Selling the “Sweep.”

Cromwell Argus, Volume V, Issue 262, 6 October 1874, Page 7

Selling the “Sweep.”

Did you ever see the chances in a Calcutta Sweep sold 1 Tf you have you may recognise this picture. If you have not, the description may at least have the charm of novelty to recommend it. A long room crowded to the doors; when the auctioneer mounts a chair at the head of the table every face in the crowd assumes a look of deep concern. Men bring forth their pocket-books containing the very latest betting from the most reliable sources. The assembly is mixed, though the majority may be described as gentlemen of the free and easy sort, who plume themselves on being acquainted with a move or two, and who are in the habit of expressing their wide range of capacity for ad-

venture by observing that they are good for anything from pitch and toss to manslaughter. Among these a ring is formed for the purpose of buying up everything reasonable, and this co-operative society is viewed with aversion by better men of the betting persuasion, and treated accordingly. Of course to this audience the auctioneer’s opening remarks that his customers know more about the horses than himself is perfectly correct, and so with little preamble the gallopers are put up. The first horse offered has been scratched, and a wellknown publican unwittingly buys him for half-a-sovereign, to the intense delight of his acquaintances. After two or three more are disposed of, one of the liktly ones is mentioned. The prize is worth two hundred pounds, and the funny man offers five shillings to start with. The Ring, composed of men who do not care to waste time, bid ten pounds, fifteen, twenty, and in two minutes the Arrow is disposed of for £25 10s. /This is done quicker and with less noise than at an ordinary sale of merchandise. The fun is over the dark horses, and in bidding for these the peachant for chaff is well brought out. Two celebrities, “ King Joe” and the “ Knowing One,” possibly run an outsider up to £3 10s., they then pause. Each is afraid of giving too much, and both evidently fancy that if they “ cave in” the other will get hold of a good thing. Then the crowd give them a little encouragement. “Go in, Joe,” says one, “he’s got a couple of new wooden legs since he ran in Melbourne.” “Bid another half-crown, Jemmy, they are going to tie him to Goldsborough’s tail, so he is sure of a place.” Encouraged by these consolatory communications an advance is made, and the horse eventually knocked down. The greatest good humour prevails, and even a disputed bid is settled by a joke. For instance, tbe ring disputes a sale, the party at the door maintain that the disposal of the lot is correct. Words grow warm, and some one suggests that the party near the entrance should be put out. To which he replies, “ That possibly it would be as well to adjourn the "sale and call for tenders for the job, for nobody would be inclined to undertake it for nothing,” and with that the sale is allowed to go on until the last horse is disposed of and hundreds of pounds have been realised for the chance of winning'three prizes, the aggregate of which will not possibly amount to the sum for which the chances have been disposed of. And then the assembly disperse, everyone well satisfied with his bargain until the time shall arrive when certainty replaces expectation, and the winners of the race on which the sweeep is drawn are known. At a sale of this kind on Saturday evening at the Albion Hotel, on the Sydney Metropolitan, the sum realised for the horses was £232, the highest price paid being for Horatio, £26. The Arrow fetched £25 10s., Kingsborough, £ls 10s., Goldsborough, £is, Dagworth, £l2 ; and the remainder varied in price until Zanco was reached, who realised the munificent sum cf 2s. 6d.