t blow, start the odds, and curry
the coal.{1} These are the lads of life--true lovers of the sport--up to
the manouvre--clear and quick-sighted, nothing but good ones--aye aye,
and here comes Bill Gibbons, furnished with the fashionables."

"What do you call the fashionables?" inquired Bob.

"Why, the Binders."

Here he was as much at a loss as ever, which the other perceiving, he
continued--"The Binders are the stakes and ropes, to fence in the Ring."

Bill Gibbons, who was well known on the road, and was speeding down
pretty sharp, was followed by crowds of vehicles of all descriptions; as
many to whom the place of meeting was but conjectured, upon seeing
him felt assured of being in the right track. Here were to be seen the
Swells in their tandems--the Nib Sprigs in their gigs, buggies, and
dog-carts--and the Tidy Ones on their trotters, all alive and leaping.
Mirth and merriment appeared spread over every countenance, though
expectation and anxiety were intermingled here and there in the features
of the real lads of the fancy; many of whom, upon this very interesting
occasion, had bets to a considerable amount depending upon the result of
the day. The bang-up blades were pushing their prads along in gay style,
accompanied by two friends, that is to say, a biped and a quadruped. The
queer fancy lads, who had hired hacks from the livery-stable keepers,
were kicking up a dust, and here and there rolling from their prancers
in their native soil; while the neck or nothing boys, with no prospect
but a whereas before their eyes, were as heedless of their personal
safety as they were of their Creditor's property. Jaded hacks and crazy
vehicles were to be seen on all sides--here lay a bankrupt-cart with
the panels knock'din, and its driver with an eye knock'd out, the horse
lamed, and the concern completely knock'd up, just before the period
when the hammer of the Auctioneer was to be called in, and his effects
knock'd down. There was another

1 Curry the coal--Make sure of the money.

~398~~ of the same description, with a harum-scarum devil of
a half-bred, making his way at all risks, at a full gallop, as
unmanageable in his career as his driver had been in his speculations;
dust flying, women sprawling, men bawling, dogs barking, and the
multitude continually increasing. Scouts, Scamps, Lords, Loungers and
Lacqueys--Coster-mongers from--To the Hill Fields--and The Bloods from
Bermondsey, completely lined the r