SPORTING NEWS.

Hastings Standard, Issue 351, 18 June 1897, Page 3

SPORTING NEWS.

[By Gitsy Grand.]

Flintlock and Ilex arrived at Hastings yesterday. Tbo trotting match at Christ-church yesterday for ,£2OO between General Tracy and Sam Slick was won by the former. The H.B. Hurdles ;md Steeple acceptance lir,t .-bow a great falling off from the- number nominated. It the Hurdle race 24 have failed to accept, and 14 withdrew from the big event. Despite this, however, both fields are likely to be large and the contests exciting. 1 expect to see a dozen horses face the starter in the Hurdle Race. The deeds of those engaged are many, and all claim wins over sticks excepting Golden Plover and Drury Lane, who are now aspirants at the game. The I'lug, Rhino, Prince Charlie or Tallyho should supply the winner, but I will reserve my final selection until Monday. The other events have tilled well with the exception of the Maiden Steeple, in which Toreki and the unlucky Rhino are tlio only horses engaged. In the corresponding race last year seven horses competed, Zaccho turning up the winner. The Jubilee Handicap, which I suggested in my notes some time ago, has filled well, and should be the most interesting race on the programme. The safety hurdle will be on view at the racecourse to-morrow.

TUB PHANTOM EACE

THE H.B. STEEPLECHASE. Lulled to rest in the land of sleep Free from this world of care, Forward, onward, down the deep And misty veil of time, a leap In Dreamland. I was there. A heaving mass surged round the stand Lashed with the lust for gold ; The Maori's sombre tattoo brand Passing link of a luckless land Marked the ran gi lira old. The pakeha crushed the em'rald sod In his relentless might; "Woe to the dusky lchabod Losing his land, his home, his God With the war march of the White. Dimly the mingling colors, blurred In the hazy mist of sleep Flashed like a rainbow, cyclone stirred ; And down the long straight vaguely heard The roar seemed low and deep.

I saw the well-known starter's hack; llow Rhino's red coat shone ! And the twin top weights who bore the black Dashed out at the words like a pistol crack " Look out now ! " They were gone. And streaming o'er the big brush fence The racing band went by, Morag, Swift, Flirt, and then immense L'mslopogaas . My feelings tense Found vent in a long drawn sigh ! For with the spring of a wounded hind "When the marksman lays him low, Swift as the rush of the wild west wind Old Mutiny flung the fence behind In the van of T'allv-ho.

And a scream came from the mottled crowd As the thundering band dashed past ; And " llhino," " Tlug " were echoed loud, Though many a punter's head was bowed For Mnch Ado was last.

But there's many a slip at a big sod wall, And I saw there in my sleep Two go to grass with a stunning fall, And I wondered that the Maori call " Mu —tiunie " was so deep.

Aye, aye ; with a leap that would shame a stag He had landed well in front, His nearest rivals were Morag And Tally-ho, who did not lag In the rear rank of the hunt.

Then I saw the whole field charge the rails Of the double far away ; Ah ! that's a jump that never fails To turn a few of them head and tails Upon the fatal day.

Then down the straight to the water came The now fast thinning band,

They had kept their places much the same, Though The Plug was playing a waiting game As they rattled past the stand.

And so for the last time round they raced With Mutiny in the van ; Morag and Rhino both well placed And Tally-ho far from being outpaced In the wake of Rhino ran.

Then rapidly The Plug shot out As they neared the fatal wall, The grandstand trembled with the shout Of the surging crowd who swayed about, When they Hew it one and all 1 Gallantly leading his struggling foes The champron turned for home, And through all the mob wild shouts arose The crack of whips, the sound of blows On the flanks now wet with foam.

" Mutiny !' " Mutiny ! " loud on high The hoarse cries deafening rang, Then *' Tally-ho ! " Again the cry Was changed as Illiino struggling by A full length forward sprang. Then I yelled like a fiend, like one possessed Between my blankets snug— As up the straight the horses pressed And singling out from all the rest Like atlash there came ' 'Twas only a dream ! I'd a tenner on ; That's the bitter pill of the joke ; For when the steeple was lost and won And I thought * Thank Heaven, good luck's begun, "Well Hang it! —l awoke'. F. D A. C. De L.