100 SPORTING STORIES 



In these cases there is nothing better than good fruity 

 sherry. Well, I felt so anxious about the Prince that 1 

 wrote to Dr Jenner at once, and asked him to let the Prince 

 have some good fruity sherry, home-brewed beer, and oat- 

 meal gruel ; and here is the answer, which you see is dated 

 from Sandringham : — ' M. M. Hozman has been desired by 

 Sir William Jenner to acknowledge the receipt of Mr 

 Thomas Coleman's letter, and to inform him that his 

 suggestion, with a large number of those proposed by 

 others, regarding the treatment of H.R.H. the Prince of 

 Wales' illness, will be laid before all the physicians in 

 attendance.' Within three days the newspapers said that 

 His Royal Highness had taken some sherry and home- 

 brewed beer, that he had revived, and better symptoms 

 had appeared." 



That is a nut for the teetotallers to crack. 



Tommy Coleman was a downy old card ; he was up to 

 every move on the board, and never failed to look after 

 number one, as the following story proves. He had 

 bought for a song a vicious brute of a horse with a mouth 

 as hard as flint, but a splendid-looking animal, and a 

 demon to go, for he ran away with everyone who attempted 

 to mount him. A Hunters' Stakes were to be run at 

 Enfield, and Squire Osbaldeston had signified his intention 

 of riding. Now Tommy wanted a mare named Harriet to 

 win, and mounted the Squire upon the hunter, which had 

 the misnomer of Sober Robin. "How am I to ride?" 

 asked Osbaldeston. " I aways ride to orders, then nobody 

 can say I ought to have ridden differently." "Jump off, 

 set the others going, then pull Sober Robin gently back," 

 said Tommy, well knowing that to obey the first part of 

 the instruction would be to render the rest impossible. 

 The moment the hunter felt the spurs he was off like mad, 

 scattering everything right and left, and going on the 

 wrong sides of the posts half a dozen times over. The 

 consequence was that, as Tommy had foreseen, Harriet 

 was declared the winner. With the coolest and most 

 brazen effrontery he accosted the Squire, who was foaming 

 with rage, before he could get out a word. "You didn't 

 ride him as I told you, sir." "You d d scoundrel, you 



