But I now turned my eyes to the tall thin young man. He was a Dandy, a complete Dandy; and, as every one in high life knows what a Dandy is, I shall not further describe him. He was counting a parcel of bank-notes, and cramming them into a small Morocco pocket-book; the transparency of the notes discovered to me that they were fifties and hundreds, and the bundle seemed rather voluminous. His face was, naturally, the silliest I ever saw, yet it had a dash of low cunning in it; I saw him wink at an elderly Baronet who was standing in the crowd, and keeping up the price of a friend’s horses which were for sale; and they exchanged a sly look, which said, “We have properly done the Peer.”
As I never was a turfman, and am only a spectator of what our Dandies, and Ruffians do, I should never have arrived at the bottom of all this without the explanation which I obtained from Tom Maberly, an old college acquaintance, who was at Tattersall’s, selling off his hounds, and whom I perceived in a roar of laughter at Captain Lavender, an Exquisite of the Guards, not long emerged from Eton, dressed as if he came out of a band-box, and storming like a madman, at being saddled (as he termed it,) with a lot of horses which he never meant to purchase, but which he was hoaxed into bidding for, and which were knocked down to him at an enormous price. Tom (here was a pity again) modestly offered the Exquisite half what he had just paid for the horses; saying, “Upon my soul I am sorry for your being taken in, but it can’t be helped, a man must pay for experience, and if you will dabble on the turf, and with turfmen, you must be more on your guard.”
I saw that Lord Curricle was not so much out in his bad opinion of the world. But let me explain these two transactions. Tom told me that the young Ruffian, (not the bruiser, but a gentleman,) in conjunction with another honest friend, (the Baronet,) had practised what they technically termed a throw-over. The one advised the Peer, motived by superior information, to lay his money in opposition to his own judgment, and the latter was to go halves in the bet. The bet was lost to the tall thin young man, who was, in reality, a confederate with the other; the half, seemingly lost by the Baronet, was returned to him, and the two friends divided the spoil. “Is it possible that gentlemen should practice such vile tricks?” exclaimed I. “Oh, yes,” said Tom, “these things are common.”
Quoted from: Pierce Egan: Sporting Anecdotes, Original and Selected; Including Numerous Characteristic Portraits of Persons in every Walk of Life. Vol. 1. New York: Johnstone & Van Norden, 1823.