138 THE TURF 



all in a cluster , the jockeys glancing at each 

 other's horses, for they cannot do more in 

 such a crowd. They are soon, however, a 

 little more at their ease ; the severity of the 

 ground, and the rapidity of the pace, throw 

 the soft-hearted ones behind ! and at Tat- 

 tenham's corner there is room for observa- 

 tion. ' I think I can win,' says Robinson to 

 himself, ' if I can but continue to live with 

 my horses ; for I know I have the speed of 

 all here. But I must take a strong pull 

 down this hill, for we have not been coming 

 over Newmarket flat.' Pavis's horse is going 

 sweetly, and the Yorkshireman, Scott, lying 

 well up. But where is Chifney ? Oh ! like 

 Christmas, he *s coming, creeping up in his 

 usual form, and getting the blind side of 

 Harry Edwards. Chappie is here on a 

 dangerous horse, 1 and John Day with a 

 strain of old Prunella. // is a terrible race ! 

 There are seven in front within the distance, 

 and nothing else has a chance to win. The 

 set-to begins ; they are all good ones. Whips 

 are at work the people shout hearts throb 



1 It will be observed that the above was written 

 in the year 1833, when Mr. Sadler's Dangerous was 

 a favourite for the Derby stakes, which he won. 



