ear, in America, Mr. Lorillard caused Parole, then a
two-year-old, to be beaten by one of his stable-companions and one
decidedly his inferior. When this sort of thing is done the ring makes a
great uproar about it, but without reason, for there can be no question
of an owner's right to save his best horse, if he can, from a future
overweight by winning with another not so good. Only he ought frankly to
declare his intention to do so before the race.

The autumn stakes that rank next in importance to the Omnium are known
as the Prix Royal Oak, open, like its counterpart, the St. Leger of
Doncaster, to colts and fillies of three years only, with an unloading
of three pounds for the latter. On this occasion one will have an
opportunity of seeing again in the Bois de Boulogne the contestants of
the great prizes of the spring. The Royal Oak is nearly always won by a
horse of the first class, and in the illustrious list may be found the
names of Gladiateur and of four winners of the French Derby--Patricien,
Boiard, Kilt and Jongleur.

In October, Longchamps is deserted for Chantilly, where the trials of
two-year-olds take place--the first criterion for horses, the second
criterion for fillies--the distance in these two races being eight
hundred metres, or half a mile. The Grand Criterion, for colts and
fillies, has a distance of double this, or one mile (sixteen hundred
metres). Since their debuts in August at Caen and Deauville the young
horses have had time to harden and to show better what they are made of;
and it is in the Grand Criterion that one looks for the most certain
indications of their future career. The names of the winners will be
found to include many that have afterward become celebrated, such as Mon
Etoile, Stradella, Le Bearnais, Mongoubert, Sornette, Revigny and
others.

Chantilly is the birthplace of racing in France. In the winter of
1833--the same year which also witnessed the foundation of the Jockey
Club--Prince Labanoff, who was then living at Chantilly, and who had
secured the privilege of hunting in the forest, invited several
well-known lovers of the chase to join him in the sport. Tempted by the
elasticity of the turf, it occurred to the hunters to get up a race, and
meeting at the Constable's Table--a spot where once stood the stump of a
large tree on which, as the story goes, the constable of France used to
dine--they improvised a race-course which has proved the prolific mother
of the trac