pigeons. One of the honest
guardians of racing morality resigned in bitter despair some time ago,
giving as his reason the assertion that he could trust nobody. Nobody!
The man was a great lord, he was totally disinterested and utterly
generous, he never betted a penny, and he only preferred to see the
superb thoroughbreds gallop. Lavish he was to all about him--and he
could trust nobody. It seems that this despairful nobleman had tolerably
good reasons for his hasty departure, for we have had such a crop of
villainies to reap this year as never was gathered before in the same
time, and it appears plain that no animal will be allowed to win any
prize unless the foul crew of betting-men accord their kind approval,
and refrain from poisoning the brute.

I address myself directly, and with all the earnestness of which I am
capable, to those young simpletons who think that it is a fine and
knowing thing to stake money on a horse. Some poor silly creatures
cannot be taught that they are not even backing a good chance; they will
not learn that the success or failure of horses in important races is
regulated by a clique of rapscallions whose existence sullies the very
light of day. Even if the simpleton chooses the very best horse in a
race, it by no means follows that the creature will win--nay, the very
excellence of an animal is all against its chances of success. The
Ring--which is largely composed of well-to-do black-legs--will not let
any man win too much. What earthly chance can a clerk or shopman or
tradesman in Manchester or Derby have of knowing what passes in the
hotels of Newmarket, the homes of trainers, the London betting-clubs?
The information supplied so copiously by the sporting journals is as
good as money can buy, but the writers on those papers are just as
easily deceived as other people. Men are out every morning watching the
horses take their exercise, and an animal cannot sneeze without the fact
being telegraphed to the remotest corners of the country; but all this
vigilance is useless when roguery comes into the field. Observe that for
the moment I am not speaking about the morality of betting at all. I
have my own opinion as to the mental tone of a man who is continually
eyeing his neighbour's pocket and wondering what he can abstract
therefrom. There is, and can be, no friendship save bottle friendship
among the animals of prey who spend their time and energy on betting;
and I know how callously they