them, and intend training. The minor events of
the meeting, such as the Hack Stakes, Cheroot
Stakes, and Pony Races, are nearly all confined
to the genus of which Mr.Tomkins is a type.

Things go on smoothly, with here and there
the occasional absence of a horse for a week or
two; but the break-downs are not so frequent as
might be supposed from the hard sandy nature of
the soil they take their gallops on. At about the
commencement of December (the races having
been fixed for the 20th), a fresh excitement takes
place. Owners commence taking trials out of
their horses by timing them. These trials are
generally made openly, in the presence of a
large number of spectators, it being universally
understood that none but the owner and his
servants are to attempt to ascertain the time of
the horse under trial; and as it is impossible for a
looker-on to gain information from seeing a horse
galloping, no one but the owner is the wiser.

The meeting is to extend over a week, racing
being on every alternate day. This is to allow
time for the lotteries to be held. On the day
prior to the first day's racing there is a monster
tiffin at one of the mess-houses, and, after the
cloth has been removed, the lotteries on the
races of the first day of the meeting commence.
It is by means of these lotteries alone that an
owner is enabled to back his horse, or to stand to
win any more than the actual stakes, as there is
seldom or ever any betting. The lotteries are
carried on upon a principle entirely Indian.
There is a lottery to each race. Each ticket is
priced two rupees, and, after all the numbers
have been taken, two vases, one containing the
names of the horses that are going to run,
together with some blanks, the other containing
all the numbers of the tickets taken in the
lottery, are placed upon the table. The drawer
plunges his hand into the vase containing the
numbers of the lottery, takes out a ticket, and
calls the number marked on it; he then draws
from the other vase; and should the paper
drawn contain the name of a horse, the person
who has taken that number in the lottery is
considered to have drawn the horse named.
After all the horses have been drawn, the horse
first drawn is put up to auction, and the highest
bidder pays the amount he has bid for the horse
to the lottery, and a like amount to the person
who drew it. Of course, should the drawer be
of a speculative turn, and consider the horse's
chance a good one, and intend buying him in,
he has double the advantage of the rest of the
bidders, having only to pay the amount he bids
to the lottery; but very few, besides owners,
care to do this, as they really can know little
about the animals, and are content to have a
safe win of the amount bid for the horse they
have drawn. There is sometimes great
competition between the owners of horses, each trying
to obtain the horse of the opponent whom he
deems most dangerous. And great pots are
frequently upset, by an owner selling for a small
price a horse he has drawn—which horse
ultimately wins the race—and buying in for a
large price one which he imagines will win, and
which does not. The man who has purchased
at the lottery the name of the horse that wins,
gains the lottery. It will be seen that a very
pretty little sum can be frequently obtained in
this manner. Supposing the lotteries to have
filled to the number of five hundred tickets,
that six horses start, and that the average price
obtained at the sale of the horses is three
hundred rupees, there will be a sum-total of two
thousand eight hundred rupees for the lucky
purchaser of the winning horse.

As there are several "weight for age" and
"weight for inches" races, the afternoon of the
day previous to the first day's racing is fixed for
ageing and measuring. During the afternoon a
great number of visitors arrive from the small
stations near the cantonment, all intent upon
enjoying themselves at the races, and balls,
parties, pic-nics, and so forth, that are sure to
follow. The waste ground round about the
course is studded with tents of all kinds and
descriptions. All the messes are crammed, at
one or two of the larger houses dinner-parties are
given, and all seem intent upon enjoying
Christmas as much as if they were in Old England.

A good hour before daylight the " dwellers in
tents" are aroused by the continuous war of the
multitude, already on their way to the course.
Natives are excessively fond of amusement, and
even the stingiest Brahmin will go miles to see
a samasha. Servants are running about, carrying
coffee and articles of apparel, and nearly all
have their heads tied up in cloths, so that only
their eyes and noses are visible, the morning
air being chilly. The morning breaks as if the
whole place had been suddenly lighted with gas,
and the grand stand rapidly begins to fill. At six
a trumpet sounds, " boot and saddle" (for there
is no bell), and one by one the competitors for
the "Derby"—the first race of the day—may
be seen emerging from their rubbing-sheds. The
first to make his appearance is Black Diamond,
a perfect picture of an Arab; he is so round
that he would almost lead you to suppose he
was too fat to race, but it you felt him you
would find him as hard as a cricket-ball, and
without a particle of adipose matter. It is his
round barrel that gives him his fleshy appearance.
The collector is walking beside him,
giving his jockey final instructions. "I don't
want him to win," he says, " if the Marquis can,
for he has to run again in the race after next;
but if you see the Marquis holding out signals,
let him out and try to do the trick. Now give him
a canter, and let's see how he goes." The Marquis
soon makes his appearance; he is a bright bay,
rather leggy, and his quarters are by no means
filled with muscle. He is too young for this
work. Arabs ought never to be raced until they
arrive at maturity; but the collector is very
sweet on him. He is giving elaborate instructions
in Tamil to the native jockey, who will
have cast them all to the winds in the first
hundred yards. He is a good lad for riding the
horses at their gallops, but can't keep his head
in a race. He sets the bay going, and well he
does go too, bringing his hind legs well under