_The Sands at Baymouth, where some pony and horse races are being run.
By the Grand Stand, and under the wall of the esplanade, about a dozen
bookmakers, perched on old packing-cases, are clamouring with their
customary energy. The public, however, for some reason seems unusually
deaf to their blandishments and disinclined for speculation, and the
bookmakers, after shouting themselves hoarse with little or no result,
are beginning to feel discouraged._
BOOKMAKERS (_antiphonally_). Evens on the field! Three to one bar one!
Five to one bar two! Six to one bar one! Even money _Beeswing_! Six to
one _Popgun_! Come on 'ere. Two to one on the field! What do you want to
_do_?
[_The public apparently want to look another way._
FIRST BOOKMAKER (_to SECOND BOOKMAKER_). Not much 'ere to-day! Shawn't
get no roast baked and biled this journey, eh?
SECOND B. (_with deep disgust_). They ain't _got_ no money! Baymouth's
going down. Why, this might be a bloomin' Sunday-school treat! Blest if
I believe they know what we're 'ere _for_!
THIRD B. (_after pausing to refresh himself, sardonically to FOURTH
BOOKMAKER_). De-lightful weather, William!
WILLIAM (_in a similar tone of irony_). What a glorious day, Percy! Sech
a treat to see all the people enjoyin' theirselves without any o' the
silly speculation yer _do_ find sometimes on occasions like this! (_He
accepts the bottle his friend passes, and drinks._) 'Ere's better luck
to all!
FIFTH B. (_pathetically_). Don't leave your little Freddy out! (_They
don't leave their little FREDDY out._) Cheer up, William, there's
'appier days in store; there'll be Jersey comin' soon. We'll be orf to
the sunny south! (_To a stranger who comes up to him._) Why, Uncle, you
don't say it's you! How _well_ you're looking! Shake 'ands and 'ave a
bit on, jest for ole sake's sake! (_The stranger proceeds to introduce
himself as the Secretary, and to demand a fee._) What! pay you five
shillins for standin' 'ere wastin' my time and voice like this? Not me!
Why, I ain't took two blessed sorcepans since I bin 'ere! (_The
Secretary remains firm._) I won't do it, my boy. Not on _prinserple_, I
won't. I wouldn't give you five shillins not if your tongue was 'anging
down on to your boots--so there! (_The Secretary does not attempt so
violent an appeal to his better nature, but calls a police-inspector._)
'Ere, I'd sooner git down and chuck the show altogether; jest to mark my
contempt for such goings on! (_He descends from his box; takes down his
sign, unscrews his pole, folds up his professional triptych, and departs
in a state of virtuous indignation only to be expressed by extreme
profanity, while the Secretary proceeds unmoved to collect payments from
the others; who eventually compromise the claims for half-a-crown._)
MR. SAM SATCHELL (_"from Southampton"_). Now then, you gentlemen and
aristocratic tradesmen, where _are_ you all? Don't any o' you know
_anything_? Come on 'ere. (_He stops an elderly rustic._) You've got a
fancy, I can see! (_The rustic denies the impeachment, grinning._) Git
along with yer, yer artful ole puss, then, and don't keep gentlemen away
as wants to bet! (_To a Yeomanry trooper._) Come along, my ole
soldier-boy, give it a name! (_His old soldier-boy declines to give it
any name, and passes on._) Call yerself a warrior bold, and afraid o'
riskin' 'alf-a-crown! Why, yer Queen and country orter be ashamed o'
yer! (_As a young farmer in riding-gaiters comes up, with the evident_
_intention of business._) Ah, _you_ don't forget the old firm, I see....
What, four to one not good enough for you? You won't get no better odds,
go where you _like_! I suppose you expeck me to make you a present o'
the money? (_The farmer moves on._) I dunno what's _come_ to 'em all.
_I_ never see nothing like it in all _my_ life!
