I ONLY hopes as most of my thowsands of readers took my strait tip last
Wensday morning, and got their 9 to 4 against the winner, if not it most
suttenly wasn't my fault. My directions was as clear as daylight. "Dark
morning, dark blew carnt lose." And wosent it a dark morning? and wosent
it luvly arterwuds? Any of my winners may send my 5 per sent commishun
to the hoffice as ushal, and they will all receve a copy of my emortle
Book by post.
It was a puffeckly lovely race! fust Cambridge got fust, then Hoxford
got fust and Cambridge second, and so on all through, but in course
Hoxford wun as I proffysized.
I seed all the River Tems Conserwatives, with the Right Honnerabel the
LORD MARE at the hed of 'em all, a laying carmly at rest in their
bootifool Steam Bote, a trying for to look as if they wasn't responsibel
for all the hundreds of thousands of peeple as lined all the banks of
the River a gitting ome safely. Many on 'em I remarked kept on a
disappearing down below ewery now and then, probberbly to seek that
strengthening of the system so werry nessessery under such trying
suckemstances. Upon the hole, I wentures werry humbly to pronounce it to
be one of the werry sucksessfullest races of moddun times, which I
bleeves means about 6 years. ROBERT.
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[Illustration: "THE GIFT HORSE."]
* * * * *
[Illustration: TIT FOR TAT.
_Captain Pullem (having just effected a "Swop" with his Friend)._ "NOW,
I'LL BE STRAIGHT WITH YOU, OLD MAN. THAT HORSE YOU'VE GOT FROM ME IS A
BIT OF A CRIB-BITER!"
_Friend._ "_Oh, don't mention it, Old Chap. You'll find mine to be a
confirmed Runaway_!"]
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