In the interests of law and order on the turf, the honest bookmaker should be licensed by the Jockey Club, and by the exhibition of a blue ribbon in his buttonhole, or some other mark of identification, be able to present himself to those desirous of betting as a person who would at once pay whatever amount he bargained to lose. These modes of dealing with the honest and dishonest betting men are obviously logical; at any rate, the hints given afford a foundation for action of the kind indicated, that it is surprising they have not already been acted upon. The Jockey Club at the present time takes no official cognisance of disputed bets, that part of the business of racing being left to a committee of Tattersall's; but this inaction on the part of the Club is a blunder. It will be well for them to form a tribunal to deal with all disputes about bets--a tribunal which would give a prompt and, above all things, a logical decision, and so carry on from precedent to precedent. The present laws of betting are much in need of overhauling; indeed, to use an old phrase, they require "a new stock, lock, and barrel." ASSUMED NAMES; JOCKEYS AND THEIR COMMISSIONERS; AND OTHER MATTERS. Whether or not assumed names should be permitted in racing has been more than once submitted to the consideration of the Jockey Club. Persons, it is said, who are ashamed to run horses in their own name ought not to be "on the turf." The admission of assumed names is, however, a feature of turf economy which carries its own condemnation, and need not be wrangled over. In reality the bearers of such names are known to their turf contemporaries, and as assumed names do not save them from being liable to the pains and penalties of wrongdoing, should they do wrong, why they should wear a mask is difficult to understand. Some little inquiry into this matter was at one time made by the writer. "Why is it," he asked a famous racing critic, "that Brown does not race under his own name?" "Oh, don't you know? His father is old Vellum, the dissenting bookseller of Ave Marie Street, and it would never do to let it be known that his son is on the turf." "And Jones; how comes he to sail under false colours?" "Well, you see, his father is an ecclesiastical tailor, a purveyor of robes to the clergy, and likes the sport; but for obvious reasons does not appear himself as a racing man, and so young Mr. Chasuble is 'on the turf' as Mr. Harry Jones." "Just so. And Robinson--who is he?" "Robinson is said to be a wholesale dealer in decayed horses."