Did you ever Drive a Jibber down to a Fight? 259 



gigs, cabs, go-carts, or on horseback, making no more secret or 

 mystery of their mission than if they were going to a race or a 

 fair. 



I reached old Alma Mater about eight P.M., and as I was a 

 perfect stranger in the good old town I asked the first policeman I 

 chanced to meet whether he could recommend me to a snug little 

 second-rate sporting inn where I could put up for the night, and 

 hire a horse for the next day ? He at once directed me to a little 

 inn in Trumpington-street, which he said was just the sort of house 

 to suit me, kept by a landlord of the right sort, where he told me 

 I could hire a horse, and, moreover, hear all the news respecting the 

 next day's proceedings. On riding into the inn-yard I met the 

 landlord, and found him just what the policeman had described. 

 He knew all about the fight ; agreed directly to let me have a 

 saddle-horse for the morning ; and said he would have gone down 

 himself, but the Newmarket October Meeting was then on, and he 

 was anxious to be there. After seeing my horse located in a very 

 snug loose box, I turned to go into the inn with the landlord, who, 

 on leaving the stable, bid the ostler be sure and have the " Capten's 

 dog-cart" all clean and neat in the morning, as the "Capten" was 

 going to drive him down to the races in it. The " Capten's dog- 

 cart," however, as the reader will presently see, was destined for a 

 journey of quite another kind on the morrow. 



I found every room in the little inn crowded with racing men. 

 The day's racing at Newmarket, of course, formed the sole topic of 

 conversation ; and during the whole of my tea, disjointed sentences, 

 such as " collared him at the bushes," "came away from him over 

 the flat," " give him three pound and a beating," floated on my ear. 

 After tea I lit a cigar, proposing to myself to have a stroll round 

 the old town j but just as I was walking out of the gateway of the 

 inn, I ran against two men, both of whom I well knew, one being 

 no less a personage than the " Capten," the proprietor of the dog 

 cart then standing in the yard. " Halloa ! what are you doing 

 here ? Come in and have a glass of brandy-and-water. I have not 



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