had to be crossed in the whole day-a regular Holderness or Blackmoor-vale affair-dyke toward, bank, then scraggy fence, and ditch again on the far-side.

"On and off! Lily," cried Cherry-its too big to fly; but Lily was deaf or jealous, and she heeded him not.

Cherry came slowly at it, the flea-bitten grey alighting on the upper bank like an Irish-bred one, and then dropping down safely on the off-side, just as the chesnut, driven to it all in a fly, cocked his ears gamely, and went with a rush and a will at the bank, covered some four-and-twenty feet in his stride, topped the twigs of the fence, but landed short, with his hind-legs in the ditch, and was down like a shot.

Cherry might have broken the fleabitten grey's back by the pace at which he pulled up, white as a sheet, and his heart in his mouth. But Lily had slipped clear off her saddle, and was on her feet before even he was down on his; and the chesnut, after lying a few seconds to make sure that he had not hurt himself, scrambled on to his legs again before Cherry had got over his terror, and had been assured by Lily that there was no harm done, and that nothing but her feet had come into contact with Mother Earth.

"We had better stop, Lily," he said. "I'm sure you must be

shaken."

"Indeed, I am not; but the poor horse?"

Stupid beast! he's none the worse; but I am afraid he's not safe

for you.

"It was my fault, not his; I did not send him fast enough at it. Mayn't I go on ?"

Cherry hesitated. His very eagerness that Lily should hold her own against Miss Harper, however forlorn the chance of victory now looked, made him diffident of allowing her to run further risk.

"You're not afraid?" he was going to ask; but that was too much of a libel on Lily, and he modified to "Do you think he is safe for you?"

"Of course he is, if I am safe for him. I won't make any more mistakes, you'll see. Please put me up. That's the third man gone by us while we have been talking here."

And Cherry, slinging his bridle under his arm, lifted her up in less time than this sentence takes to describe.

But time is money in most cases, and in the present one the delay of Lily's fall appeared absolute hard cash out of the Lunatic's and into Vainable's pocket.

In his animosity for their impertinence, Cherry would have been too thankful had it been possible for both of the wagerers to lose their money. But as that was Utopian, and as the Lunatic was generally estimated in charity more fool than knave, it was but natural that the young one should for mere jealousy of his protegée, do indirectly all in his power to land the Madman his coin.

As a well-known huntsman once said of reckless undergraduates over-riding his hounds, "Lord, bless 'em! Od rot 'em! they fears. nothin', a-cause they knows nothin'! So it might be said that the pace at which Cherry and Lily took the next half-dozen fences, in their jealous eagerness to regain their pride of place, betokened quite

as much want of judgment and self-control as absence of fear. But there is a providence specially in store for school children and sailors, and it held good for the young ones who were thus doing their reckless best to brave a coroner's inquest. Extra pace, so long as no mistake is made, rather insures the safe negotiation of fences than otherwise; and young animals, such as the chesnut ridden by Lily, as often as not jump more freely and safely for being ridden hurdle-race pace, than if fretted and balked by being pulled together for their fences.

That they did not deserve this animosity was no reason against Cherry and Co. being in the same field with Cresswell, a mile from home, while far on the right gleamed the blue habit of Miss Harper, abreast and inside of them, Vainables, as a half-way house, picking the gap between her and the rest of the van.

"Look at her, Lily!" said Cherry; almost letting the cat out of the bag in his ambition for his ally. "She's as cunning as an old greyhound hiding for the wrench. She'll beat us all a field by the last turn."

"How do you mean? Take care; you're crossing me."

"It's all right, bend to the right; take this gap in the corner, that's the way of the line. See, old Termagant there! two fields ahead of us all."

Presently he continued:

"Miss Harper knows the line; we have ridden it before with her, and she is making for the winning point, inside the trail. It ain't quite fair, and I want you to beat her."

"What isn't fair?"

"Not to ride the line: it is not as if we were running a fox, and knowledge of the country and judgment of the point he was making for all came into the science. We all know, before we start, where the finish is; and any one could reach it in a straight mile from the start if he chose. We shall find old Harper and Mr. Lester May there, as it is, long before us."

"And she is cutting corners ?" asked Lily, distractedly jealous of pride of place against one of her own sex.

