Children," but the gifted artist, in recognition of Mr. Pryce's princely
offer of one thousand guineas for the group, waived his right to the title.

On the left we see the Foreign Department. Here we watch with rapt
attention the arrival of countless business telegrams from all parts of the
world. We choose one or two at random and see for ourselves the
ramifications of Pryce's far-flung booking service. This one from China:
"Puttee fifty taels Boko Lanchester Cup;" another from distant Siberia,
emerging from the primeval forests of that wondrous land of the future:
"Tenbobski Quitter Ebury Handicap." Bets are accepted in all denominations
from Victory Bonds to the cowrie-shells of West Africa.

Passing up the marble staircase and leaving the Home Department on our
right we arrive at the Stumer Section. Here a small army of ex-Scotland
Yard detectives are engaged in dealing with _malâ-fide_ commissions--
attempts on the part of men of straw to make credit bets, or telegrams
despatched after a race is over.

Where shall we go next? We ask a courteous shopwalker, who in flawless
English advises us to try the Winter Gardens, where a delightful tea is
served at a minimum cost. Here, whilst sipping a fragrant cup of Orange
Pekoe, we can watch the large screen, on which the results of all races are
flashed within ten seconds of the horses passing the winning-post. At one
time, in fact, it was nothing unusual for Pryce's to have the results
posted before the horses had completed the course, but in deference to the
prejudices of certain purists this practice was abandoned.

Follows a hurried visit to the Library and Museum, where we gaze enthralled
at the original pair of pigeon-blue trousers with which Mr. Bookham Pryce
made his sensational _début_ on the Lincoln course in the spring of 1894.