BOOKMAKERS ON THE BEACH.
A Sketch at a Sea-side Race Meeting.
The Sands at Baymouth, where some pony and horse races are being run. By the Grand Stand, and under the wall of the esplanade, about a dozen bookmakers, perched on old packing-cases, are clamouring with their customary energy. The public, however, for some reason seems unusually deaf to their blandishments and disinclined for speculation, and the bookmakers, after shouting themselves hoarse with little or no result, are beginning to feel discouraged.
Bookmakers (antiphonally). Evens on the field! Three to one bar one! Five to one bar two! Six to one bar one! Even money Beeswing! Six to one Popgun! Come on 'ere. Two to one on the field! What do you want to do?
[The public apparently want to look another way.
First Bookmaker (to Second Bookmaker). Not much 'ere to-day! Shawn't get no roast baked and biled this journey, eh?
Second B. (with deep disgust). They ain't got no money! Baymouth's going down. Why, this might be a bloomin' Sunday-school treat! Blest if I believe they know what we're 'ere for!