oceedings.

But the betting-lists are the attraction--these are the dice of the
betting-man: a section of one of the side-walls within the office is
devoted to them. They consist of long strips of paper--each race
having its own slip--on which are stated the odds against the horses.
Hasty and anxious are the glances which the speculator casts at the
betting-lists: he there sees which are the favourites; whether those
he has backed are advancing or retrograding; and he endeavours to
discover, by signs and testimonies, by all kinds of movements and
dodges, the knowing one's opinion. He will drop fishing words to other
gazers, will try to overhear whispered remarks, will sidle towards any
jockey-legged or ecurial--costumed individual, and aim more especially
at getting into the good graces of the betting-office keeper, who,
when his business is slack, comes forth from behind the partition and
from the duties of the pigeon-hole, to stretch his legs and hold
turf-converse. The betting-office keeper is the speculator's divinity.

The office itself is but the point where the ringing of the metal
takes place, where the actual business is more bindingly entered into;
but on great, or, as they are technically termed, grand days, there
will occur--what will also apply, perhaps, occasionally to grand
operas--very heavy operations. Large numbers of the speculators will
collect, forming themselves into knots and groups on the pavement, and
even in the roadway contiguous to the office. Here they appear a
motley congregation, a curious agglomeration of seediness. Seediness
is the prominent feature of the betting mass, as they are on such
occasions collected--seediness of dress and of character. Yet amongst
the groups are some better-looking kine, some who seem to fatten, and
who costume themselves in fully-napped cloth, and boast of
ostentatious pockets, and hats which advertise the owner as knowing a
thing or two. These may be touters to the office: some may be victims,
who have once won a stake. The latter now neglect their ordinary
calling, and pass the whole of their time in the purlieus of
betting-shops. As for the touters--betting-offices are not progressive
without the aid of touters--they are gentlemen who have in their time
worn many kinds of character, who have always existed one way or
another on the very outskirts of honesty, till some fine morning a
careless step brings them from that neutral ground into the domain of
th