THE FRENCH "NEWMARKET" 



" Wobbling like a rice pudding going to the bakehouse 

 on a cold frosty morning." 



A relative of Sweeper went out to East Africa and 

 stayed with his brother-in-law at an up-country inn. 

 The morning after he arrived his host said : " When 

 you've had a good breakfast, old man, we'll go out 

 and try and find a lion ! " "I ain't lost no lion," 

 replied Sweeper's relative. This has been told, but 

 it originated with Sweeper. 



I suppose everyone knows Charlie " Cards " — 

 Hudson his real name is. A wonderful character who 

 has known Paris since the time you who are old enough 

 to be grandfathers can remember. Everything which 

 has transpired on the French turf during the last — 

 well, ask Charlie " how long ? " — is imprinted on his 

 memory. His story of the Commune period — nearly 

 forty-five years ago — is enormous. He was employed 

 in a printing place and the Communards coralled him 

 in the office and sent him out for some bottles of wine. 

 Charlie didn't want the money, but, once outside the 

 front door, never intended to come back with the 

 wine — or near those lawless bullies, so simply he did 

 a guy. He had more worry over the risk of that day 

 than he ever had over backing a loser. All the men 

 who have come and gone during nearly two generations 

 Hudson has known : this part of it he ought to be 

 telling, not I. His earnest manner and underlying 

 common-sense have attracted many to him. Those 

 days in 1899, 1900 and 1901 can never be forgotten. 



Alf Suffolk — now dead — can be recalled. Poor chap ! 

 he was of a weak physique, yet could be the most 

 aggressive and pugnacious of the racing crowd, 

 especially when he had a kink about or a grudge 

 against anybody. He at first took a most violent 

 dislike to me — which in itself was rather extraordinary, 



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