Education is reckoned as a prime essential to success in most trades; but in that of betting it would appear unnecessary, in order to realise a fortune for himself or his fellow-mortals, that an advertising tipster or betting-man should be master of the English language, let alone of the cardinal virtues. Here is a member of the Manchester Subscription-rooms, in proof:
“George D—y, member of the Manchester Subscription-rooms, attends personally all the principal race-meetings. Some persons having used the above name, G. D. gives notice that he has not anyone betting for him, and anyone doing so are welshers.”
Another gentleman eschews prophecy, and would throw “Modus” to the dogs, only that possibly his natural instincts peculiarly qualify him for knowing that to do so would be to cast an undeserved indignity on those respectable creatures. He goes in for “secret information.” He does not seek to mystify his readers by adopting a nom-de-plume, such as “Stable Mouse,” or “Earwig,” or “Spy in the Manger.” He boldly owns his identity as John —, of Leicester-square, London, and arrogates to himself an “outsider” that is to beat anything else in the field. “Do not be guided,” says this frank and plain-spoken sportsman—“do not be guided by the betting, but back my outsider, whose name has scarcely ever been mentioned in the quotations, because the very clever division to which it belongs have put their money on so quietly that their secret is known to only a few. I am in the swim, and know that the horse did not start for one or two races it could have won easily, but has been expressly saved for this. I have several other absolute certainties, and guarantee to be particularly successful at Chester. Terms: fourteen stamps the full meeting. Many of the minor events will be reduced to certainties; and in order to take advantage of it, I am willing to telegraph the very latest, without charge, to those who will pay me honourably from winnings; or I will invest any amount remitted to me, guaranteeing to telegraph before the race is run the full particulars.—John G., Leicester-square, London.”
What a pity it is that those who flatter themselves that they are intellectually qualified to embark in one of the most hazardous and difficult ways of making money should not be at the pains of carefully reading and deliberating on barefaced attempts at imposture, such as are disclosed in the above! John G. is one of the “clever division,” he says. So much for his honesty, when he admits that he is in the “swim” with men who have been tampering with the same wonderful “outsider,” and so manœuvering as to throw dust in the eyes of unsuspecting persons. So much for the wealth and position of the “swim,” when John G., a confessed member of it, is ready to betray his confederates for the small consideration of fourteenpence, or less, should you fall short of that amount of faith in his integrity. He will “leave it to you, sir,” as does the sweeper who clears the snow from your door, or the industrious wretch who brushes the dust from your coat on the racecourse. Or he will invest any sum you may feel disposed to intrust to him. There is not the least doubt of it; and what is more, you may rest assured that he will invest it so as to make sure of a substantial return. How else is he to cut a respectable figure at Epsom or Ascot, and join the bold-faced, leather-lunged gang, who, with a little money-pouch slung at their side, and a little, a very little money within the pouch, elbow their way through the press, bawling, “I’ll lay” on this, that, or t’other?
J. G. of Leicester-square is not the only advertising tipster who professes to be “in the swim,” and on that account to be in a position to act as a traitor to his friends, and the benefactor of the strange public. Here is the announcement of another gentleman.
“Great Events!—Enormous odds!!—Two horses have been expressly saved; and one of the best judges on the turf tells me they are the greatest certainties he ever knew. As for another event, it is quite at the mercy of the owner of a certain animal. I do not hesitate to say that there never was, and never will be, a better chance of pulling off a large stake at a trifling risk; for I can obtain the enormous odds of 1,840l. to 1l., or 920l. to 10s., or 460l. to 5s.; or I will send the secret for fourteen stamps.”
Here is a Munchausen fit to shake hands with and claim as a brother J. G. of Leicester-square. He knows of a forthcoming race, and he likewise knows of a man who intends to run in it a certain horse that will hold the equine contest at his mercy. It is but reasonable to assume that the noble animal in question will obey the dictates of his nature, and not give way to weak forbearance or foolish generosity. Undoubtedly, therefore, it will win the race; and the advertiser, if he puts 5s. on it, is sure of bagging 460l.! And yet he is found competing in the same dirty field with a score of his kindred, clamouring for fourteenpence in postage-stamps.
“Stable secrets! stable secrets!” shrieks the “Sporting Doctor;” secrets so very precious that he cannot possibly betray them for less than fivepence each. Send fifteen stamps, and receive in return the “true and certain winners of the Chester, the Derby, and the Oaks.” The “Sporting Doctor” hails from a back-street in the Blackfriars-road. The “Barber-poet” of Paddington, in touching terms, implores his noble patrons to assist him in advising his fellow-creatures of the “good things he has for them.” “Show my circulars to your friends,” he says; “it will be to my interest for you to do so. I will give 100l. to any charitable institution, if the advice I give is not in every instance the best that money can obtain.” The next tipster on the list goes farther than this. He boldly avows he will forfeit a large sum of money unless he “spots” the identical winners “first and second.” Of course, nothing can be more transparent than bombast of this sort; but here it is in black-and-white:
“Mr. Ben W. will forfeit 500l. if he does not send first and second for the Chester Cup. Send four stamps and stamped envelope, and promise a present, and I will send you the Chester Cup, Great Northern, Derby, and Oaks winners.—Address, —, Waterloo-road, London.”
Mr. Benjamin W.’s suggestion of a “promised present” is, however, no novelty with the advertising tipster. Many of the fraternity ask a cash-down payment for the “tip” they send—a sum barely sufficient to buy them a pint of beer—professing to rely contentedly on the generosity of their “patronisers,” as Mr. Modus styles them. Occasionally are appended to the advertisements gentle remonstrances and reminders that the confidence the tipster reposed in his patroniser seems to have been misplaced. The latter is requested “not to forget what is due from one gentleman, though in a humble sphere, to another.” One gentleman becomes quite pathetic in an appeal of this kind: