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FOOTRACING AT STAWELL.
There is only one Gift, and anybody who
is anybody in the sporting world knows
where it is run, what it is worth, the win
ners for years past, the men who would have
won bar accidents, the fastest and slowest
times, and the mint of money Tommy
Canter made in the year he won just by
beating the pistol. It is surprising what a
lot of good old hasbeens are knocking about
who ran well in the Gift the year Niemand
landed the stake. . Each of them would have
won it, too, only for his awful luck. One
poor unfortunate was hunting all over the
town on the morning of the race for a bit
of stale bread, and being forced at last to
eat a fresh crust lost the race thereby.
There are dozens of others with similar
tales of races that should have been won
which, history says were lost.
* * *
It is hard to see why some runners enter
for the Gift unless it is to give the local
pressman a chance to state that "Mr.
Splinter of this town has entered for the
Gift this year. He is on the — yds, mark,
and should make things lively in the final
of the big event.'" Mr. Splinter seldom
survives the first round, but he reckons that
the press notice is worth the entrance fee ;
later on in life it gives him a chance to talk
tall about the year he was competing in the
Stawell Gift. Peds are often beaten out of
sight in picnic handicaps, who continually
figure amongst the Gift entrants. They do
not win, of course, but then they were not
after it — so they say. As a matter of fact,
they were such an extremely long way after
it that they might as well have been in the
next State. Gccd men undoubtedly wait a
long time for an out-mark and then scoop
or try to. A ped will be running like a
hobbled hen for perhaps twelve months in
inferior races ; then, from a limit mark, he
does all he knows, and, if he has luck, tho
Gift is his. Everything is supposed to come
to him who waits, but there are exceptions
— the Gift is one of' them.
* * *
Anyone wanting to be convinced that men
run in all shapes and sizes and colors has
only to attend a Gift meeting to be satisfied
on that point. Black, white, and yellow;
square-jawed and chinless; high foreheads
and no foreheads ; long legs and short
bodies; broad shoulders and pancake chests
— they are all there, every sort from the
midget Dicky Lynas to the Pagel-like Lar-
kins.
The official programme shows three com-
petitors for the first heat, and the bellowing
bookmakers, in their ranks one of the Com-
monwealth's ' champion sprinters, are offer-
ing evens Clarke, take 3 to 1 Hongsip, and
give 4 to 1 Bradley. We admire their
generosity regarding Bradley until it is men-
tioned that he is scratched. A cigarette
smoking youth hands over his nine bob to
win three on Hongsip, and "Bang'"they're
away.- Hongsip wins fairly easily in
12 1-5sec. The cigarette youth spits com-
placently over tho oval fence. "Just pick
ing up money backing him for that," he
comments. Other heat winners are Flana-
gan, Gehrs, Noonan, Black, Grenell, Cast-
ley, Hodges, Glasson, Postle, Jones,
Hyman, Morefield, and Cromie. Just be-
fore the eleventh heat some tall-hatted
swells come out and inspect the finishing
gate while a brother tall-hat explains its
mechanism. Meanwhile the competitors are
standing bareheaded in the glaring sun.
The official in charge of the track-clear flag
waits so deferentially for the visitors' to
move aside that one cannot help thinking
what an admirable royal attendant is being
wasted to make a flag-waver.
* -x- * .
The eleventh heat demonstrates the ad-
vantage of winning by a street if possible.
Jones, in red, is home first by yards, but
the gate hoists another color, thus proving
that the machine can lie allright, or else that
it is color-blind. Morefield, the Gympie
darkie, easy winner of the 14th heat, is
alleged to be the big gun sprinter of the
meeting. Dressed all in white the only de-
scription that seems to fit 'him is a white
hoss with black points. Later on heats of
the 220, 440, half-mile, hurdle race, and
100yds first-class handicap are won and
lost. In the second heat of the hurdles,
half-caste Norman Clark bustling for posi-
tion, takes off too soon at the first jump
and smashes the six-inch hurdle to the
ground. Clarke is uninjured, but, oh, the
language. Morefield from 2yds. wins his
heat in the first-class handicap comfortably,
and the public beer-money is piled on him
for the Gift as recklessly as if the summer
were really over. H. Gibson, winner of
the last event of the day— a half-mile heat —
is a good example to young peds as to what
makes a runner. Scarcely quick enough
naturally to win a farmers' plate, constant
training-and practice (he is a front rank
footballer) have made him a mighty hard
man to beat over a distance. Last year's
quarter-mile came to him in 50sec. Here
endeth the first day (Saturday), and there
is all day Sunday for the peds, and trainer-
bookies to work up cronk runs and
similar items inseparable from the spiked
shoe sport.
* * *
Monday opens with the second round of
the Gift, Flanagan and Grenell battling for
the first heat. The bagmen's yell is even
money Flanneegarn, 6- to 4 Grenell; the
first-named wins in 12 1-5sec. Hongsip,
who won easily on Saturday in 12 1-5, is
beaten to-day in slower time. Morefield,
the fancy man for the final, is blown out by
R. Cromie in the 9th heat. At three o'clock
they are all out for the final of the Easter
Gift of 100 golden sovs. The photographers
level their instruments on to the runners,
the flag-waver gives the track clear signal,
and off they go. Flanagan draws away at
the finish from tho confused mass of arms
and legs that is hustling so strenuously to
wards the gate and wins by a couple of
yards. Up goes the green flag, and above all
the noise and babble comes a shout of
'Good old Ireland,, never was beaten yet,
and never will be.' It is convenient to
have a bad memory sometimes. Cromie is
second, and Black and Hyman dead-heat for
third. The great Gift is over.
The Gift winner also claimed the 220yd. ;
Larkins takes the 440 ; Gibson the half
mile; Smitham the mile; Morefield the
100yds.; Miller the hurdles; and Govan the
two-mile. The run between Govan on 70
yards and Dicky Lynas on 20 yards is a par-
ticularly gruelling affair. Lynas gains his
handicap, and struggles gamely for premier
position, but Govan's finishing run is too
strong, and the bantam can only manage
second place. Even then he has attempted
too much, and as we leave the ground
Dicky lies dead to the world, stretched out
in front of the dressing-room with a towel
waving trainer fanning him back to life.
GLENARA.
Vic.
The number of workmen co-operating
under the N.Z. Government is at present
3527 — 2110 on the railways and 1417 on the
roads.
$