to have some sort of animal about, had been his quaint answer. Do you feel he keeps you company?

SPEAKER_01

She laughed.

SPEAKER_00

Oh yes, he's very good. He always keeps me company when I'm here, when I'm there, said Paul.

SPEAKER_01

So the horse, rather shabby, stood and then arrested prance in the boy's bedroom. The derby was drawing near, and the boy grew more and more tense. He hardly heard what was spoken to him. He was very frail, and his eyes were really uncanny. His mother had sudden strange seizures of uneasiness about him. Sometimes for half an hour she would feel a sudden anxiety about him that was almost anguish. She wanted to rush to him at once and know he was safe. Two nights before the derby, she was at a big party in town, when one of her rushes of anxiety about her boy boy, her firstborn, gripped her heart till she could hardly speak. She fought with the feeling, might and man, for she believed in common sense, but it was too strong. She had to leave the dance and go downstairs to telephone to the country. The children's nursery governess was terribly surprised and startled at being rung up in the night.

Closing And Podcast Sign-Off

SPEAKER_03

Are the children all right, Miss Wilmot? Oh yes, they're quite all right. Master Paul, is he all right? He went to bed as right as a trivet. Shall I run up and look at him?

SPEAKER_01

No, said Paul's mother reluctantly.

SPEAKER_00

No, don't trouble. It's all right. Don't sit up. We shall be home fairly soon.

SPEAKER_01

She did not want her son's privacy, privacy intruded upon. Very good, said the governess. It was about one o'clock when Paul's mother and father drove up to their house. All was still. Pa's mother went to her room and slipped off her white fur cloak. She had told her maid not to wait up for her. She heard her husband downstairs mixing a whiskey and soda, and then because of the strange anxiety at her heart, she stole upstairs to her son's room. Noisily she went along the upper corridor. Was there a faint noise? What was it? She stood with rested muscles outside the door listening. There was a strange, heavy, and yet not loud noise. Her heart stood still. It was a soundless noise, yet a rushing, powerful noise, something huge in violent, hushed motion. What was it? What in God's name was it? She ought to know. She felt that she knew the noise. She knew what it was. She could not place it. She couldn't say what it was, and on and on it went like a madness. Softly, frozen with anxiety and fear, she turned the door handle. The room was dark, yet in the space near the window she heard and saw something plunging to and fro. She gazed in fear and amazement. Then suddenly she switched on the light and saw her son in his green pajamas, madly surging on the rocky horse. The blazing of light suddenly lit him up as he urged the wooden horse, lit her up and lit her up as she stood blonde in her dress of pale green and crystal in the doorway.

SPEAKER_05

Paul, she cried, Whatever are you doing? It's Maliba.

SPEAKER_01

He screamed in a powerful, strange voice. It's Maliba. His eyes blazed at her for one strange, senseless second, as he ceased urging his wooden horse, then he fell with a crash to the ground, and she, all her tormented motherhood flooding upon her, rushed to gather him up, but he was unconscious, and unconscious he remained with some brain fever. He talked and tossed, and his mother sat stonely by his side.

SPEAKER_04

Malabah, it's Malabar Baset, Baset, I know it's Malabar.

SPEAKER_01

So she cried, trying to get up, and urged the rocking horse that gave him his inspiration.

SPEAKER_00

What does that mean by Malabal?

SPEAKER_01

asked the frozen, heart frozen mother. I don't know, said the father stonily.

SPEAKER_00

What does it mean by Malabal?

SPEAKER_01

he asked her brother Oscar.

SPEAKER_03

It's one of the horses running for the derby was the answer.

SPEAKER_01

And in spite of himself, Oscar Croswell spoke to Bassette and put and himself put a thousand on Malabar at fourteen to one. The third day of the illness was critical. They were waiting for a change. The boy with his rather long curly hair was tossing ceaselessly on the pillow. He neither slept nor regained consciousness, and his eyes were like blue stones. His mother sat, feeling her heart had gone, turned actually to stone. In the evening, Oscar Croswell did not come, but Bassett sent a message saying he could come up for one moment, just one moment. Paul's mother was very angry at the intrusion, but on second thought she agreed. The boy was the same. Perhaps Bassette might bring him to consciousness. The gardener, a shortest fellow with brown little brown mustache and sharp little brown eyes, tiptoed into the room, touching his imaginary cap to Paul's mother and stole to the bedside, staring with glitterly glittering, smallish eyes at the tossing dying child.

SPEAKER_03

Master Paul, he whispered. Master Paul Malabar came in first, all right. A clean win. I did, as you told me. You've made over twenty seven thousand pounds, you have. You've got over eighty thousand. Malabar came in all right, Master Paul.

SPEAKER_00

Malabar Malabar. Did I say Malabar, mother? Did I say Malabar? Do you think I'm lucky, mother? I knew Malabar, didn't I? Over eighty thousand pounds, I call that lucky, don't you, mother? Over eighty thousand pounds? I knew. Didn't I know? I knew. Malabar came in all right. If I ride my horse till I'm sure, then I tell you. Batset can go as high as you like. Did you go for all you were worth, Batset?

SPEAKER_03

I went on a thousand. Master Paul?

SPEAKER_00

I never told you, mother, that if I can ride my horse and get there, then I'm absolutely sure. Oh absolutely. Mother, did I ever tell you I am lucky? No, you never did, said his mother.

SPEAKER_01

But the boy died in the night, even as he lay dead. His mother heard her brother's voice saying to her, My God, Hester, you're eighty odd thousand to the good, and a poor devil of a son to the bad. But poor devil, poor devil, he's best gone out of a life where he rides his rocking horse to find a winner. This has been The Rocking Horse Winner by DH Lawrence. You've been listening to Ron Reed's Boring Books. Please like, share, subscribe, do all the things that will help me continue this journey of boredom.