"Just so; but I think, by Jove, she has cut just one too many. Look out! there's some water in the next field but one," he added, as he noted the row of alders over the next fence.

"All right follow Cresswell, Lily. Well done !" And the chesnut, still with plenty in him, though steadying down from his first eagerness, cleared the thirteen feet of water required of him, just as Vainables, thoroughly alarmed at what he saw in front of him, pricked his nag fifty miles an hour up to Miss Harper, ignoring his bet, to do him justice, in his anxiety at her evident indiscretion; and catching her rein, turned her round, saying, "Good gracious, you mustn't try that! We are out of the line-we must cross over this fence on the left and there try where it is narrow."

"Is it too big?" asked Miss Harper, innocently, wistfully regarding the thirty feet of black slime and dirty water from which her escort had just restrained her.

"You'd never come alive out of it. That's right, now I think we can take it in this field; there between the pollards, Miss Harper."

But Miss Harper's heart was wandering (not wavering), as she saw in lament Lily's golden hair adrift on her shoulders nearly a hundred yards a-head of her, and on the right side of the ominous Styx, still in front of herself and Vainables. Whether she loosed the brown's head, or whether she tried to steady him too late, he changed his stride, took off too soon, and in an instant was down, throwing up a hundredweight of slime and water with his hind legs as he dropped them on the edge of the filthy dyke.

Cherry, with his head carelessly over his right shoulder, saw the catastrophe, and broke out into an exclamation:

"That's the last fence, Lily-Joe is in the next field; if you follow Cresswell you will be all right-I must go back to her."

"What is it?" she exclaimed, pulling up alongside of him as he began to turn the flea-bitten grey.

"Miss Harper 's got a nasty fall, I am afraid; you go on, dear; I'll go back to her."

"And so shall I, of course," she said, oblivious instantly of all pride of place, and they re-crossed the next fence to the scene of the accident.

Miss Harper, pale as an Adelphi heroine, was standing safely on her feet, apparently unhurt-but ruined for the picturesque by the shower of slime that had bedabled her hat and shoulders-bending over the head of the brown horse, which lay panting and powerless, his hind quarters trailing uselessly and piteously in the mire behind him.

Lily had dismounted in an instant, and was beside her.

"You are not hurt, are you, Miss Harper? Please say you are not injured," and she put her arm impulsively round the dismounted heiress as if they had been allies of years instead of acquaintances of the hour.

"I am not hurt, thank you, but poor Forester!" and Lily Gray thought none the worse of her when, regardless of two comparatively strange gentlemen spectators of the scene, she broke down in tears as she bent over her favourite.

"I am afraid it is a broken back," said Vainables; "come away, Miss Harper, it is no good for you to stay here, we must get a team and try to move him out of the water before we can decide his fate."

Cherry Clare, silent hitherto, had walked knee-deep into the slush, and was disengaging the saddle from the unfortunate brown.

"I shall not leave him yet," said Miss Harper, resolutely, "please fetch my groom here to me."

"You must ride my horse home," said Cherry to her, as Vainables reluctantly cantered off to obey orders, and left the girls alone with the junior cornet.

Miss Harper was too distraite to say much; but Cherry had his reward in her glance of reply.

"He will carry a lady, and is quite safe-oh, you can't think how sorry I am!" And but for the tragedy of the poor horse's broken back, Cherry, his hands and legs smeared in black slime, as he extricated the side-saddle from the injured horse, looked a comical personification of a comforter. Whether he felt inclined to cry in concert I cannot say, but he thoughtlessly put his mudstained fingers to his cheek, and so added to the burlesque of his appearance.

By the time that Cherry had shifted the saddle to his grey, the whole field had come to the scene, lavish of course of condolences and suggestions.

Nothing could be done but to leave the brown in charge of the groom till he could be put out of his misery.

Miss Harper could have meant no intentional rudeness to Vainables as she declined his proffered assistance, and accepted Cherry's muddy hands to place her upon the back of the grey.

"I hope you are satisfied, now that you have landed your bet," said Vainables, either in spleen or confusion of persons, in a loud sotto voce to Cherry, as the latter settled Miss Harper's foot in the stirrup.

"What bet does he mean?" asked Miss Harper, suddenly breaking a silence as she rode the grey round to gain the main road, and Cherry walked by her side.

"Oh, nothing--I don't know-I mean he doesn't mean me, its somebody else," and Cherry's confusion was too evident.

