134 THE BLUE RIBBON OF THE TURF. 



was groat fun over a tip for the Grand National 

 Steeplechase, A well-known writer on turf matters 

 said he would eat a certain horse if it won the race, 

 and he was in the fulness of time put to shame by 

 its victory. That tipster, as may well be supposed, 

 was most unmercifull}' chaffed. 



It may be accepted as a rule that public tipsters 

 * follow the money ' in making their selections, or, at 

 all events, select horses which are sure to be backed 

 and in time settle down as favourites. It has been 

 affirmed by some persons of certain tipsters, that they 

 write in the interest of bookmakers, and give horse 

 after horse that has no chance of winning, so that 

 infatuated turf gamblers may back them. These 

 writers have plenty of time to do so, as in many cases 

 the race is not run for several weeks after the entries 

 are published. Such accusations, however, must be 

 received with the proverbial pinch of salt ; but 

 probably, from the persistent way in which they are 

 reiterated, there is more than a grain of truth in 

 them. 



With what a wonderful scream of delight some 

 hysterical members of the sporting press rend the air 

 when they are so fortunate as to find themselves 

 correct in naming the winner of an important handi- 

 cap or some classic race. Be sure, in such an event, 

 that in the next number of their journal they will fill 

 nearly a column by quoting every favourable line 

 they have written about the horse since it made its 

 first appearance on the turf Upon one occasion, the 

 editor of a weekly sporting jor.rnal had the impudence 

 to propose that his readers should subscribe to present 



