THE GREENWAY COURSING MEETING 175 



having been put up as judge in the absence of my good and 

 respected friend, Mr. Long, who had been acting for you. Mr. 

 Lawi-ence's Lark and Mr. Esdaile's Pretty Widow were in the 

 sHps ; it was late in the day and not much ground before us ; 

 and they had a very short course, if I remember rightly, nothing- 

 more than a run up, over a very little extent of ground ; yet 

 that run up, short as it was, gave me to see so vast a superiority, 

 placed where I was, in Mi\ Lawrence's dog's foot over Mr. 

 Esdaile's, that I at once decided the course in Mr. Lawrence's 

 favour. Mr. Esdaile was dissatisfied at being so beaten, and, 

 doubting the correctness of the decision, he made a match on 

 the spot, to be run at the next public meeting on the Deptford 

 Downs. The course then proved my decision to have been just, 

 for Mr. Lawrence's greyhound won the match, as it were, in a 

 canter. I once saw a rough greyhound brought out at the 

 Green way, not entered for any stake, but as it turned out, to 

 seek a match. ^Vhat her owner had done to her coat I cannot 

 tell, but certainly it was the best imitation of dirt, mange, and 

 cutaneous disorder I ever beheld. We all jumped at a match 

 with her, and she beat one of my greyhounds hollow. The 

 chief constable, who was out with us, having his eyes always 

 about him, as a chief constable ever should, saw further between 

 the hairs of the greyhound than we did, and mildly took small 

 bets to any amount of half-crowns, and rejoiced exceedingly, 

 though I thought I saw the frown of office peep from under his 

 hat at the deception the owner of the dog had been guilty of. 

 My greyhound Brenda (she sleeps in the sun by my side now), 

 who won the Oaks at the Greenway, in 1842, for a friend of 

 mine, the first season she came out, ran cunning, after winning, 

 from that very hour. The greyhound of Mr. Lawrence's, whom 

 she beat for that stake, beat her in a match the same day. The 

 course was over the same ground and to the same cover, and 

 Brenda, knowing where the hare was going to, took care always 

 in every turn to wait and be next the wood. From being made 

 a drawing-room pet, she became au fait at everything, would 

 retrieve to the gim both feather and fur, and would walk at my 



