LORD ROSE BEERY AND THE CHUMPKIN.

Patea Mail, 2 June 1882, Page 1 (Supplement)

LORD ROSE BEERY AND THE CHUMPKIN.

In a sketch of the racing career of the Lord of Dalmeny, a sporting contemporary tells the following capital anecdote— si non a verro e hen trovato. The Earl is remarkably unostentatious in manner, and, beyond being a natty dresser, is unpretentious. We have heard rather a good story about him, which, if true —and we have no reason to doubt its veracity—is characteristic. Being a Scotchman, be is fond of running horses in Scotland, and by his patronage has done much to revive several race meetings north of the Tweed, especially at Ayr, at which he always, if possible, is present. At a recent meeting there, having an important political appointment to preside at in Loudon, he hurried through by express, via Carlisle, to be present the first day. Eor his companion in the railway carriage he had a remarkably “ pushing ” species of a commercial traveller, who, ignorant of who his companion was, ever and anon attempted to force a speaking acquaintance, and, seeing his lordship perusing the Racing Calendar, on approaching towards Ayr, “ broke earth ” with the remark, “ Racing is a great institution. Suppose you’re going to Ayr meeting ?” “lam going as far as Ayr,” replied his lordship. “ Pity young swells get fleeced by blacklegs. Some noblemen, I hear, drop fortunes on the turf.” “Indeed !” “I do a bit myself sometimes —a tenner or a pony’s about my cut. Know anything good for to-day, worth my while touching?” “lam not a tipster.” “ Beg pardon: saw you reading Racing Crlendar, thought you might know.” “Well,” replied his lordship with a quiet smile, “if'l give you ‘ the straight tip,’ will it be of service to you ? ” “ Depend if I fancy it.” “ Put your tenner or pony on Lord Roseberry’s Chevrouel for the Welter Cup.” “ Not for Joseph ! I never back Lord Roseberry’s horses. They say he’s a regular chitmplcin.” “ Indeed, perhaps they’re right. However, you asked me, and lean only add that I heard Lord Roseberry himself tell what you term a chumpkin to back his horse.” “ Depend upon it, if it was all right,he would not let you overhear his conversation. Mum would then be his game. Why, there’s a lot in that race! I’ll bet you a pony Lord Roseberry don’t win it ?” “ Really I’m not accustomed to bet in railway carriages with strangers.” “ There’s my card — Mr. Robert Pushabout, representative of Messrs. Eleecy, Wool and Shoody, Wood Street, Cheapside. Fact is, you ain’t game to bet.” “ I think you’ll lose your money; but as you challenge me, let it be a bet. You’ll see me in the stewards’ enclosure at the course. I have no cards with me.” “ Agreed ; it’s a bet. I bet you an even pony against Chevronel for the Welter Cup. But what’s your name, young fellow?” “ Primrose. Sometimes lam otherwise addressed.” “ All right, young Primrose ; pay and receive after the race." The companions separated at the station. Chevrouel won in a canter, and the commercial received the following short note, by- a messenger from the stewards’ stand —“ Mr. Primrose (Lord Roseberry) would feel obliged by Mr. Pushabout handing to his servant £25, which his lordship will have much pleasure in forwarding as a donation to the Commercial Travellers’ Orphan Asylum.” The “ bagman ” paid his pony, looking very crest-fallen, and was heard to ejaculate —“Done, by Jupiter; who on earth would have dreamt that the goodlooking, affable young fellow, whom I imagined was a chumplcin , was in fact none other than the Earl of Roseberry, giving me a good honest tip about his own horse, by which I was fool enough to lose five-and-twenty pounds! Any way, he’s a regular trump, and he’s right—l’m the chumplcin after all.” — Liverpool Echo.