CASUAL RAMBLINGS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXIX, Issue 9011, 17 October 1892, Page 6

CASUAL RAMBLINGS.

ON THE ALTARS OF HIPPO. [BY A. TRAMP, ESQ.] [FROM THE AUCKLAND WEEKLY NEWS.] The Shearing Season—The Wool Kings' Holiday—" The "Co." Has One at Waipukurau—Peter Gow— H.B. Jockey Club Body—The CourseTwo Evils— Attendance— Toffs— Wahine Maori—The Accommodation—lmprovements—Only One Game Allowed on the Course— The Tote, That's AU-St. Hippo Collared—With a Blue Riband— Russell Advertises, Auckland—Publicans and Squatters—The Teaching of the Totalisator— Day's Meeting— The Saint Again-Small Stakes—A Boil Over— Totalisator injures the Colonial Exchequer. Now is close at hand the season when the woolly product of Zealandia has to be harvested; when the saucy swagger ceaseth to hibernate, and, crawling forth, sniffeth the shearing shed afar off, and humps hie " bluey" o'er hill and plain and by winding river. The able-bodied, the one-legged, and the single - eyed, pilgrims of the " bluey" string along the country roads and gather on the divers rendezvous in readiness to assist the lordy squatter to reap his harvest of wool. And the lordy squatter he taketh tally of his woolpacks, and locks up the family plate. And the gentle shepherd raustereth his muttons and daggeth them ; and the dismal dagger is greatly busied around the tails of the jumb-bucks, for there is much rain and the young grass springeth up abundantly. Before the lordy squatter of Hawke's Bay proceeds to the serious business of the year, he holds a week's carnival at his racing metropolis of Hastings, and invites " all the world and his wife" to join him in his pleasures, and sacrifice upon the altars of " Hippo." This is not meant for the individual horse St. Hippo,, but for the racehorse family, the object of our idolatry. Great is Hippo, and the name of his prophet is legionmostly false prophets be they. ■; After a rough trip from Masfcerton to Waipwkurau, by way of Casblepoinb and Wainui, the Co. considered himself entitled to a few days' spell, so while I betook myself to help the Rquattera with their carnival, I left him to take care of our old and esteemed friend Mr. Gow. Peter Gow has long been well and favourably known as a public caterer for " man and beast," but he has greatly increased his reputation bji his skilful management of the refreshment rooms at Waipukurau. These, without doubt, are the best of all the New Zealand Railway refreshment rooms, and might well be taken as a model for others. A man may enter cross and hungry, bub by the time Peter has dined him, and the starting bell rings, he goes away patting his stomach, smiling contentment with himself, the railway commissioners, and all the world. The time is short, but the metamorphosis is complete. The H.B. Jockey Club is a very aristocratic body, of which the Hon. J. D. Ormond, M.L.C., forms an important rib. At its head is the Hon. Captain Russell, M.H.R., and at the other, or business end, is the secretary, an amiable and aristocraticlooking gentleman, "in fair round belly with good capon lined," who would run well in double harness with the portly and popular handicapper. The head is ornamental and likewise popular, but the tail is the most important part of the animal. The club is Luckie. Its status is Metropolitan, and it lays down the law for all the other clubs, its juniors, in the provincial district. The club owns a first-class racecourse, and notwithstanding the long-continued rainfall, that only ceased on the morning of the races, the running track, although perhaps a little heavy, was in good going order. Inside the club's gates there was an agreeable absence of mud, which I hardly expected, and the lawns were cool, clean, and velvety. As a picnic ground it would be hard to find a pleasanter place than the racecourse at Hastings, but there is none of the joyous picnicky character of the olden time about the modern race meeting; the beauties of nature and art are lost upon the crowd, who make thomselves the slaves of the betting machine. Between the tote and the bookie there is not much to choose. Of the two evils perhaps the totalisator is the lesser, but it has taken away all the fun of the fair. The worship of Hippo is a serious business, and demoralising in its effects —yea verily. The opening day of the Hawke's Bay Jockey Club's Spring Meeting was declared a public holiday, and thefacilities for transport were most ample. The attendance, however, was rather light. This, I daresay, was more owing to doubts about the weather and the backwardness of the "dagging" than to any growing desire on the part of the community to discountenance the royal sport—a pastime which the majority of people admit is paralysing business and beggaring the country. The attendance was mainly made up of the '•wool kings" and their families, and spielers, a few Napier tradespeople, some half-hundred Maoris, and a stray visitor or two from the different portions of the colony. The most notable representatives from our own quarter were Colonel Fraser and Harry Hayr; as they are both press men I presume it was business rather than pleasure that took them to Hastings. There was a fair sprinkling of welldressed ladies—toffy rather. Not the least tastefully dressed among them, was the handsome Mrs. Sidey—Auckland born and bred — take a special interest in this lady, because she is the only one of her sex who has ridden Boomerang—Boomy, 1 may mention, was in his gay youth the pro?erty of her father, Mr. Owen McGee. 'he Maori wahine was there too in full fig, clad in a diversity of colours, from the sombre and becoming black to the gaudy yellow and red and white and blue, and gay tartans. In short skirts and stockings of rainbow hues, something after the style of the Newhaven fishwoman. Yum, yumish, about the ankles, and loosely flowing hair. Some of them were dressed in the height of European fashion, but when you put the " wahine Maori" into stays and tight dresses, she loses her charm. And she can't squat—at least not gracefully. The Maori tribes of Hawke's Bay are a very fortunate people, they toil not, neither do they spin, and they occupy front seats at all the shows in town and country. They have been heavily plundered, no doubt, by squatter, and church, and State, but by the look of them they could have stood a little more plucking.