_In the Grand Stand._
A GLIB PERSON, _in a tall hat_ (_as he picks his way up and down the
benches, the occupants of which treat him with intolerant
indifference_). I'm not a bookmaker, ladies and gentlemen; don't have
that impression of me for a moment! I'm simply an amateur, and an
independent gentleman o' means, like any of yourselves. You all know
more than _I_ do. I don't come 'ere with any intention o' winning your
money--far from it. I'm wishful to settle and live among you. I may
eventually put up as your member; and, if so, when I take my place in
Parliament I shall be in a position to testify that the Baymouth people
are extremely cautious as to the manner in which they invest their money
on 'orse-racing'! Yes, I'm 'ere on beyarf of the Sporting League, just
to prove how free a meeting like this is from the evils o' gambling. I
don't come 'ere to _rob_ yer. I want yer all to win. I like to see yer
bright and shining faces around me; I like the friverolity and
reckereation and the conviverality of the thing, that's all. I'll tell
yer how it is. I've a rich ole aunt, and she puts fifty pound into my
'ands, and sez, "Jacky," she sez, "I love those dear Baymouth people,
and I want you to take this 'ere money and lay it out among 'em in
moieties, and make 'em rich and 'appy." You can see for yourselves. I've
no tickets and no parryfernalia, excep' this little pocket-book, where I
enter any bets you honour me with. Come, Miss win a pair o' those
three-and-sixpenny gloves at Chickerell's, the ex-Mayor's, to oblige
_me_! Did I tread on your corn, Sir? I assure you it was the last thing
I intended.... "You knew I'd do it afore I'd done?"... Well, Sir, if
you've sech a gift o' seeing into futoority as that, why not make
something out of it now? Three to one bar one. _Kitty I'm_ barring.
Thank _you_, Sir; 'alf-a-crown to seven and six on _Sportsman_. I tell
you candidly--you've got the winner. The favourite won't win. Now, then,
all you others, where's your Baymouth pluck? I orfered you thirty to one
_Beeswing_ last race; and you wouldn't take it. And _Beeswing_ won, and
you lost the chance o' making yer fortunes. Don't blame _me_ if the
same thing 'appens again. I'm on'y bettin', as I told you, for my own
amusement, and to get rid o' the money! (_&c._, _&c._)
MR. SAM SATCHELL (_whom the apathy of the public has apparently reduced
to a state of defiant buffoonery_). Even money _Daredevil_, you rascals!
And why the blazes don't ye take it? Come on. I'll take two little bits
o' twos that _Kitty_ don't win! Four to one against ole bread-and-butter
_Tommy_, over there in the corner! Eleven and a 'alf to three quarters
to two against _Kitty_. "What har the Wild Waves say-hay-ing?" Two
_Kitties_ to three _Daredevils_ against a bloomin' goat-chaise? On the
Baymouth Durby I'm bettin'!
_At the Close of the Last Race--Three horses have started; the favourite
has led to the turn and then bolted up the shingle, but, as the tide has
come in and almost covered the course, and the other two horses by
declining to face the water have let him in again, he wins after an
exciting finish, up to the girths in sea-water; and such bookmakers as
have succeeded in obtaining patronage are paying up with as much
cheerfulness as they can command._
FIRST BOOKMAKER (_to eager backer_). "Wait a bit, my boy, wait _a bit_,
the number hasn't gone up yet, my son. Where's your ticket--forty-two?
(_His Clerk refers to book._) That's _Squibbs_. I pay over
_winners_--not losers. (_To the public._) Come along and fetch your
money, the bullion's 'ere! (_To another backer._) What was
yours--threes? ("Fours _I_'ve got," _from his Clerk._) Why don't yer
arst for what you're entitled to, instead o' makin' me arst my clurk
what your bet was? There's your money--take it and go."
[Illustration: "Why the blazes don't ye take it?"]
[_The backer departs wealthier but abashed._
SECOND B. I'm payin' over that 'ard-run race, gentlemen, men and 'orses
exhorsted! I'm payin' over _Susan_--dear ole Susey-hanner! who wants
their money? The Bank o' England's 'ere, gentlemen, Mr. Frankie
Fairprice and his ole friend, who's always by his side and never looses
'im!
THIRD B. (_who has had to borrow largely from his brethren to meet his
engagements_). Are you all done now? (_To the crowd._) Then I'll wish
yer good afternoon, thank ye all for yer comp'ny, but you've bin
bloomin' bad fun to-day, and you don't ketch me playin' Patience on a
monument at any more o' yer blanky sand 'oppin' 'andicaps, that's all!
[_However, the local newspapers report next day that "A number
of the sporting fraternity were in attendance to do business
and apparently carried on a brisk and profitable trade"--which
only shows how difficult it is for the casual observer to form
an accurate opinion._
[Illustration]
'IGHER UP!
(A SKETCH OUTSIDE AN OMNIBUS.)
_The Omnibus is on its progress from Piccadilly to the Bank; the weather
is raw and unpleasant, and the occupants of the garden-seats on the roof
of the vehicle are--for once in a way--mostly men._
FIRST PASSENGER (_to SECOND, an acquaintance_). I see young Bashaway the
other day. (_Significantly._) Jest been to see his father, so he told
me.
SECOND PASSENGER (_with interest_). _'Ad_ he though? And 'ow did he
_find_ him?
FIRST P. Fustrate, young JIM said; didn't know when he'd seen him
lookin' better--(_with sentiment_)--quite like his old self!
SECOND P. (_heartily_). That _is_ good 'earin', that is!
