50 The Post and the Paddock. 



at the Post Office Hotel. The betting on the Derby 

 is at least five time as great as that on the St. Leger, 

 and while about eight safe men "go" every year on 

 the former, the two or three who have received a heavy 

 blow on the latter, frequently, by the grace of their 

 creditors, contrive to hobble on till the Cesarewitch is 

 past. This race, as well as the Cambridgeshire, for 

 which men in despair seem to play double or quits, 

 has countless victims ; and among those who *'went" 

 in '55, was one who, whenever he heard long odds 

 laid, would offer five points less, and clench it with 

 " You'd better take it ; you know my money's good" — 

 a strange conceit which almost rose to the dignity of 

 a Ring proverb. There are sometimes some strange 

 chases between creditors and debtors at Doncaster. 

 We have seen the latter driving off madly to the sta- 

 tion, after the St. Leger, to catch the first train either 

 way ; and the former, when they have failed to dis- 

 cover the much wished for face in the enclosure, fol- 

 lowing in hot haste. On one occasion a couple met on 

 the platform, and the erring one immediately dashed 

 into the Crimpsall Meadows, and pointed at his best 

 pace for the Conisboro' Woods, where he stayed till 

 nightfall, and then sent an emissary to pay his lodg- 

 ings and bring his carpet-bag. His pursuer expressed 

 strong fears that both of them would be "roarers" for 

 life, in consequence of the severity of the pace up to 

 the Don, where he was beaten off ; and remarked that 

 if the horse could only have gone half as well as his 

 backer, he would have won in a trot. 



A suicide in consequence of Ring-losses is seldom 

 heard of now, but the stricken deer generally levants 

 without coming near the rooms, or else arrives with a 

 forehead of brass, receives all he can, "retires" with 

 his gains without offering to pay, and nods gaily to 

 his creditors when he next meets them. A pan of 

 charcoal or the Serpentine is about the last thing he 

 would dream of ; and even Scrope Davis, who cut his 



