The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1839-11-12 00:00:00

MR. MALONE'S ADVENTURES-A DAY IN THE

PH ENIX.

" Well, sir," began he, "it is about four months I
brought np to Dublin from Galway a little chesnut mare,
with cropped ears and a short tail, square-jointed and rather
low—just what you'd call a smart hack for going to cover
with—a lively thing on the road with a light weight. Nobody
ever suspected that she was a clean bred thing—own sister to
Jenny, that won the Corinthians, and ran second to Giles for
the Riddlesworth—but so she was, and a better bred mare
never leaped the pound in Ballinasloe. Well, I brought her
to Dublin, and used to ride her out two or three times a
week, making little matches sometimes to trot—and for a
thorough-bred she was a clipper at trotting—to trot a mile
or so on the grass—another day to gallop the length of the
nine acres opposite the Lodge—and then sometimes, back
her for a ten pound note, to jump the biggest furze bush that
could be found—all of wh' 7h she could do with ease, nobody
thinking, all the while, ti at, the cock-tailed pony was out of
Scroggins, by a " Lamplighter mare." As every fellow
that was beat to-day was sure to come back to-morrow, with
something better, either of his own or a friend's, I had
matches booked for every day in the week—for I always
made a little boy that rode, win by half a neck, or a nostril,
so we kept on day after day pocketing from ten to thirty
pounds or thereabouts.
" It was mighty pleasant while it lasted, for besides win-
ning the money I had my own fun laughing at the spoonies
that never could book my bets fast enough.—Young infantry
officers and the junior bar—they were for the most part
mighty nice to look at, but very raw about racing. How
long I might have gone on this way I cannot say ; but one
morning I fell in with a fat, elderly gentleman, in shorts and
gaiters, mounted on a dun cob pony, that was very fidgety
and hot-tempered, and appeared to give the rider a great
deal of uneasiness.
" He's a spicy hack you're on, Sir,' said I, ' and has ago
in him, I'll be bound.'
" I ray they think he has,' said the old gentleman, half
testily.
" ' And can trot a bit, too.'
" 'Twelve Irish miles in 50 minutes, with my weight.'
Here he looked down at a paunch like a sugar hogshead.
" ' May be be's not bad across a country,' said. I, rather
to humour the old fellow, who, I saw, was proud of his
pony.
" I'd like to see his match, that's all.' Here he gave
a rather contemptuous glance at my hack.
" Well, one word led to another, and it ended at last in
our booking a match, with which one party was no less
pleased than the other. It was this ; each was to ride his
own horse, starting from the school in the park, round the
Fifteen Acres, outside the Monument, and back to the start
—just one heat, about a mile and a half--the ground good,
and only soft enough. In consideration, however, of his
greater weight, I was to give odds in the start ; and as we
could not well agree on how much, it was at length decided
that he was to get away first, and I to follow as fast as I
could, after drinking a pewter quart of Guinness's double
stout—droll odds, you'll say, but it was the old fellow's own
thought, and as the match was a soft one I let him have his
way.

The next morning the Phoenix was crowded as if for a re-
view. There were all the Dublin notorieties, swarming in
barouches, and tilburies, and outside jaunting cars—smart
clerks in the Post-office, mounted upon kicking devils from
Dycer's and Lalouette's stables—attorney's wives and daugh-
ters from York-street, and a stray doctor or so on a hack
that looked as if it had been lectured on for the six winter
months at the College of Surgeons. My antagonist was half
an hour late, which time I occupied in booking bets on every
bide of me—offering odds of ten, fifteen, and at last to tempt
the people, twenty-five against the dun. At last the fat
gentleman came up on a jaunting car, followed by a groom
leading the cob. I wish you heard the cheer that greeted
him on his arrival, for it appeared he was a well-known
character in town, and much in favour with the mob. When
he got off the car, he bundled into a tent, followed by a few of
his friends, where they remained about five minutes, at the end
of which he came out in full racing costume—blue and yel-
low striped jacket, blue cap and,feathers—looking as funny
a figure as ever you set eyes upon. I now thought it time to
throw off my white surtout, and show out in pink and orange,
the colors I bad been winning in for two months past. While
some of the party were sent on to station themselves at diffe-
rent places round the Fifteen Acres, to mark out the course,
my fat friend was assisted into his saddle, and he gave a
short preliminary gallop of about a hundred yards or so
that set us all a-laughing. The odds were now fifty to
one in my favour, and I gave them wherever I could find
takers. ' With you, Sir, if you please, in pounds, and the
gentleman in the red whiskers, too, if he likes—very well, in
half sovereigns, if you prefer it.' So I went on betting on
every side till the bell rang to mount. As I knew 1 had
plenty of time to spare, I took little notice, and merely giv-
ing a look to my girths, I continued leisurely booking my bets.
At last the time came, and at the word Away !' off went the
fat gentleman on the dun, at a spluttering gallop, that flung
the mud on every side of us, and once more threw us all a-
laughing. I waited patiently till be got near the upper end
of the Park, taking bets every minute ; and now that he was
away, every one offered to wager. At last, when I had let
him get nearly half round, and found no more money could be
had, I called out to his friends for the porter, and throwing
myself into the saddle, gathered up the reins in my hand.
The crowd fell back on each side, while from the tent I have
already mentioned, out came a thin fellow with one eye, with
a pewter quart in his hand : he lifted it up towards me, and
I took it ; but what was my fright to find that the
porter was boiling, and the vessel so hot I could hardly
hold it. I endeavoured to drink, however : the first
mouthful took all the skin off my lips and tongue—the
second half choked, and the third nearly threw me into
an apoplectic fit—the mob cheering all the time like devils.
Meantime, the old fellow had reached the furze, and was
going along like fun. Again I tried the porter, and a fit of
coughing came on that lasted five minutes. The pewter was
now so hot that the edge of the quart took away a piece of
my mouth at every effort. I ventured once more, and with
the desperation of a madman I threw down the hot liquid to
its last drop. • My head reeled—my eyes glared—and my
brain was on fire. I thought I beheld fifty fat gentlemen
galloping on every side of me, and all the sky raining jackets
in blue and yellow. Half mechanically I took the reins, and
put spurs to my horse ; but before I got well away, a loud
cheer from the crowd assailed me. I turned and saw the
dun coming in at a floundering gallop, 'covered with foam,
and so dead blown that' neither himself nor the rider could
have got twenty yards farther. The race was, however, won.
My odds were lost to every man on the field, and worse than
all, I was so laughed at, that I could not venture out in the
streets, without hearing allusions to my misfortune.—Con-
fessions of Harry Lorrequer, in the University Magazine
for November.