(_Reflectively._) Seems _rum_, though, come to think of it.
FIRST P. 'Ow d'yer _mean_--rum? It's no more than what yer'd expect,
bein' where he is. Look at the _air_ o' the place--there ain't a
'elthier situation all round London, to my mind!
SECOND P. No, that's right enough; and, from all I 'ear, the food's well
cooked and served reg'lar, if it _is_ plain.
FIRST P. Ah, and Bill _enjoys_ his meals now, he does--the work gives
him a appetite, and it's years, to my certain knowledge, since he done a
stroke, and o' course he ain't allowed no drink----
SECOND P. And _that's_ enough, of itself, to be the savin' of 'im, the
way he was!
FIRST P. Then, yer see, there's the reg'lar hours, and the freedom from
worry, and the like, and nothink on his mind, and the place with every
sanitary improvement and that--why, he owns his own self it's bin the
makin' of 'im. And from what young Jim was a tellin' me, it appears that
if Bill goes on gittin' good-conduck marks at the rate he's doin',
there'll be a nice little sum doo to 'im when he's done his time at
Wormwood Scrubs.
SECOND P. (_sympathetically_). Well, and that makes suthin' to look
forward to, don't it, when he _does_ git let out. Talkin' o' that,
you've known 'im longer 'n what I 'ave. Do you 'appen to know what it
was as he got inter trouble _for_?
FIRST P. (_with the consciousness of superior delicacy_). Lor' bless
yer, I never thought o' arskin' 'im the question.
SECOND P. (_with feeble self-assertion under this implied rebuke_).
Well, it all depends on 'ow yer _put_ a question o' that sort.
[_He is silent for the remainder of the journey._
A CHATTY PASSENGER (_to a CONTRADICTIOUS PASSENGER, as the 'bus passes
Trafalgar Square_). Pretty these 'ere fountains look, with the water
playin', don't they?
The CONTRADICIOUS PASSENGER. The fountings are well enough, if it wasn't
fur the water--norsty messy stuff, I call it.
The CHATTY P. (_abandoning the fountains_). It's wonderful what an
amount o' traffic there is in the Strand, ain't it?
CONTRAD. P. Nothink to what it was forty years ago!
[_His neighbour, not feeling in a position to deny it,
subsides._
The DRIVER (_to a PASSENGER WITH A BADGE, immediately behind him_). 'Ow
is it you're orf yer keb to-day, Bob? Taking a day orf, or what?
The PASSENGER WITH A BADGE. Not much. Goin' up to Bow Street to gimmy
evidence in a collision case--that's all.
DRIVER (_dubiously_). Bow Street! Ain't that rorther shovin' yer 'ed in
the lion's mouth, eh?
The P. WITH A B. (_with virtuous serenity_). Not _it_! What ha' they got
agen me all the time I bin licensed? Only three drunks and a loiter!
The CHATTY P. (_returning to the charge_). Orful state the roads are in
with all this mud! I s'pose that's the London County Council, eh?
The CONTRAD. P. London Kayounty Kayouncil! No, it ain't--nothink o' the
sort! I'll _tell_ yer 'oo it is, if yer want to know; it's Gladstone!
The CHATTY P. (_mildly surprised, but glad to have discovered common
ground_). I see you're a Conservative--like myself.
The CONTRAD. P. That's jest where you're _wrong_! I ain't no
Conservative, nor yet I don't want none o' Gladstone neither. I'm a
Radikil, _I_ am. John Burns and Ben Tillett--that's _my_ lot!
The CHATTY P. (_reluctantly relinquishing politics_). Ah, well, every
man's got a right to form his own opinions, ain't he?
The CONTRAD. P. No, he _ain't_--not if he goes and forms _wrong_ 'uns!
(_A pause._) 'Ave yer got the time about yer?
The CHATTY P. (_accepting this as a sign of softening_). I'm sorry to
say I come out without my watch this morning, or else----But there's
plenty o' clocks about as'll tell yer.
The CONTRAD. P. (_with intense disdain_). Clocks! You don't ketch _me_
trusting no clocks--with no two of 'em alike!
The CHATTY P. (_as they pass a well-known watchmaker's_). Well, 'ow
about that clock with the figgers? Won't _that_ do yer? They set it to
Grinnidge time every hour, so it's bound to be right!
The CONTRAD. P. (_as descends_). There yer _are_! Think I'd put my faith
in a clock as 'as to be set right every hour? 'Tain't _likely_! Good-day
to yer!
The CHATTY P. So long! (_To himself._) A pleasant feller enough, I
dessay, if you leave the subjec' to _'im_!
DRIVER (_to smart HANSOM CABMAN_). Now then, outer the way with that
'ere 'Ackney keb o' yours!
