Here's a right and true list of all the running horses! Dorling's
correct card for the Derby day!——Hollo, old un! hand us up one
here, will you: and let it be a good un: there, now what's to pay?
Only sixpence. Sixpence! I never gave more than a penny at Hookem
Snivey in all my days.——May be not, your honour: but Hookem Snivey
aint Hepsom: and sixpence is what every gemman, as is a gemman,
pays.
I can buy 'em for less than that on the course, and I'll wait till I
get there. Beg your honour's pardon; they sells 'em a shillin' on
the course. Give you threepence. They cost _me_ fippence ha'p'ny
farden.
Well, here then, take your list back again. Come, come; your honour
shall have it at your own price:——I wouldn't sell it nob'dy else
for no sitch money: but I likes the sound of your wice.
Here, then, give me the change, will you?—Oh, certainly: but your
honour's honcommon ard:——Let's see: you want two-and-threepence:
wait a moment, there's another gentleman calling out for a card.
Hollo, coachman, stop, stop! Coachman, do you hear? stop your horses
this moment, and let me get down:——The fellow's run away behind an
omnibus without giving me change out of my half-crown.
That's alvays the vay they does on these here hoccasions: they calls
it catching a flat:——Sorry I can't stop. Where's the new police?
Pretty police truly, to suffer such work as that!
Well, if ever I come to Epsom again! but let's look at the list:
it's cost me precious dear!——Ascot, Mundig, Pelops! why, good
heavens, coachman! they've sold me a list for last year!
Oh, ma! look there! what a beautiful carriage! scarlet and gold
liveries, and horses with long tails.——And stodge-full of
gentlemen with mustaches, and cigars, and Macintoshes, and green
veils:
Whose is it, ma? Don't know, my dear; but no doubt belongs to some
duke, or marquis, or other great nob.——Beg your pardon, ma'am: but
that carriage as you're looking at is a party of the swell mob.
And, oh my! ma: look at that other, full of beautiful ladies,
dressed like queens and princesses.——Silks and satins and velvets,
and gauze sleeves and ermine tippets: I never saw such elegant
dresses:
And how merry they look, laughing and smiling! they seem determined
to enjoy the sport:——Who are they, ma? Don't know, dear; but no
doubt they're Court ladies. Yes, ma'am, Cranbourne Court.
How do, Smith? nice sort of tit you've got there. Very nice indeed:
_very_ nice sort of mare.——Beautiful legs she's got, and
nicely-turned ancles, and 'pon my word, a most elegant head of
hair.
How old is she? and how high does she stand? I should like to buy
her if she's for sale.——Oh, she's quite young: not above
five-and-twenty or thirty; and her height exactly a yard and a
half and a nail:
Price eighty guineas. She'd be just the thing for you; capital
hunter as ever appeared at a fixture.——Only part with her on
account of her colour; not that _I_ mind: only Mrs. S. don't like
an _Oxford mixture_.
Hehlo! you faylow! you person smoking the pipe, I wish you'd take
your quadruped out of the way.——Quadruped, eh? you be blowed! it's
no quadruped, but as good a donkey as ever was fed upon hay.
Oh, my! ma; there's the course. What lots of people, and horses, and
booths, and grand stands.——And what oceans of gipsies and
jugglers, and barrel organs, and military bands!
And was ever such sights of Savoyards and French women singing and
E-O-tables;——And horses rode up and down by little boys, or tied
together in bundles, and put up in calimanco stables;
And look at that one, they call him _Boney_-parte. Did you ever in
all your lifetime see a leaner?——And "Royal Dinner Saloons" (for
royalty the knives might have been a little brighter, and the
linen a little cleaner);
And women with last-dying speeches in one hand, and in the other all
the best new comic songs;——And, dear me! how funnily that
gentleman sits his horse; for all the world just like a pair of
tongs.
And—clear the course! clear the course! Oh, dear! now the great
Derby race is going to be run.——Twelve to one! Ten to one! Six to
one! Nine to two! Sixteen to three! Done, done, done, done!
Here they come! here they come! blue, green buff, yellow, black,
brown, white, harlequin, and red!——Sir, I wish you'd stand off of
our carriage steps: it's quite impossible to see through your
head.
There, now they're gone: how many times round? Times round, eh? why,
bless your innocent face!——It's all over. All over! you don't say
so! I wish I'd never come: such a take in! call that a Derby race!
After being stifled with dust almost, and spoiling all our best
bonnets and shawls and cloaks!——Call that a Derby race, indeed!
I'm sure it's no Derby, but nothing but a right-down, regular
_Oaks_.
But come, let's have a bit of lunch: I'm as hungry as if I hadn't
had a bit all day.——Smith, what are you staring at? why don't you
make haste, and hand us the hamper this way?
We shall never have anything to eat all day if you don't stir
yourself, and not go on at that horrid slow rate.——Oh, Lord! the
bottom's out, and every bit of meat and drink, and worse than all,
the knives and forks and plate,—
Stole and gone clean away! Good heavenlies! and I told you to keep
your eye on the basket, you stupid lout!——Well, so I did, on the
_top_ of it, but who'd have thought of their taking the bottom
out?
Well, never mind: they'll be prettily disappointed: for you know,
betwixt you and me and the wall,——Our ivory knives and forks were
nothing but bone; and our plate nothing but German silver, after
all.
What race is to be run next? No more, ma'am: the others were all run
afore you come.——Well, then, have the horses put to, Smith: I'll
never come a Derbying again; and let us be off home.
Oh, lawk! what a stodge of carriages! I'm sure we shall never get
off the course alive!——Oh, dear! do knock that young drunken
gentleman off the box: I'm sure he's not in a fit state to drive.
There, I told you how it would be. Oh, law! you've broke my arm, and
compound-fractured my leg!——Oh! for 'eavens sake, lift them two
'orrid osses off my darter! Sir, take your hands out of my
pocket-hole, I beg!
I say, the next time you crawl out of a coach window, I wish you
wouldn't put your foot on a lady's chest.——Vell, if ever I seed
such a purl as that (and I've seed many a good un in my time) I'll
be blest.
Oh, dear! going home's worse than coming! It's ten to one if ever we
get back to Tooley Street alive.——Such jostling, and pushing, and
prancing of horses! and always the tipsiest gentleman of every
party _will_ drive.
I wish I was one of those ladies at the windows; or even one of the
servant maids giggling behind the garden walls.——And oh! there's
Kennington turnpike! what shouting and hooting, and blowing those
horrid cat-calls!
Ticket, Sir? got a ticket? No, I've lost it. A shilling, then. A
shilling! I've paid you once to-day.——Oh, yes, I suppose so: the
old tale; but it wont do. That's what all you sporting gentlemen
say.
Hinsolent feller! I'll have you up before your betters. Come, sir,
you musn't stop up the way. Well, I'll pay you again; but, oh
Lord! somebody's stole my purse! good gracious, what shall I do!——
I suppose I must leave my watch, and call for it to-morrow. Oh,
ruination! blow'd if that isn't gone too!
Get on there, will you?—Well, stop a moment. Will anybody lend me a
shilling? No? Well, here then, take my hat:——But if I don't show
you up in _Bell's Life in London_ next Sunday morning, my name's
not Timothy Flat.
Well, this is my last journey to Epsom, my last appearance on any
course as a backer or hedger:——For I see plain enough a
betting-book aint a day-book, and a Derby's a very different thing
from a Ledger.