As I said the races on this course are fairly conducted, and the best horse, or the best jockey, actually wins. But there is as much rascality here as on an American course, and I can't say more than that. Under the grand stand is the "betting ring," in which the book-makers stand. These are flashy gentlemen, with tall hats of painful newness, and diamonds of unearthly size and luster, which gives one a comforting assurance of solvency. These men take bets at the market rates. Thus, the betting that morning was three to one on "Peregrine." Now in America the betting ring is under the control of the association owning the track; but it is not so here, as any number of Americans discovered. They had faith in "Iroquois," and "laid" their money on him freely. One gentleman of my acquaintance deposited ninety pounds sterling with a book-maker, and was consequently entitled to two hundred and seventy pounds sterling, as his horse won. In great glee he hied himself to the ring, after the race, to collect his winnings. He hied himself back to the carriage sadly. Had "Peregrine" won the race the book-maker would, unquestionably, have been there and received the gentleman smilingly; but as "Iroquois" won, he folded his tent, like the Arab, and as silently stole away. None of them were to be found. Smarting under the sense of wrong, the American told his story to the party on the way home, and he was pitied or laughed at, according to the temper of his listener, quite a number laughing at more than pitying him. One gentleman laughed at him fearfully, but before we had got half way home, he broke out with "D--n the swindling scoundrel." [Illustration: THE BETTING RING.] "To what swindling scoundrel do you refer?" "That blank, blank, swindling devil of a book-maker!" "Oh! oh! you were taken in, were you?" joyously exclaimed victim No. 1. "Of course, I was, thirty pounds sterling!" "And you were laughing at me." And then one after another confessed to have been bitten the same way, and upon getting all the confessions in, it was discovered that one carriage had deposited to the credit of a set of London sharks three hundred pounds sterling, or fifteen hundred dollars. I lost nothing, for I do not bet upon horses now, for reasons stated at the beginning of this epistle, which shows that perfect safety is only found in complete virtue. [Illustration: "D--N THE SWINDLING SCOUNDREL."] [Sidenote: ON THE WAY HOME.]