St Leger Day and Denaby Crossing

How is some people hare such an antipathy the St. Leger! It is true that things are done on a racecourse which would better left undone; for instance, the hapless bookie who is ducked can never see that his fate is sort of poetic justice, nor can , the equally unhappy backer be made to understand that when he is welshed he deserves the punishment for booking a winner. But at the same time, and whilst owning to all the evils which obtain on any course you like name, you must also face that such a scene as that to at Doncaster during the present meeting is one of considerable pleasure.

If you bet it is your own outlook: if new consequently lose don’t be foolish to grumble; the same to do is to take Doncaster as it stands and enjoy it. You can do easily enough if you only will. A judge of human nature, man who loves good horseflesh. such a one has a treat in store, and latter could not but experience the thrill of delight that great good Irish colt, the eventual winner the big race of the week, walked coolly and contentedly down the course leading the parade as destined lead the race. Surely never quieter horse was foaled than this.

It was not till our train, an express which stopped at places where there were no stations, and rushed screeching past the platforms, had reached the Denaby Crossing, that those of who were road really felt that we were actually great and noble sportsmen. There we found the Denaby juveniles out by the hundred, and they greeted with enthusiasm which bordered on the vociferous, waved their hands, their caps, even took their coats off, and waved them till there arose feeling of undisguised pleasure that we were hound for Doncaster, destined to take part in a notable function, a piece de resistance. in one scene, viz., “The Canter of Galtee More.” All this unbounded enthusiasm was toned down, however, by the sudden appeal of those youngsters for a penny. All along the line the cry was taken up and the request was acceded to from carriage after carriage, till, as the train steamed off again, left a mass of perspiring, struggling juvenility, pushing and wrestling for the coppers we had left behind. And so to Doncaster