Byrne saw a cabinet at one end of the room, filled with sea-shells and knicknacks, and above it was a memorial cross surrounded by a wreath inside a glass case.

Most of the wall space thronged with engravings whose subjects ranged from Niagara Falls to Lady Hamilton.

One entire end of the room was occupied by a painting of a neck and neck finish in a race, and the artist had conceived the blooded racers as creatures with tremendous round hips and mighty-muscled shoulders, while the legs tapered to a faun-like delicacy.

These animals were spread-eagled in the most amazing fashion, their fore-hoofs reaching beyond their noses and their rear hoofs striking out beyond the tips of the tails.

The jockey in the lead sat quite still, but he who was losing had his whip drawn and looked like an automatic doll--so pink were his cheeks.