SPORT AND SPORTSMEN ON THE FRENCH COAST. 277 



pretty little course. The principal stand or 

 " tribune " is a canvas-roofed building, with a 

 sort of lawn in front, and some distance behind 

 it the ring is formed by a number of bookmakers, 

 who are already beginning to be musical. At 

 the farther corner of the enclosed space horses 

 are being led about. The two courses, flat and 

 steeplechase, run side by side before the stand, 

 and opposite to it is the water jump, just three 

 times as wide as my umbrella, with the hurdle 

 which does duty for a fence on the ground close 

 by. A big black retriever is jumping about in 

 the puddle, and amusing the people in the few 

 carriages drawn up by the posts opposite the 

 stand. There is no crowd. The stands are 

 tolerably tenanted, and there is a sprinkling of 

 people along the rails, but no hustling and 

 pushing, and the gendarmes in their cocked hats 

 march about with nothing to do except look 

 fierce and military. 



The Tribune du Jury — anglice the judges' 

 box — is a small white and red striped structure, 

 and four gentlemen ascend to the top of it. A 

 cracked bell — M. le Maire will have to see to it 

 before next year — rings out as well as it can. 

 Although as regards power of lung the French 

 bookmakers are to their Enghsh brethren as 

 water is to British brandy, sounds come from 



