A New Jerseyman told rne a good story the other day on one of our foremost turfmeu, a man whose name is perbaps jjrinted oftener than that of any other connected with raciug in America. A good rnany years ago this tnrfman, who was not then deep iu tbe racing business, arrived in Jersey City witb a trainload of mustangs froni the plains of Texas. He knew nothiug of the laws of the state nor of the ordinances of the city. He kuew that he wanted to sell his mustangs and thought the best way to do it was to sell them at auction. Being somewhat gifted in speech, he determined that he would be his own auctioneer. The sale started out well. Pair prices were realized. Suddenly it was interrupted by policemen, who demanded a view of our fnend's license. "License?" he said amazed. "What license? I haven 't any license of any kind." "Well, yon can't sell horses in this city without a license. You'll have to come along. No monkey busineiss with us." Of course he went along, but he was lucky enough to flnd at court a friend (a lawyer), who went bail for him in the sum of $50. Then the lawyer said : "A license costs$250. You are under bonds. Go ahead and finish your sale, collect your money and skip out. Qive me $50 to settle the forfeited bond, and you are $200 ahead of the game. " It was done accordingly. The tnrfman and his friend met in the St. James hotel lately and laughed over the joke.