DERBY DISAPPOINTMENTS.
To go to Epsom with a view to a day's enjoyment.
To imagine that there is any sport on the road down, and ditto returning.
To believe that a heavy lunch of lukewarm lobster salad and simmering champagne can be taken with impunity.
To fancy that one can get into a train bound for the Downs without losing one's temper.
To think that there is any fun in listening to the ribald songs of street nigger minstrels and Shoreditch gipsies.
To expect that, after taking part in half a dozen drag sweeps, any one of them will turn up trumps.
To presume that you will neither be choked with dust nor drenched with rain before you get home.
Lastly, to back the Winner for £10,000, payable by the Bank of England, to draw the right number at all the West-End Clubs to which you belong, becoming in consequence betrothed to the only and lovely daughter of a millionnaire Duke, and then (on waking) to find it all a dream!
