There were not many spectators about, and only a few noticed
that, while the mare was fighting for her head, she was suddenly pulled
until she reared up, lost her place, and reached the post about seventh
in a large field. The jockey who rode the mare, and who made her exhibit
circus gambols, received a thousand pounds from the owner of the winning
horse. Now, there was no disguise about this transaction--nay, it was
rather advertised than otherwise, and a good many of the sporting prints
took it quite as a matter of course. Why? Simply because no prominent
racing man raked up the matter judicially, and because the ordinary Turf
scramblers accept suspicious proceedings as part of their environment.
Mr. Carlyle mourned over the deadly virus of lying which was emitted by
Loyola and his crew; he might mourn now over the deadly virus of
cheating which is emitted from the central ganglia of the Turf. The
upright men who love horses and love racing are nearly powerless; the
thieves leaven the country, and they have reduced what was once the
finest middle-class in the world to a condition of stark putridity.
Before we can rightly understand the degradation which has befallen us
by reason of the Turf, we must examine the position of jockeys in the
community.
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