WHEN SLOPER WON THE CUP.

Manawatu Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 7957, 14 April 1904, Page 4

WHEN SLOPER WON THE CUP.

A Taiti Off The Tote.

[By The Owl.] " Yus, I b'lve in dreams—if T ain't Tad beefsteak and onions for supper. It was through a dream I oncst struck a big divy -leastways I did and I didn't, if yer understand mo." Smelling " copy " I gently insinuated that I could die happy if I could only hear that yarn. The dreamer, a battered wreck, who might have seen better days, but couldn't have seen many worse, expectorated meditatively and turned a bleary eye sadly and suggestively into the empty depths of a pint pot. The hint- was taken and tlie wreck promptly buried a bloated face in the foaming pot. "Id 'appened in !97, as "the Slushville meetznV'he wont on. :,.ft.cr drawing a greasy sleeve across his lace by wiy" of preamble. 0' cour.-o, I reckoned" on being there and puttin' mo bit on, /or I was a reßlar sport in them days—thought nofchin1 o' chuckin1 a fiver on a prad, bless yer. The Cup carried the big money at that meeting', and when I seen th' weights 1 reckom-d it was ad-ad i bird for The Gun—Maxim out of Pom Pom. But about a week afore the race I I 'ad a dream whon I wont to bunk. I | dreamed I was at thi; course, and I could see cverytfaink as real as life. There wuz tho 'orses, and the jocks and the fellers with their chnahs togged up to the mark as usual j —there wuz every think just as yer see it when yer awake. Well, they got through three o" the little hevents, and then the 'orses coma out for the Cup. I 'adn't backed anythink yet, but 'ad 'eld orf for the Cup, aud I planked down three quid on the Gun. They lined up ! at the post, and at larst the bell signalled ; that they wuz orf. My 'orse took things nice an' quiet till about three parts round—it wuz a mile an' a 'arf race, men the jock begun ter edge up, quiet like,-to the rront. The Gun was movin' beautiful aa' as ho come into the strato c started tcr shaka 'em up. 'E started ter leave 'em standin' an' I wuz countin' the notes I'd won. Then all of a suddin" somethin' flashes up on th' outside like a streak o' lightnin', an' afore we could wink it wuz racin' neck an' neck with the Gun. For a second the crowd stood duua, then somebody 'oo 'ad a ticket on the outsider yells, " It's Sloper, Sloper wms, Sloper, bloper, Sloper all the way, Sloper wins." And s'welp me it was Slower all th' way. The Gun come on like aero, "but 'is jock ad bin catched nappin: an 'afore o sized th' sitiwashun up Slopor 'ad streaked parst 'im an' won by a length. There wernt much cheerin' when th' numbers went up, for the beggar was a out and out houtsidor, and 'c paid £47 17s. Well, I'spose I must 'a begua ter speak me mind a bit, 'cause just then I felt a nawful dig in ther ribs and woke up ter ear my old wonan tellin' me I ought ter be ashamed o1 ineself fer usin' such houtragus langwidge. Well, I said nothin 1, but stiffen me if I didn't dream that blanky dream all over agen the next night. I got up in the mornin' tendin' ter tell the missis about it. The first thing 'er sez as I gets down, "Bill," 'er sez, lookin' kinder mysterious an' himportant.like, "is ther a 'orse called Sloper' runnin' on Friday ? "

"Why?" I sez, a bit staggered like, as M ria knowed as much about 'ovses as er did 'bout hasstryoligy. " Why, 'cause 1 dreamt larst ni<*ht " sez M'ria, " I dreamt a 'orse called bloper won the cup and paid ',£47 17s — wouldn't that be a 'eavingly divy ter strike ?"

"Wei], you can bet that struck me all of a cap. It seemed a diwine interr?? fa, Dn> " yer might say- and when-1 told M'ria 'bout me own hexperience Bhe jumped so she neely dropped ther kid on the fender. Beiii' sooperstiehua, like all wimmen, she cottoned on to th' hidea at oncest. 'Bill,' 'er sez, we must put all we've got on Sloper; yer must put yer shin on 'im.1 "Well," sez I, " seem as 'ow me shirt\s ripped 'arf way down th' back, an' 'as only got one button on, an' ain't bin wo3hed sense larst Monday week"— then I dodged ther fryin'-pan and cleared. But o' course 1 meant ter put all I could on Sloper avter that, an so as not ter worry yer with do-mestick deetails I /night tell yer fstrate that we managed ter raise five quid at Uncle's. We ditermind ter put all that on Sloper, an' I figgered it out that we'd win neely three undred notes. No more lung beers for me then; nothing less than bottled Hmglish an seegars. But yer never know yer luck, for hang me if I didn't go an fall and sprane me ankell the night afore the race, and I 'ad ter be carried 'ome like a hinfant. I wuz'nt goin' ter lose a fortyun for a spraned ankell though; not much, not for ten spraned ankeils.

So nex' mornin' 1 gives ther money to M'ria and sends her to ther meetin. So she shouldn't make no mistake I writes Sloper down on a bit o 1 paper, but I knowed M'ria 'ud do it all rite. When she'd gone I just laid down an smoked an waited. I didn't feel a bit hexcited; somethink told me Sloper wuz bound te* w} n \ At four er clock ! sent one o' th' kiddies out fer ther evenin' paper. I trembled just a bit, I'll allow, when I boffend the' paper. But I knowed it must be all right. And bless yer it wuz. There it wuz in front tr me—Foxdale Cup: Sloper 1, The Gun 2, Bones 3. Dividend £47 17i. Well, I just dropped back on the 1 eofy, and dreamed 0 what I'd do with all me capital. Then .1 got some paper and fingered it out. Five times forty-seven seventeen—that made two 'undred and thirty-nine, five 1 Gee whiz, what a beano I'd 'aye! I kid quiet till about six er'clock, and then began to get a bit impatient fer M'ria to come. Suddenly I 'ears footsteps, somebody turns the knob er the door, and I shouts out hearty-like "What 0, M'ria, old cell, bring in the beans." The door opens and that cheeky young warrant 0' bam Smith's shoves his dirty mug inside. " What the blazes dyer want," I sez, feelin' a bit put out cause it worn't Bfna. "Keep yer 'air on," he saz, grinnin, "I've got a letter fer yer," and with that he chucks a piece 0' folded paper on the floor, puts his finger to his dirty little pug nose and skoocs. I picked ther note up, and knowed it was from M'ria. I could reckerniße her scrawl anywhere—it was like as if a boozy spider 'ad bin doin' a cake-walk over the paper. It made me a feel a bit funny, without knowm' why. Then 1 opened it.

"Deere Bill," it says, "Iput the fiver on old Sloper, and 'c won all rite an* pade £i 7 17s. That makes neerly three 'hundred notes, don't it. Ter be kerrect Dick Brown figured it out, and he says it comes ter £239 ss. A lvvly divy, aint it ? Me and Dick, 'owever, thinks you'd drink yerself to death if yer got 'old on it, so to save yer from kosi. mittin' soeeaide, we're going tor take care on it, and we're orf ter Sydney. Ta-ta, old boy. Your luvin' Maria."