Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1883-07-20

daub, until even my accommodating ''un-
Gle" looked suspicious and hesitating,
and nearly all the resulting cash was put
on horses whose names had been mys-
teriously confided to me as those Of GER
tain winners.
Iw,s not very heavily booked for the
Derby, as it happened, not having much
available cash, and having intended to
put something on" on the day before
the race. An uncomfortable assurance
was with me of impending trouble. l
felt that the crisis OF my fortunes was
close at hand.
Cured, an unexpected something turned
up. 1t came in the person of my friend
Mr.. James O'Hooligan.
Jimmy O'Hooligan was Il bosterous
freshman, very well known in the Bohe-
mia of London at that time. He was n
middle-aged man, of somewhat hand
some appearance, and carrying himself
with military air. He possessed glib
tongue, an amazing fund of anecdote, had
a musical voice and ear, and all the So
cial advantages of one who has kissed the
Stone of Barney. Need l add that jim
my was extremely popular with both the
ladies' aud gentlemen of his acduaint-
ance
He got his living in one of those mys-
ferrous ways common to Bohemia. Some
times he sat as model in the studios of
such artists rs could afford the luxury.
In this way he may have earned good
deal ut times-for models are often very
well paid-and he has figured in many n
character on the walls of Burlington
House.
Jimmy seemed to be known by eve ry-
body. He hung about the newspaper
Offices. partic tlarly those of sporting
character. He was admitted behind the
scenes of theatres. He was on the free
list of every IN sic hall. He knew every
prominent member of "the fancy" and
the p. r., and all over London he was
hailed as cherished friend by publicans
and bar-maids.
These characteristics threw romantic
halo over Jimmy to my young and some
what verdant mind. Moreover, he was
the life and soul of every party he got
among, though rather vulgar, coarse
and disreputable soul, it must be admit
ted. But he was frequent visitor to the
studios of Camden Town, and was quite
one of our free-and-easy fraternity.
1t was the Monday morning before the
Derby, that race, as every one knows, be-
ing run upon a Wednesday. l was sit.
ting in my studio at work, knocking of
one of those thin experiments in color
which took but day to complete, and
upon which "uncle" would advance me
Is shillings or a pound, half of that be-
ing profit or earnings to me. the balance
covering cost of canvas, colors and frame.
me the O'Hooligan.
| EyiIaOt1y fharo uoa comatlipu in tho
wind Jimmy's entrance was dramatical-
ly impressive. Cautiously projecting his
head through the hslf-opened doorway he
asked
care We alone ?"
was, and said so. Then he slid slow
" into the room, like snake, holding
the door as closely as was compatible
: with the passage of his body. Once in
side, he quickly closed the door, and
locked it then he turned and faced me,
standing still, with his back against the
door, and summoning into his face n look
OF intense excitement. He seemed to be
laboring under the pressure of some tre-
mendous secret, which was struggling to
force its way out of him.
Suddenly he crossed the room toward
me with long, slow strides, AMI on tiptoe,
holding up n warning finger the while,
and literally cleaning on me with fixed,
meaning eyes. Laying his hands on my
shoulders he whispered hoarsely:
"Our fortune s nader
Then he stood back and eyed me.
ooh, indeed" said, for knew JIM
my. another straight tip, suppose?''
"Anotl er !" he slrieked "The straight
tip, me bhoy The straightest that liver
there! eighties to wan hundred to
wan and sartn as the fate av sinners ~
l struggled desperately against the
contagion of Jimmys manner, for knew
by experience what it all meant. l said !:
Look here, old man. I've had about
enough of your tips. They never come
of, you know ~
"Ah, now, see here You've been
playin' at bettin'-no more. gave We
tips, It's true, and they didn't come off.
That's partly the reason why I'm givin' We
this, to make up for thin others. I'm in
airnest, this time ~
He was, apparently. His eyes were
dancing and glittering in his head, his
hands demonstrating, and his whole per-
son indicative of eagerness. He could
hardly speak, so strong was his agitation.
l began to feel Il e excitement extending
to myself, aid knew that was destined
" give way W IL.
"See row." he continued. "I've sur
prised wan NV the deadest saycrets nv the
Turf, wan nv the biggest things that's iv-
yer been. l tell We we could make our
fortunes if we'd only enough to put on.
It's plan that's Just goin to make this
Derby the most astoundin' wan liver
run
"No! 1t don't matther how l got it.
can't tell even you that. But sid to me-
self, we've get to keep this thing dark
There's just wan chum ye're goiu' to take
in wild yer. Him and you's goin' in on
this thing, an goin' to do the biggest
shtroke that liver yell git the chance of
yer whole lives I've put ON livery bless
ed penny I'm worth, an here am, me
bhoy!"
1t was no use trying to keep calm. His
excitement mastered me, and IT felt that,
come veal or woe, had to do as he wish
ed. He went on:
"Whisper now-its solemn sacred
saycret between us two, remember that
Did We liver hear av the Makeshift Colt ?
No We didn't, nor nobody else. But
tell We, that's the horse that's goin to win
this years Derby.
80, We needn't look at the lists he's
not in the bettin' at all-not yet, anyway.
They've held that coult back an kept In
as dark's the back of Hades. An now,
thin as is in the saycret, they're goin'
round takin' the odds on the quiet.
"There's no one knows word av it
| outside the stable, barrin' me an you.
The bookmakers'll just give amy odds at
, all about the horse; they don't know his
name yit, even !"
VI And 30 on, and 30 on, till, after an
hours talk was as completely persuaded
as any one could wish, and yielded my
self up entirely to the fever of which
O'Hooligan was the present exponent. l
soon saw that he was thoroughly in earn
est himself, and 1T was not long before l