"HERE'S

SPORT INDEED!”

SHAKSPEARE

BY LORD WILLIAM LENNOX.

CHAP. CVIX.

When cold and frost may keep many a reader ensconced in a snug arm-chair before a bright cheery fire, it may not be out of place to bring forward some indoor amusements, past and present. Here we must express our surprise that there exist certain persons, clerical as well as laymen, who denounce card-playing as sinful, and that it leads to gambling. It may be so, but a rubber of whist, a hand at ecarté, or a round game for half-penny and penny postage stamps we consider, as a late turfite used to term it, "Werry 'armless." Among those who have ridiculed cards may be mentioned the author of " Waverley," who thus writes: "To dribble away life," says Sir Walter Scott, "in exchanging bits of painted pasteboard round a green table, for the paltry concern of a few shillings, can only be excused in folly or superannuation. It is like riding on a rocking-horse, where your utmost exertion never carries you a foot forward; it is a kind of mental treadmill, where you are perpetually climbing, but can never rise an inch !" The same remark might be made about a variety of other games. Cricket, for example, might be termed holding a piece of wood to check a leather ball. Fishing might be termed, as it has been, "a fool at one end and a worm at another." Billiards might be said to be knocking a few ivory balls over a "board of green cloth." Skating might be instanced as gliding iron-shod over a piece of frozen water; in short, all sports, however manly, may be ridiculed, and as for Sir Walter's remark as to "bits of painted pasteboard," we will merely say that it requires much intellect to play a good rubber of whist, or game at Ecarté, almost as much as in playing a game of chess, which the Wizard of the North would probably describe as moving bits of carved wood or ivory over a table

divided into squares. Among other indoor games, chess ranks deservedly very high, and that it is of ancient origin will be found from the following statement. Pliny in a letter to Geminius alludes to the game of chess; and it would appear that this game among the Romans was much of the same nature as modern chess. Their men, which they called Latculi or Latrunculi, were made sometimes of wax, and sometime of glass, and were distinguished by black and white colours. The invention of it has been carried by some so high as the siege of Troy, but Peter Texeiras in his history of Persia (as quoted by Pitiscus in his Lex. Antiq. Rom.) imagines it to be of Persian origin; because, he says, in all countries where this game is played the names of the men are either the same as, or plainly a corruption of those given to them in the Persian language. Allusions to this game are frequent in the classic writers; but the fullest description of it is contained in the following lines, taken from a poem addressed to Piso, which is to be found at the end of some editions of Lucan, and is generally ascribed to that author :

"When, to relieve the labours of my mind,

Thou turn'st from deep research in arts refined,
Not in soft indolence you waste the hour,
But happier genius still exerts its pow'r.
To mimic war the radiant troops are led,
And martial ranks the varied table spread :
There sable bands, and here a snow-white train,
With doubtful fate of war the fight maintain.
But who with thee shall dare dispute the field?
Led by thy hand what warrior knows to yield?
Or if he fall, he falls with glorious pride,
His vanquish'd foe extended by his side.
Unnumber'd stratagems thy forces try:
Now artful feign, and only feign, to fly.
Now boldly rushes midst the ranks of war,

The chief who viewed the slaught'ring scene from far.

This, bravely daring in the arduous toil,

Repels the host advancing to the spoil;

While cautious that moves dreadful on and slow,

And fraudful meditates the certain blow;

What tho' in guise a slave he seems in chains,

Two captives he in durance close detains.

But see yon hero with impetuous haste

Bursts thro' the ranks, and lay the ramparts waste.

While thus the mighty battle glows around,

And prostrate chiefs bestrew the well-fought ground,
Full and unbroken lo! thy squadrons stand,

Or scarce one warrior lost of thy command;
The captive crowds thy victory proclaim,
And foes confess thy undisputed fame."

Pepys tells us of games of forfeits that were played at taverns by ladies and gentlemen during the profligate reign of Charles the Second, as will be seen from the following extract from the Admiralty Secretary's most amusing Diary.

"4th February, 1661.-To the tavern, where Sir William Pen, and the Comptroller, and several others were, men and women; and we had a very great and merry dinner; and after dinner the Comptroller begun some sports, among others, the naming of people round, and afterwards demanding questions of them, that they are forced to answer their