HANSOM CABMAN (_with hauteur_). As it 'appens, it _ain't_ a 'Ackney
cab--it's a private kerridge, this is!
DRIVER. Ah, I might ha' known _you_ was a hammytoor by yer silly
hasslike method o' conducting yer business! [_Drives on triumphant._
A POLITICAL PASSENGER (_with a panacea--to a "KNOWLEDGABLE" PASSENGER_).
No, I don't want no 'Ome Rule, nor yet no Parish Counsels, nor nothink
o' _that_. What _I_ wanter see interdooced 'ere is Tereenial Porliments.
The KNOWLEDGABLE PASSENGER (_with respect_). Tereenial Parliments? I
don't know as I've 'eard o' _them_.
The POL. P. Ain't yer? Well, they're what we _want_. Why, they've 'ad
'em in America, they've ad 'em in Ostralia, they've 'ad 'em in Orstria;
and everywhere, mind yer, _everywhere_ they've been in operation they've
turned out a success!
The KN. P. Then it's 'igh time _we_ 'ad 'em. _What_ is it they're
called, again?
The POL. P. Tee-reen-ial Porliments. It stands to _reason_ they work
well. There they _are_, a settin' eight months in the year fur seven
year on end--somethink's _bound_ to come of it! I'd like to see any o'
_our_ lot settin' like that! It's a pity we don't take more pattern by
America in our law-makin'.
[Illustration: "Thash where 'tis, yer come on me too late!"]
The KN. P. Except in our criminal law. Why, I've 'eard there's States
out there where a man may go and commit a crime, d'ye see, and once he
gits across the boundary from one State into another--like as it might
be a line across this 'ere street like, d'ye see--once he's over that,
they can't do nothink to 'im!
The POL. P. (_thoughtfully_). Ah, that wouldn't never do '_ere_, that
wouldn't!
[_The CONDUCTOR comes up to collect fares._
CONDUCTOR (_to a SLEEPY PASSENGER in a corner_). Now then, fare, please?
The SLEEPY PASSENGER (_with manly regret_). I ain't gorrit, ole pal. If
yer'd asht me jes' two minutes afore I gorrup, I could ha' done it for
yer, but I took jes' anorrer glash an' blued th' lot. No man can say I
don' part s'long's I gorrer _money_; no freehandeder man anywheresh'n
wharri am; but yer come on me too late. (_Shaking his head
reproachfully._) Thash where 'tis, yer come on me too late!
COND. 'Ere, I ain't goin' to stand no nonsense! If yer 'aven't got the
money, git down orf o' my bus, and quick, too!
The SL. P. Ged _down_? An' _quick_! You wouldn' tor' li' that if you'd
sheen wharrer bloomin' 'ard job I 'ad to get _up_! [_He resumes his
slumber._
COND. (_passing on, softened_). I can't go and break the beggar's neck
for tuppence, and he's got it somewhere about him, as likely as not.
(_To a LITIGIOUS PASSENGER._) Tuppence is the fare, Sir, if _you_
please.
The LITIGIOUS PASSENGER. One penny is the legal fare, and all I intend
to pay. I know the law!
COND. And so do I. It's wrote up tuppence inside the bus. If yer ain't
going to pay more, yer'd better git down; ye've 'ad over your penn'orth
a'ready!
The LITIG. P. (_with spirit_). I decline to get down. I insist on being
taken to the Bank for my penny.
COND. Oh, _do_ yer? We'll see about that.
[_He stops the 'bus and calls a CONSTABLE, to whom he briefly
explains the situation._
CONSTABLE (_pacifically, from below, to the LITIG. P._). Come, Sir,
don't block the traffic, like this 'ere! Either pay the man his fare or
get down--one of the two.
The LITIG. P. (_from the roof_). I have a legal right to remain here if
I like!
CONST. That may be, Sir; but if you do, this man can summons you that's
all.
The LITIG. P. (_warming with the joy of battle_). That's just what I
_want_ him to do! Can't I _make_ him summon me?
COND. (_disgusted_). 'Ere, 'ang it all! _do_ yer think I'm goin' to cart
you 'arf over London fur a penny, and throw yer in the luxury of a
lawsoot? 'Ere's yer penny back, and I give yer the ride free, _there_!
The LITIG. P. (_accepting the penny, and descending with dignity_). Very
well; and let me tell you this, it was just as well you gave way when
you did, for I was quite prepared to carry the case to the House of
Lords!
COND. Ah! and I s'pose yer think yer'd git _there_ for a penny?
[_The Omnibus goes on before the LITIGIOUS PERSON has time to
think over such an obvious repartee as asking the CONSTABLE to
take the man's number._
[Illustration]