One old Sport, now in Wellington, holds veiy pronounced views shout turf “ cer tainties." Ho tells the tale himself: - “ Years ago, when in another colony, 1 knew too much about racing, and was on the threshold of bankruptcy, when I heard of a real slap up cert, fora mile handicap He had been tried hot, and couldn’t lose. But w here was I to get the cash to hack him with ? Horsey men are cheerful liars, and I wasn't an exception those days. I asked my banker for an extension of my overdraft, on the representation that 1 was getting a big sum from Homo in two weeks. He looked suspicious, but agreed. I planked the lot on at various prices, and awaited fa'.c. My neddy was coming up the straight alone when a hairy legged outsider swooped down and won by a head. I’ll never forget it. Quite unnerved I sat down and cried Until a friend took mo away.” 11 And how did you get on with your friend, the banker?" asked a listener. “Oh! all right. The winner was found to bo short in weight, and I weighed in for a big pool, I've never plunged since. There’s nothing in it, and I always avoid ‘ certs.’" A Sydney won an was the other day sued for horsefeed. She had been racing a pony that didn’t materialise. Maoriland women are happily aery much behind their Australian sisters in the matter of following the turf. This may be duo to the fact that there isn’t so much racing in this Colony. The mullipicity of meetings on the other side have produced a big crowd of touts, hangers on, whisperers, cigar-shop loafers and layers of anything, from £IOO down to a penny. And the in all her blushleas beauty is the dowdy lady punter and owner. She goes out absolutely on the own, and, knowing the character of the adjacent company, keeps strict guard over her purse. Men are not so careful. Femininity finds a pla tonic friendship with a trainer or jockey very essential and if they can strike a horse reporter in a casual sort of a way now and again so much tl.o better. But the more pressmen lovely women takes tips from the more money she loses. 