to Prussia, three sizeable places for Europe, and rake
and scrape every private carriage they've got, and they
ain't no touch to what Ascot can show. Well, when you've
done your cypherin', come right back to London, as hard
as you can clip from the race-course, and you won't miss
any of 'em; the town is as full as ever, to your eyes.
A knowin' old coon, bred and born to London, might, but
you couldn't.

"Arter that's over, go and pitch the whole bilin' of 'em
into the Thames, hosses, carriages, people, and all; and
next day, if it warn't for the black weepers and long
faces of them that's lost money by it, and the black
crape and happy faces of them that's got money, or titles,
or what not by it, you wouldn't know nothin' about it.
Carriages wouldn't rise ten cents in the pound in the
market. A stranger, like you, if you warn't told, wouldn't
know nothin' was the matter above common. There ain't
nothin' to England shows its wealth like this.

"Says father to me when I came back, 'Sam,' sais he,
'what struck you most?'

"'Ascot Races,' sais I.

"'Jist like you,' sais he. 'Hosses and galls is all you
think of. Wherever they be, there you are, that's a fact.
You're a chip of the old block, my boy. There ain't
nothin' lake 'em; is there?'