occupants of the reserved seats. Now for the jumping itself. "Have you seen the leaping at Islington?" inquired a friend. "No." Then by all means do so; you will never forget it!" Accordingly we went, and first saw the ponies jump, which was all very well, as it was good fun for the boys who rode them, though we are sorry to say one poor little fellow got a severe rick in the back from his pony "bucking" the gorse, which was as high as himself. Two of them had a shy at the water-jump, and got over very well, going at it like lions, which, by the way, goes to prove, if dwarfs are sharper than giants, as is generally held to be the case in the human race, the reverse holds good with horses; for the big ones for the most part did not see it, and either declined, or jumped most unwillingly. They thus showed themselves to be much wiser than their owners and riders. When the horses came in the scene of uproar and confusion was beyond all description, some riding one way at a fence, some another, at one and the same time, hacks, hunters, and cobs of low degree being mixed up in one confused mass. The secre'ary mounted a hack, and "tittupped about in the mélée, gesticulating and imploring them to keep order, but all to no purpose. He was wise in his generation; for it was exceedingly warm for what Dickey Boggledike termed "the fut people" -and the poor fellows who repaired damages and kept the tan raked were in a position that receiving cavalry in square would be a fool to. One of them was so near jumped upon that the horse's head knocked off his hat, and he only saved himself by scuttling away in the most ludicrous fashion. Then the riding was a sight to witness. Few men, except the very élite of our amateurs, escape making themselves ridiculous when they get up in public, either for racing or steeplechasing; but here, where the oi polloi attempted to "witch the world with noble horsemanship," the effect beggared description. Could they but see themselves as others see them, many a man would decline playing the clown on horseback. One gentleman managed to get thrown over into the arms of the crowd, who kindly and considerately threw him up into his saddle again, amidst roars of laughter. Another came down and laid gasping like a flat fish, whilst his horse deliberately trotted along his back, luckily without injury. Then there was great splashing into the water-jump by those who condescended to try it, which was a small minority, however. One or two got pretty well over; but with them negociating Mr. Sidney's puddle would be held by hunting-men to be but a poor passport to safety over a country; in fact, a couple of little ponies, as we said above, did it as well as anything. No wonder such crowds are attracted, for it is the most ridiculous and laughable exhibition in London, and surpasses all that Leech ever conceived of fools on horseback. One or two will be killed some day; but as no one with any sense would trust himself in such a situation, perhaps the mourning won't be very great when it happens. -The Sporting Gazette.

THE FATAL ACCIDENT AT THE HORSE SHOW.

On June 10th Dr. Lankester held an inquest at the Angel, Islington, on the body of Mr. Francis Barker, aged fifty-five, horse-dealer, of Westlands, Ingatestone, who fell with his horse while riding round the

The

Mr.

ring at the Agricultural Hall, on Monday afternoon, and died on Wednesday night. Mr. Barker's son said that his father was riding Forester, the property of Mr. Skinner, to show it for sale. witness did not know whether the horse was vicious or not. Thomas Mashiter, of Priest's Estate, Romford, said he saw Mr. Barker in the ring on the Monday. The horse kicked out two or three times violently, but he got him to settle down. He walked him round to where the exit door was. The horse wanted to get out of the ring, but deceased would not let him. The horse then reared, féll over backwards, and lay on deceased, completely covering him. If deceased had not been so good a rider he would have fallen off when the horse reared, and would not have been hurt; but as the horse reared he bent with the horse, and kept on his back, so that he was carried over with him. A verdict of accidental death was returned.

A BAD BUSINESS.

ENGRAVED BY E, HACKER, FROM A PAINTING BY H. L. ROLFE.

"So ho! friend Joshua, thou art early to the road this morning. Has the spirit moved thee and thy righteous brethren to act with true honesty, and pull down yonder tide nets that keep the fish from coming up the river?"

"Surely, friend, not so," answered Joshua firmly, but good humouredly at the same time; "thou canst not expect that our own hands should pull down what our purses established. Thou killest: the fish with spear, line, and coble net; and we with snares and with nets which work by the ebb and the flow of the tide. Each doth what seems to do best in his eyes to secure a share of the blessings which Providence hath bestowed on the river, and that within his own bounds. I prithee seek no quarrel against us, for thou shalt have no wrong at our hand."

"Be assured I will take none at the hand of any man, whether his hat be cocked or broad-brimmed," answered the fisherman. "I tell you in fair terms, Joshua Geddes, that you and your partners are using unlawful craft to destroy the fish in the Solway by stake nets and weirs; and that we, who fish fairly, and like men as our fathers did, have daily and yearly less sport and less profit."

Ominous words these; but they have come to have a very different bearing since the time when Red Gauntlet thus pointed the argument. The spear is now held to be amongst the very worst of weapons by those who "fish fairly," and were another Sir Walter to paint us another fisherman's riot he would arrange for an attack on the poaching crew who work silently a-nights with torch and spear.

F

60

CHAP. I.

"COUNCIL OF WAR."

I am partial to a nap before dinner never more so than when fortified with a judicious sherry and bitters, and when the mess readingroom is quiet and empty, the billiard-room desolation, chances of an ante-prandial rubber reduced to nil.

I don't think I'm particularly bad-tempered, at the same time, when once boredom has been lulled in the arms of Morpheus, it is, to say the least, annoying to be brusquely and recklessly awakened from one's Elysium simply to gratify the idleness, noisy curiosity, and gossiping propensities of some loafing subaltern, who has exhausted his own stock of amusement for the day, and seeks a resource to divert himself at my expense. I call it selfish. Perhaps I was the least trifle crusty when, in reply to young Vainables, our latest joined cornet, who tramped in like a cart-horse, booted, spurred, pink coated and mud-stained, and enforced his query of "Well, doctor; old man, what have you got to say for yourself?" with a foolishly facetious dig in the ribs, from the butt-end of a thumb that could have had no joint of the os phalangis in its composition, to judge from its rigidity. I retorted,

"That I wished he would keep his hoofs to himself; that it was most improper that half-broken horses should be suffered to come larking up-stairs into the officers' quarters."

"Quite right, old boy make a mem. of that to the chief, and also that no pigs are to be allowed to snore in the reading-room, either before or after dinner;" and he repeated the prodding process with the other thumb, even more adamantine than its predecessor.

I was on the point of making an angry remark, when our company was augmented by Vass our Major, Robinson our adjutant, and a ranker, not half a bad sort of fellow for all that, Cresswell, another cornet, and Rasper the senior lieutenant for purchase; the two latter in uniform, just returned from stable duty,

"What sort of a gallop, Vainables?" asked Cresswell, as he entered.

"No account, as usual. It's simply heartbreaking; nine days out this month, two blanks, and the best run a ring of two miles after a three-legged vixen. I shall chuck it up, and realise the horses. before the season is too far spent. It's simple waste of time and money to keep'em in the stable, They're a useful lot, doctor: I'll let you have your pick of the bushel, and cheap."

"Thank you," I grunted: "it's all very well for a spindle-shanked whipping-post, like you, to get outside a lot of straight-shouldered, spavined brutes; but I have too much respect for my person; and, much as I respect piety in general, I have an objection to beasts saying their prayers while they are underneath me. I'll allow you thirty shillings for the hide of the iron-grey as a door-mat, or, if you fatten them a bit, I'll see about making you a low bid for a subject for vivisection."

Further sleep was out of the question after the influx of arrivals; but I had the satisfaction of creating a laugh at Vainable's expense from the extreme liberality of my offers.