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"Who's for a card, or a sheet-list, names, weight, plates, and colours of the riders, and of the horses' eyebrows?" bellowed out a dozen ragged ruffians. Jerry, dressed in naval uniform-whether with a view to be "pitchforked to Greenwich Hospital, eventually, we will not here stop to inquire. A few countrymen had assembled round a pea and thimble table, listening to the harangue.

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Vone, two, three, the game of the little pea; here's Hegham, Vindsor, Staines (placing the thimbles in the relative positions of those towns): Vindsor's vere the Queen lives: now, the only difference between Her Majesty's castle and my thimble, is, that her's is permanent, and mine is locomotive. Now I will bet any gentleman five or ten, as they don't say where the little object is: it's I to hide, and you to find. All it requires is a quick eye, and a good hobservation. The game is called the multum in parvo,' which means as you may win a werry large sum, with a werry small capital. Now, gentlemen, make your game; them as plays can't vin, and them as don't play can't expect to win; faint heart never von fair lady. I'll stake five sovereigns, all good ones-(for I makes 'em at home) (aside)—as nobody diskivers the pea. My father lost a large sum at this game; but hadn't he a right to do what he liked with his own? as the Duke of Newcastle says."-Here a bumpkin put down a sovereign, which was speedily transferred to the pocket of the pie (pea) voleur. The tents of plunder held out their usual attractions to the needy and avaricious.

At the mechanical horse-racing, a Bill Sykes looking sort of a man, clad in calico jockey cap and jacket, nankeen "oh, no! we never mention thems," and top-boots, requested you to walk in and make your game. At the Doncaster and St. James's Club-houses, many experienced the truth of the words of Danté :

"All ye who enter here, abandon hope."

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Out of sight of the police constables, in the wood, some al-fresco hells flourished, where female deities, tawdry Proserpines, presided, and plundered the votaries of their shillings and " coppers with the most wonderful celerity and impudence. The stand was "booked full inside and out." The sun darted forth its hottest rays; or, as Sam Slick would say, "it was none of your British hangin', shootin', drownin', throatcuttin' weather; but a clear sky, rael cheerfulsome." In the stand was a display of beauty, which few similar scenes could boast of: "Knights and dames,

And all that wealth and lofty lineage claims,
Appear."

:

But it is not for rank, beauty, and fashion, that it stands preeminent :
for the quality of its sport it may challenge competition with the
most popular races in the country. The racing was first-rate all that
the keenest turfite could desire, and plentiful enough to satisfy the
most voracious appetite. In our September Number it is given at
full.
As to keeping the ground clear, there was neither confusion nor
danger by a perseverance in the cause, success must follow. We
may, in the words of Shakspeare say,

"Sound drums and trumpets boldly and cheerfully,
'Goodwood and sport,' Richmond and victory!"

438

SONG.

BY J. E. CARPENTER, ESQ.

HERE's a health to old Bacchus-the rosy, the gay,
In bumpers o'er-brimming and bright;
Thou scare-crow of fools, puling sorrow, away!
We meet to be merry to-night.

The cynics may cry, when our glasses they spy,
"How thoughtless, how silly they be!"
But they never know half we enjoy in a laugh,
When merry and happy are we!

Oh! the eyes that surround us are beaming and bright,

As the bumpers we pour to the brim ;

Is there one would not join in our revels to-night?

We are none the less wise, boys, for him!

For the man who would pass from the wine freighted glass,

But a cold-hearted stoic must be;

He cannot tell half we enjoy in a laugh,

When merry and happy are we.

Then fill up your glasses, while memory flies
To those who are far from the scene;

Here's a bumper to each that we fondliest prize,
And first-To Our Lady, the QUEEN!

Then again to old Bacchus, who gladdens each heart,
The jolly, the jovial, the free,

Who gives to us half the true zest of a laugh,
When merry and happy are we!

Leamington Spa.

LIMNINGS FROM LIFE.-No. 3.

ADOPTING the courteous maxim of our Gallic neighbours, "place aux dames," surely, in a work like this, it is well done, that to the Lady of "WILTON" our first "place" should thus be devoted.

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THE turf season, so lately concluded, was one of singular sympathy in its morale and physique. Men's moods seemed to have borrowed their complexions from the cloud and tempest which transformed that we learned from our Almanacks was summer, into a most unquestionable "winter of discontent." As a pendant to this, however (the better aspect of the medal), the general character of the sport was much above the ordinary average. The great stakes shewed a very considerable increase almost in every instance; while new ones, with the promise of being permanent, were instituted at several meetings. The quantity of material which this paper must, of necessity, comprise, will be my apology for the brief introduction accorded to the matter of it, and the abruptness with which I am compelled to hasten my reader" in medias res."

The prelude to the Craven Meeting, at Newmarket, was an unauspicious one-the sale of Lord Suffield's racing stock. With the causes that led to this, it is not my purpose to deal: every one must lament the effect; for short as the career of that nobleman was, it was not more brief than honourable. The feature of this meeting was the debut of Cæsar, Lord Jersey's crack Derby nag. was by no means a striking first appearance. The running of Caravan for the Oatlands was something more attractive. It made me anticipate a profitable year for him; and I was not wrong in adding to my notice of that race, "he must prove a dangerous customer in the provinces." During this week, Cæsar rose to three to one against him for the Derby: I spoke of such an investment as far from a wise speculation: what did the event prove? ... The First Spring Meeting, in the affair of weather, left little to be complained of; but the sport, present and prospective, was without interest. The Two ThouGuineas Stakes witnessed Cæsar's defeat by the Corsair; and, for a miracle, a good stake transferred to the credit side of Lord Lichfield's turf account. Don John won a good prize in a bad form. Cara, a nice filly-not in the Oaks-and an honest runner as a two-year-old, won the One Thousand Guineas; and beyond that there was nothing that needs recapitulation.

Passing the Second Spring a meeting without a race worth going from the rooms to the heath to look at-we come to that of Chester. May introduced a brilliant week to the dull old city of the Dee. A better spirit, however, than heretofore, influenced the preparation for it, and it had its reward. The start for the Trades Cup was a sight worthy Epsom or Doncaster. A field of eighteen-many of them first-class horses-is not brought to the post every day in the

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