carried on with still self-restraint, and
their gossip is the ordinary polished triviality of the country-house
and drawing-room. But what can be said of the beings who crowd the
betting-ring? They are indeed awful types of humanity, fitted to make
sensitive men shudder. Their yells, their profanity, their low cunning,
their noisy eagerness to pounce upon a simpleton, their infamous
obscenity, all combine to make them the most loathsome collection of
human beings to be found on the face of the broad earth.

Observe that all of this betting crew appear to be what is called
rolling in money. They never do a stroke of useful work; they merely
howl and make bets--that is their contribution to the prosperity of the
State. Yet they are dressed with vulgar richness, they fare sumptuously,
and they would not condescend to taste any wine save the finest
vintages; they have servants and good horses, and in all ways they
resemble some rank luxurious growth that has sprung from a putrid soil.
Mark that these bookmakers, as they are called, are not gentlemen in
any sense of the word; some of them are publicans, some look like
prize-fighters, some like promoted costermongers, some like common
thieves. There is not a man in the company who speaks with a decently
refined accent--in short, to use plain terms, they are the scum of the
earth. Whence then comes the money which enables them to live in riotous
profusion? The explanation is a sad one, and I trust that these words
may warn many young people in time. Here is the point to be weighed
upon--these foul-mouthed persons in the betting-ring are able to travel
about all spring, summer, and autumn, staying in the best hotels and
lacking nothing; in winter they can loll away their time in
billiard-rooms. Once more, who supplies the means? It is the senseless
outside public who imagine they know something about "sport."

Every town in England contains some centre--generally a public-house or
a barber's shop--where men meet to make wagers; the evil influence of
the Turf is almost everywhere apparent, for it is probable that at least
two millions of men are interested in betting. London swarms with vile
clubs which are merely gambling saloons; professional men, tradesmen,
clerks, and even artizans crowd into these horrid holes, and do business
with the professional gamblers. In London alone there are some
half-dozen papers published daily which are entirely devoted to "sport,"
and these j