The comfort and convenience of the members of the club have been carefully studied. The same liberal provision^ was not made for the public. Several unfinished improvements in this direction are noticeable, however. They have " coopered" up a sort of balcony, which adds to the seating accommodation of the grandstand. They might still further increase that accommodation by distributing a few seats on the lawn, so that those who are not in training for the long journey between the saddling paddock and the totalieator may take a rest. Another improvement— what they think one—is the plugging up of the hole in the judge's box, so that that important functionary will not have his attention diverted from the race by the gleam of bright eyes behind him; it also prevents anyone on the stand in a line with the winning post being in a position to challenge the correctness of his decision. The profits of the present meeting will probably permit of the ugly square shutter being painted. The club, I am glad to say, allows no betting or gambling on its course, save through the legalised thieving machine. The disinterested monkey, the innocent canary, the all prizes and no blanks, the under and over, the bird on the wing, the fairest game iu the world gentlemen, are rigorously banished. The respectable bookie and the honest spieler must I be soon at their wit's end for the means of making a livelihood. As tor the lower grades of these branches of industry they will continue to thieve in the old way, when and where they can, in spite of indefatigable secretaries of racing clubs or zealous members of the police force. It is a comfort, however, to know that at least one club does its level best to extirpate the vagabonds. There are quite enough thieves connected with racing without them—whoop ! The description and results of the different events of the Meeting you have already had by wire, so ib is unnecessary for me to repeat them here. You have already been told how the Auckland horse St. Hippo won the Guineas, how the gallant and gentle-

manly Captain Russell made a most generous speech on the occasion, praising Auckland as the place whence all racing blessings flow, and how St. Hippo was decorated with the blue ribbon by the fair hands of the charming Mrs. Herbert Russell—lucky St. Hippo— the cheers of squatterdom, and how the publicans carried off the spoils from the squatters. I pegged away at the totalisator all day, sometimes on' my own hook, but generally with a mate, but no luck attended my operations. I did not strike a divy once— and yet I kept clear of newspaper tips, too. I did not oven back St. Hippo, although he was given me as a " dead bird." I went on the second horse in that race, on the off chance the Saint might fallas many other Saints have doneand that thereby I might chance on a big divy. Mr. L.'D. Nathan is a very good friend of mine, but I confess I might have felt a savage joy if I could have drawn my div even at the expense of his horse's neck. Such is the selfish teaching of the totalisator. So the first day ended, and my case was that of the majority who wended their homeward way, sadder but not wiser men. Wiser ! oh, dear no ! The nexfc day .comes, and the hard fronted betting machine—the adoption of the nation that invented the guillotine—stares you in the face. On goes the race, on goes your money. "They're off and your money is off too. Same old everlasting game few win sometimes ; the many lose always, and the " tote " winneth all the time. Great is Hippo! and the offertory is good. On the second day the Saint annexed— that is the correct sporting phrase, I believe—the big money, and placed another —ostrich—in the Auckland sportsman's cap. Mr. Davis' christian name, " Dolph,"—if it is not impolite to say that a Jew has a Christian name—who represents the owner, informed me that the Saint acquired his turn of speed by chasing the ostriches on L. D.'s farm. I'm going to buy an ostrich farm for .Boomerang. The pubbies allowed the squatting side to win a small stake of '25sovs. A crumb the lordy framers of the programme intended should be scrambled for by the inferior race. Bub Publicanus is a 'cute rascal, and proved a bit too clever for the bosses. Metropolitan clubs are getting mighty particular about their junior clubs racing for small stakes. But reformation should begin at homethere was nothing metropolitan about this 25sov " touch." To wind up the meeting, a disreputable female horse " upset the pot," and gave her stupid bub lucky backers a 20-pound div. I wasn't) stupid enough to be on her. The results of my days' speculation was, I won a pound and lost three. So after two days' enjoyable sport we wended our way to our respective places of abode —all sober. The refreshment booths were stocked by Host McCarteny with Caledonian whisky, but notwithstanding the temptation afforded by the well-known good quality of his liquor, as I said, we ail came home sober. The totalisator does nob leave one time or money enough to get drunk. One cannot serve two gods ;if we worship at the shrine of Hippo, we must leave that of Bacchus alone. The shrinkage in the drink bill of the colony is no doubt caused by the superior temptations of the totalisator.