QUEER CHARACTERS OF THE TURF 77 



"Well," said the list-seller, with a sly grin, "these 

 gen'l'men have been kind enough to bring me all the way 

 from Bedfordshire, and I won't put them to any further 

 trouble. I've got the key, and can unlock the padlock 

 myself. I'm very much obliged to them, indeed, for bring- 

 ing me here just in time for the races." 



The story spread everywhere, and Kilburn was never 

 seen on a course afterwards without somebody calling out, 

 " Hullo, Jack ! where's your padlock and chain ? Any more 

 prison-breaking ? " 



Among the curious characters on the Turf in years gone 

 by was a bookmaker named Richards, or " Short Odds," as 

 he was nicknamed. He made a queer figure on the course, 

 dressed in brown kerseymere breeches, brown drill gaiters, 

 a brown coat, and an old-fashioned jacket called a spencer, 

 and always with a choice flower in his button-hole. The 

 story of Richards's life was a singular one. He began as a 

 stocking-maker, and first took up betting at the door of a 

 cockpit. Being shrewd and lucky, he soon advanced to 

 higher things, and made a book on some of the Northern 

 races, progressing until at last he became a " warm man." 

 But he was exceedingly eccentric in all he did. When 

 going to Newmarket he would drive one horse and lead 

 another behind his gig. One of these was a big brown, 

 17 hands high ; and after going a stage he would change 

 them about, putting them alternately between the shafts. 

 His own corn always went with him in a bag, and a 

 cargo of stockings as well. " Why did he carry a cargo 

 of stockings with him to the race-course ? " did you say ? 

 Well, he always tried to make his clients take out their 

 money in hosiery ! 



" Dicky " was always ready for a bet. " There's old 

 Richards, and if he hasn't come out hunting with an 

 umbrella ! " cried some gentlemen when that worthy put in 

 an appearance at a meet. " And I'll bet you'll not hunt 

 with or without an umbrella at my age," said Dicky, 

 coming up to them. " Who's to hold the stakes ? " asked 

 one. " Oh, there'll be some of you left when I'm gone, 

 perhaps ; we'd leave 'em to him," was the answer. 



Richards was very particular about stale bread ; he used 



