SIXTY YEARS ON THE TURF 



able chance. The place of meeting was in the Isle 

 of Thanet, in which pleasant south-eastern corner of 

 England I was born and reared. Like most boys of 

 the age mentioned I had a fair opinion of my 

 sharpness, and for an attempt at displaying the 

 same I received on my way to the course a smart 

 cuff over the ears. This was the reward of warning 

 one I took to be a yokel against yielding to the 

 fascinations of the insidious game known, and sixty 

 years ago constantly practised at all race meetings, 

 as " pricking the garter." The to my mind victim 

 turned out to be a confederate, and instead of 

 thanking me he gave me a tingling smack on the 

 side of the head, accompanying the physical rebuke 

 with a verbal warning that in future perhaps I 

 would mind my own business ; not, as I aflerwards 

 thought, half bad advice. 



Between the adjuncts of race courses then and 

 now there is little or no comparison. Tlu: rough 

 and the roguish element at that time was tlie pre- 

 dominant characteristic. The three c;; tiick, 

 thimble-rigging, and pricking the garter w.. games 

 of petty swindling that though not recogi were 



more or less tolerated, the operators even ing a 



distinctive dress of nankeens and velvet c while 



they unblushingly carried their tables on t eads. 



At popular open resorts I know there sti o be 



10 



