an
race meeting (I don't care which you pick) and you will fancy that
Hell's tatterdemalions have got holiday. Whatsoever things are vile,
whatsoever things are roguish, bestial, abominable, belong to the
racecourse loafers. To call them thieves is to flatter them, for their
impudent knavery transcends mere thieving; they have not a virtue; they
are more than dangerous, and, if ever there comes a great social
convulsion, they will let us know of their presence in an awkward
fashion, for they are trained to riot, fraud, bestiality, and theft, on
the fringe of the racecourse.

Then comes the next line of predatory animals who suck the blood of the
dupes. If you look at one of the daily sporting papers you will see, on
the most important page, a number of flaming announcements, which will
make very comic reading for you if you have any sense of humour at all.
Gentlemen, who usually take the names of well-known jockeys or trainers,
offer to make your fortune on the most ridiculously easy terms. You
forward a guinea or half-a-guinea, and an obliging prophet will show you
how to ruin the bookmakers. Old Tom Tompkins has a "glorious success"
every week; Joe, and Bill, and Harry, and a good score more, are always
ready to prove that they named the winner of any given race; one of
these fellows advertises under at least a dozen different names, and he
is able to live in great style and keep a couple of secretaries,
although he cannot write a letter or compose a circular. The _Sporting
Times_ will not allow one of these vermin to advertise in its columns,
and it has exposed all their dodges in the most conclusive and trenchant
set of articles that I ever saw; but other journals admit the
advertisements at prices which seem well-nigh prohibitive, and they are
content to draw from L15 to L20 per day by blazoning forth false
pretences. I have had much fun out of these "tipsters," for they are
deliciously impudent blackguards. A fellow will send you the names of
six horses--all losers; in two days he will advertise--"I beg to
congratulate all my patrons. This week I was in great form on the whole,
and on Thursday I sent all six winners. A thousand pounds will be paid
to any one who can disprove this statement." Considering that the sage
sent you six losers on the Thursday, you naturally feel a little
surprised at his tempestuously confident challenge. All the seers are
alike; they pick names at haphazard from the columns of the newsp