Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1897-08-14


look, seems to be winner.
my boy" is the reply, keep on Of him;
take friends advice and keep on Of Loki.
He's a dead 'un. Won't be heard Of.
Won't be in the running at all. Play Dam
ocles, at 8 to 1: it's a cinch; it's lead
eat my shoes. You play him, now. boy,
and then come and throw some bouquets
at me for putting you on" The lad takes
his "friend's' advice; and when his own
selection, Loki. wins the race in a Iope-
even then he seems not to be instructed
In the value Of st. Asaph friendship but
is observed to go around, nimbused by the
same beatihc innocence, on the hunt for
more tips
Some men who bet heavily get down to
the pool room around o'clock-business
men who know the game, or think they do,
and who, noticing good thing" among
the entries published in the morning, go
to st. Asaph to play it. These, without
even glancing at the board, except to learn
the price on the horse they mean to play,
lay down their money in wads on the coun-
ter. take from the ticket writer the one
ticket with the name of their horse in
scribed in abbreviation upon it, and then
plump themselves into the wicker rocking
chairs to wait for the race to be run, fan
ming themselves with their hats meantime
If the horse wins, all right; If the horse
loses, all right; in either case they take
the next train for Washington. Odd bet
tors. these; flyer bettors they are called
in the parlance. There are not many of
them, yet enough Of them to require this
word.
A light-hued colored man who has built
him $4,000 house with the money he made
down here (the stock way Of pointing him
out at st. Asaph) seems, indeed, quite I'M
able to lose. He plays a combination bet
of five horses, all of them to win: all win,
and the light-hued colored man gets nearly
5000 for his s.. He plays half dozen
long shots for place money and wins all.
The men unfamiliar with the game, yet
tp,no LOTT vrtfh @Ior
him. What does he like for the next race?
Well, he likes such-and-such horse His
adulators make rush for the counter
and fall over each other in putting down
their money the horse the light-hued
colored man has named. The horse is
never heard of in the race; yet the light
hued colored man cashes ticket on that
race. For himself and his own "wad" he
liked another horse.
Wise, for a Minute.
A repulsive-lookng white boy who sells
newspapers on the Washington streets
wins $50 on bet of So and receives the
acclaim of all hands. He puts the entire
$50 down on a series of six long Shots
loses all of them and is no longer a crafty
hero, but a fool, so proclaimed by the very
men who ten minutes since pattcd him
upon the back.
The pretty, well-dressed men with inky
fingers on their writing hands get down
about o'clock and hasten to "get aboard
the races being run over the wire, the
cards having been nearly finished. They
are mostly young men, and-Well, the civil
service of the federal government is pretty
we'll represented every afternoon at the
ST. Asaph pool room. All of them carry
well-worn dope books, and some Of them
have even been known to occa sionally win.
The betting slackens up a little when the
races are particularly hard; when, IN
the bettors' eyes, the winner does not loom
like a monolith, that is to say. The ticket
writer's behind the counter notice the Slack
ening. 1t grieves them.
Come up, now, all of your they bark.
imperatively. AT the post at Newport and
ST. Louis! Come on, now!' 1t sounds like
the mandate of a kings herald, this sum-
mons of the ticket writer. And they are
obeyed by numbers, too. The man who has
been meditating and doping, resolved to
wait for the next race. hears the clang OF
the starters bell when the lat the post!
bark from the ticket writer reaches his
ears. Well he might as well put few
dollars this race, anyhow: and he goes
up to the counter, lays down his money
practically at random, and thus obeyS the
demand of the ticket writer.
No bet of less than dollar is taken over
the counter. But two very seedy men chip
in a half dollar each, make dollar bet on
"long shot, and each wins so. Do they
quit then for the day and take the train
back to Washington? No. Each puts his
entire $40 down on another race-and loses.
Unless they go fiat broke, hardly any
of the st. Asaphtes leave the pool room
until the last race has been run. Now, the
management of the st. Asaph institution is
keenly busnesslike. No winning tickets on
the last races at the different tracks are
cashed the same evening; men holding such
winning tickets must make the trip over to
the pool room the next day to cash their
tickets. Such men, in making the trip,
very often intend to simply cash their tick
cts and go back to town; and they prob
ably do this as often one time in
thousand.
All hands assemble at the dingy station
to the return trolley train in the neighbor-
hood of 7:30 in the evening. Frank depres-
sion is placarded on the 'countenances of
the losers, and laxative exultation marks
the winners. When the train comes along
all of them drop into their seats with
weary sighs-still, playing the races is not
work.