372 SPORTING STORIES 



Peters looked at the name on the ticket and read 

 " Doncaster," Now whether he thought of his wife's 

 dream, and the peculiar coincidence influenced him, or 

 whether it was done in a spirit of pure speculation, it 

 would be useless to inquire ; but his reply was, " All right, 

 sir, there's the guinea, and if nobody will have it I'll keep 

 it ; not but what I feel sure that Kaiser will win." 



The ticket was at once transferred to him, and he 

 actually offered it to several gentlemen, who promptly 

 refused it. When the great day arrived, and James 

 Merry's horse was declared the winner, to the great 

 astonishment and consternation of a good many people, 

 Mr Peters had the satisfaction of pocketing 150 sovereigns. 



There seems to have been something very peculiar and 

 ominous about this horse Doncaster, for Mrs Peters was 

 not the only person whose slumbers he invaded. On the 

 Sunday morning previous to the Derby the wife of a 

 costermonger — Timson by name — woke the partner of her 

 bed by singing out lustily, " The boy in yaller wins the 

 day." Ned Timson, who had been bawling mackerel all 

 the previous day and had been taking the hoarseness out 

 of his throat the previous night with sundry pots of four 

 ale, wild at being aroused out of his refreshing slumbers, 

 gave her a thump, and told her to shut up. When they 

 were both awake he asked her what she meant by kicking 

 up that row. Then she told him that she had dreamed 

 she was on Epsom Downs, and had seen a jockey in 

 yellow pass all the other horses, and everybody shouted 

 " The boy in yaller wins the day ! " 



" That, you know, Ned, was a song my mother used to 

 sing when she was a girl. If there's a jockey in yaller I'd 

 put a bit on him, if I was you." 



" Shut up your silly mug," growled Ned, who put as 

 little confidence in dreams as did our friend the steward. 



But these sceptical gentlemen are sometimes not quite 

 so sceptical as they would fain make believe; and when Mr 

 Edward Timson, who was a bit of a sporting man in his 

 way, saw the horses taking their preliminary canter, and 

 one of the jockeys dressed in yellow — James Merry's 

 colours — he clapped all the money he had in his pocket — 



