Field at large, all of them, for really the odds
seemed very remarkable. But he did not accede to my wishes, and
continued to shout in rather a discourteous manner. Once, too, when I
had won some money, I lost it all on the way back, at a simple sort of
game of cards, not nearly so complex and difficult as whist. One need
only to say which of three cards, in the dealer's hand, was the card
one had chosen. Yet here I was finally unsuccessful, though fortunate
at first, and I am led to suppose that some kind of sleight of hand
had been employed; or, perhaps, that the card of my choice had in some
manner been smuggled away. However, once on a racecourse I saw a horse
which I fancied on his merits. He looked very tall and strong, and was
of a pretty colour, also he had a nice tail. He was hardly mentioned
in the betting, and I got "on" at seventy to one, very reasonable
odds. I backed him then, and he won, with great apparent ease, for his
jockey actually seemed to be holding him in, rather than spurring him
in the regrettable way which you sometimes see. But when I went to
look for the person with whom I had made my bet, I was unable to find
him anywhere, and I have never met him since. He had about him ten
pounds, the amount of my bet, which he had insisted on receiving as
a deposit, "not necessarily for publication," he said, "but as a
guarantee of good faith." Race-courses are crowded, confusing places,
and I doubt not, that so scrupulous a man was also looking for me.
But we have never met. If this meets his eye, probably he will send a
cheque for L700 to the office of _Mr. Punch_. I have often regretted
the circumstance, as it was my most fortunate _coup_ on the Turf, and
above all, reflected credit on my judgment of a horse.

Conversing afterwards with a friend on this event, I expressed
surprise that _my_ horse had not been a favourite, considering his
agreeable exterior.

"Why, you Juggins," he answered, "_Rumtifoo_ was a moral--everybody
knew _that_; but everybody knew he wasn't meant; he was being kept
for the Polehampton Stakes. He only won because he got the better of
little BOTHERBY, his jockey, who couldn't hold him. Why, the crowd
nearly murdered him, and his master sacked him on the spot--the little
idiot!"

I do not quite understand this explanation. Poor _Rumtifoo was_
"moral," like the "moral mare" mentioned by ARISTOTLE in the _Ethics_.
He did his best to win, and he did win; what else can you ask fo