This is the game on which Englishmen lavish wild hopes, keen
attention, and good money--this is the sport of kings which gluts the
pockets of greedy knaves! A vast city--nay, a vast empire--is partially
disorganized for a day in order that some dwarfish boys may be seen
flogging immature horses during a certain number of seconds, and we
learn that there is something "English," and even chivalrous, in the
foolish wastrel proceedings.
My conceptions of English virtues are probably rudimentary; but I quite
fail to discover where the "nobility" of horse-racing and racecourse
picnicing appears. My notion of "nobility" belongs to a bygone time; and
I was gratified by hearing of one very noble deed at the moment when the
flashy howling mob were trooping forward to that great debauch which
takes place around the Derby racecourse. A great steamer was flying over
a Southern sea, and the sharks were showing their fins and prowling
around with evil eyes. The _Rimutaka_ spun on her way, and all the
ship's company were cheerful and careless. Suddenly a poor crazy woman
sprang over the side and was drifted away by a surface-current; while
the irresistible rush of the steamer could not of course be easily
stayed.
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