A Good Day 45 



the names I found one of the creatures was called Duke 

 of Eichmond. '' Good for the Duke." Which Duke ?— 

 there was a plethora of Dukes, and how was I to dis- 

 criminate ? Only six of the horses named on the card 

 were going to run, I found, and Duke of Eichmond was 

 not one of them. It could not be he, at any rate ; but 

 what was it ? Colours are easily distinguishable by us 

 who know them ; but it takes a perfect stranger a long 

 time to realise what horses in the race correspond to 

 those on the card, and then to fit them on to their 

 numbers. The shouts of the bookmakers also tended to 

 confuse me. There was a yellow jacket and a white cap, 

 only at first I did not notice the cap, and had made that 

 out to be the Duke of Westminster's ; there was a white 

 and light blue hooped jacket — that was clearly the Duke 

 of Beaufort's ; but then there was a cerise and grey 

 sleeved jacket — that must be the Duke of Hamilton's ; 

 and for icluch Duke was it good? I was still pondering 

 in doubt when the flag fell ; something in white got off 

 with such a start that I felt certain the race was over, 

 and that Wennington's " Good for the Duke " was wrong ; 

 but on nearing home the white collapsed, the light blue 

 hoops passed it, and the Duke of Beaufort had won — 

 won anyhow, as even I could see. It was good for the 

 Duke, but it had not been good for me. The other 

 Duke's horse, I may observe, was tailed off, and m}^ only 

 consolation was that things might have been worse, for 

 I might have invested some money on him. 



* It was rather annoying, all the same, for I ought to 

 have started my day with a nice little win ; however, 

 better luck next time, I thought, and after a stroll round 

 to see what was going on, I returned to the spot where 

 I was to meet Wennington. A bell rang, the numbers 



