_Trickster (setting up his table and jerking his cards about)._ I'm afther losin' a pony to thim robbers beyant, but, as Pierpont Rockafeller said to Jawn D. Morgan, "business is business, an' if ye don't speculate ye won't accumulate." Spot the dame and my money's yours; spot the blank and yours is mine. "The quickness of the hand deceives the eye, or vicy-versy," as Lord Carnegie remarked to Andrew Rothschild. Walk up, walk up, my sporty gintlemen and thry yer luck wid the owld firm. _Farmer._ There go the harses down to the post. Who's that leadin' on the black? _Dealer._ Young Misther Darley, no less. 'Tis a great fella for all kinds of divarsion he is, the same. I was beyant to Darleystown this week past and found him fightin' a main o'cocks before the fire in his grandmother's drawin'-room. Herself riz up off her bed and gave the two of us the father and mother of a dhrubbin' wid her crutch, an' she desthroyed wid the gout an' all. _Farmer._ 'Tis herself has the great heart. Hey! that's never Clancy goin' down on the owld foxey mare? Faith, it's sorra a ha'porth cud she course or lep these fifteen years. _Dealer._ Lep, is ut? Shure she'll spring out like a birrd an' fear no foe by dint of the two bottles of potheen she has taken an' the couple o' lads Clancy has stationed at ivvery jump to let a roar at her an' hearthen her wid the sthroke of an ash-plant as she comes at ut. _First Country Boy._ Arrah, they're off, they're away! _Second Country Boy._ Thin let us down to the big double, avic, and be the grace of God we'll see a corpse. _Girl in Brown (hopping from one foot to the other)._ Can you see Freddy, Uncle George? Is he in front? I'm sure he is. He hasn't fallen, has he? He won't fall, will he? I'm sure he will. I do hope he'll win; I _know_ he won't. The jumps look frightful, and I'm certain he'll break his darling neck. Oh, where _is_ he, Uncle George? _Uncle George._ Here, take my field-glasses. _Girl in Brown._ I can't see, I can't see. _Uncle George (drily)._ Try looking through them the other way round. _Beshawled Crone (towing an aged beggar-man who wears a framed placard reminding the public that "charity covers a multitude of sins," and announcing that the bearer is not only "teetotally" deaf and dumb, but also blind, barmy and partially paralysed)._ May God's blessin' and the blessin's of all the howly Saints an' Martyrs be on ye, and would ye spare a little copper for a poor owld sthricken crature an' I'll pray for ye this night an' ivvery night of me life? _Girl in Brown._ Give her a shilling, Uncle George, and tell her to pray for Freddy _now_. [Uncle George _does the needful_. _Beggar-man (miraculously recovering his speech)._ Whist! Was that a shillin' he gave ye? That makes ten ye have now, thin. Bun like a hare an' put ut on Acrobat at the best ye can get. _Farmer._ Clancy leads be a length.