3 2 4 KINGSCLERE 



both libeller and libelled and warm-hearted, wrong-headed 

 Dr. Shorthouse himself, with other parties to the transac- 

 tion, have joined the majority, the matter has become 

 historical. 



1 Numerous as have been the occasions on which we 

 have pointed a moral or adorned a tale by a reference to 

 some bright example (unhappily rare) of nobility and 

 uprightness, of honesty, straightforwardness, and sports- 

 manlike conduct, thank God we have never been unwarily 

 betrayed into citing the name of Sir Joseph Scratchhawley. 



1 Life on the Turf is proverbially one of ups and downs. 

 Its losses, as a rule, far exceed its gains, and if, therefore, 

 little men, or needy ones, descend occasionally to rascali- 

 ties, and milk, and rope, and cheat, and lie, and thieve 

 their way to winning a handicap now and then, it is to be 

 greatly deplored, but scarcely to be wondered at. What 

 can then be said for the spoilt darling of the Turf, the 

 little Jack Horner of the racing world, who has not only 

 put in his thumb and pulled out one plum, but has had a 

 whole grocer's shop full of plums fall to his share, and yet 

 tries all he can to bespatter his ancient name, before, in the 

 course of nature, he is compelled to resign his seat in the 

 Jockey Club, and his place in the Steward's Stand to a 

 better man, 



t • • • § 



' Sir Joseph Scratchhawley . . . might, if he chose, get 

 drunk every night of the year out of a different cup won 

 by the representatives of his stable ; and yet his soul 

 craves for something more. He already loathes the flesh- 

 pots of Egypt. The noble ambition of carrying off a 

 coveted prize, or of leading back to the scales the winner 

 of the Blue Riband amid the acclamation of thousands, 

 begins already to pall upon his satiated palate ; and he 

 casts a longing eye on the gate-money milk cans, and 

 the corpses of the boiled, the stiff, and the dead, that taint 

 the atmosphere of the ring. 



1 Among other eccentricities of popular opinion, there 

 is no jacket among the silks and satins of the Turf that 

 the public more eagerly support, or for which they more 

 vehemently applaud a victory, than that of Sir Joseph 

 Scratchhawley. But the fiat has gone forth, and Sir 

 Joseph has decreed that the confiding public shall no 



