Never was anything more wretched-looking in this world.

It was difficult to believe, that a few years back, this stand had been filled with magnates of the "upper ten thousand" and stars of beauty: there it was before me, with its broken benches, scarce a whole plank in the floor, and wherever there was one, it was covered with old cigar stumps, shells of peanuts, orange-peel, &c.

When, however, I found that seven people constituted the number of spectators in the stand, its dilapidation was more easily explained, especially when I discovered that access, with a little activity, was easily obtainable at the sides _gratis_--a fact soon proved by the inroad of a few "rowdies," and the ubiquitous vendors of lollipops and peanuts, headed by the persevering distributor of hymns.
Let us turn now from the dreary stand to the scene below.

The race-course is a two-mile distance, perfectly level, on a smooth and stoneless road, and forming a complete circle--light trotting waggons are driving about in the centre, taking it easy at sixteen miles an hour; outside are groups of "rowdies." making their hooks and looking out for greenhorns--an article not so readily found at Long Island as at Epsom.
The race is to be "under the saddle," and the long list of competitors which had been announced has dwindled down to the old and far-famed Lady Suffolk and the young and unfamed Tacony.
A stir among the "rowdies" is seen, followed by the appearance "on the boards" of Lady Suffolk.

I gazed in wonder as I saw her--a small pony-looking animal--moving her legs as though they were in splints, and as if six miles an hour was far beyond her powers; soon after, Tacony came forward, the picture of a good bony post-horse, destitute of any beauty, but looking full of good stuff.