Mr. Schoenfeld's Lucky Error

While Mr. Schoenfeld, the horso om er of Iuiiana, was in England in 1892 he picked np some pretty good horses. Just as the horses were being taken down te the ship the colt Jangler feil sick and had to be left behind. Mr. Schoenfeld remained in England to visit some of the tracks. So he placed Jangler with Alfred Day at Newmarket, with instructions to get him in shape by early fall. He then started to do the races, saw the Lincoln handicap open the legitímate season, attended the spring meetings at Newmarket, Epsom and Sandown, spottfng the winners of the City and Suburban, the Great Metropolitan and the Derby, genally having a pretty good time and luekily winning enough to pay expenses. The British bookmaker does most oí lús business "on the nod" th regular race goers, weekly settleaients being made on Mondays. Mr. Schoenfeld was soon recognized as a responsible bfittor and could bet away freely on credit. During these months he had heard now and again from Alfred Day that Jangler was -doing nicely, coming back to liis reed and form, and one letter intimated that ho would, if placed right, soon be good enough to win a nice stake. Later Mr. Schoenl'eld received this telegram: Have entered colt Egliam Plate at Windsor; thJnk he will about do; put 20 each way. ' Day. Being in London on the day of the race Mr. Schoenfeld went down to Windsor. Strolling into the betting ring about 10 minutes before the start, with the amount he intended betting buzzing in his head, namely $100, he halted in front of a bookmaker with whom he had a business acquaintance. "Thompson, how much will you give me on Jangler?" he said in as offhand a inanner as possible. ■'Give you tens," was the response. "That isn't enough. He's a rank outsider, but he's the last on the card, and I take a fancy soinetimes to back the end one." "Well, I'll give you elevens," said Thompson., "No," replied Schoenfeld; "give me 12 to 1, and I'll bet you a hundred." "Done!" said the penciler, and Mr. Schoenf eld walked away toward the saddling paddock to see how Jangler looked. While tliere it suddenly flashed across liis inind that he had bet L100 and not dollars on an tintried colt. Pushing his way back to the bookmaker he asked, "How did y on imderstand ïny bet," he gasped, "dollars or pounds?" "Why, pounds, of course," said the booky. "We don't know anything about ,your Yankee currency over here." "Why, I rneant dollars!" replied Mr. Sehoenfeld. "Can't you alter it? I don't want to risk $500 on this colt." "Very sorry I can't oblige you; but, you see, it was several minutes since yc made this bet, and I made my other prices accordingly. You'll have to stand it now." Before he could reach a point where he could see, the winner flashed past the post, but for once the British crowd forgot to shout the name of the first horse. "Some doubt about who's got it, I suppose," thoughtthe speculator; so, calling to a man who could see the winner's number hoisted, he asked, "Who's won - can you see?" In a few seconds the reply came,"Some bloody dark 'oss f'rom Alf Day's stable - name o' Jingles or Jangles, or smnmat like that." With a deep sigh of relief, Mr. Sehoenfeld mentally wrote down $6,000 on the credit side of Jangler's account and went back to town to have a real good time. - New York Times.