THE OMNIBUS.

"There he sat, and, as I thought, expounding the law and the prophets, until on drawing a little nearer, I found he was only expatiating on the merits of a brown horse."-BRACEBRIDGE HALL,.

Our last month's racing diary ended with the first day of Goodwood, which gave employment to 164 horses, and, in spite of its hard ground, was up to its modern mark. The arrangements, however, are only of a shabby kind. Nothing can be more miserable than the telegraph; but we learn with thankfulness that they are going to get a new pair of scales, as the present, to say nothing of the weights, are almost worn out. The meeting does not deserve to thrive, as the ghost of old Elwes himself could not do less for it, if he had the "added money" in his dominion. "Glorious Goodwood," in fact, gives £100 to be run for on its first day, £200 on its second, the same on its third, and £250 and a Queen's Plate on its fourth, making in all £855, or not half of what they give either at Chester or Doncaster. Wednesday will long be remembered as the date of the greatest crash that ever took place on a race course. it was only another proof, as The Life well remarks, that "feathers" are the curse of racing, as not one boy in a hundred who goes to scale 4st. 11lt can be expected to ride an awkward horse. Let 5st. 5lbs. of 5st. 71b. be the minimum in every handicap, then we shall have a chance of seeing old and experienced jockeys up, instead of being obliged to absent themselves from large meetings, because they cannot positively calculate on enough to pay their expenses. The Great Yorkshire Handicap at Doncaster sets good example, as it is made between 9st. and 5st. 5lbs., and has the 8st. 12lbs. raising rule to boot. This year has been very disastrous to jockeys, but it is a strange fact that none of them within our recollection have ever been killed on the spot. With the remembrance of Conolly's fate still in our minds, we fear it must be many a month before Bartholomew is seen in the saddle again; and as Ashmall with rest gets to ten stone, he will have some severe work to draw the weight for the autumn meetings, after his period of bitter leisure. Pretty Boy's performance at 7st. 8lbs. in the stakes was so wonderful, that had he only been in the St. Leger, the betting between him, Ellington, Fazzoletto, and Rogerthorpe would have given it a zest it has not had for years. Zeta ran her Newcastle distance two miles " very sperity," but began to die away from that point; and probably Abdale's dear friend Mr. B. began to insinuate to the Richmond people that she was over-trained.

The sun's perpendicular heat" not only "illumined the depths of the sea," as we sallied forth from Worthing on the Cup morning, but seemed as if it would scorch " each valley, tower, and town" into one Fast brown mass. Never did we feel such a seething atmosphere

before (it was 125° in the sun, and 95o in the shade); and, by way of adding to our delights, the railway sweated us of 7s. for a second-class return-ticket to ride the thirty-six miles to Drayton and back. A weary, dusty walk, slightly relieved by a cut across a few fields, and some way-side ginger-beer, brought us through a flock of Jonas-Webblooking southdowns, which we had fairly to kick up out of their dreamy doze to effect a passage into the park, in which the first object which presented itself was "The Vicar," on an ugly bay hack, with a bit of the "Clifden straw" peeping from beneath his overcoat. Slowly we wended our way through the woods, till we at last paused near the new rifle shooting tubes, to try our luck till the bell rang. The first race had not much in it. Not being disposed "to give the Duke a guinea,' we would fain have climbed the hill to watch them round; but as its herbage was almost hot enough to fry a cutlet on, the coolest plan was to keep moving. And thus we watched little Shoreham gamely and steadily making his own running, and Claret and Sandboy "cracking" in succession. The running of Claret and Shoreham is the oddest we know. They ran a hilly two miles at Ascot, and Shoreham won a head. Over the 2 miles at Stockbridge, Claret won a neck; and now over the 3 m. 5 fur. at Goodwood, Claret goes down easily by a dozen lengths. The Bentinck Memorial convinced us that South-Western was preciously ugly. Chevalier d'Industrie is rather leggy and coarse-headed, but he has a fine frame, which looks like staying, and will fill out well with another winter. Ayacanora (who caught it heavily with the spurs) has changed her style considerably since we looked her over as a yearling at Burleigh. She is still a light-boned but good-backed mare, and walks rather wide in front. Blink Bonny is neat, lacks the length of the Melbournes, and is good to tell by her Kingston-like sort of amble and uneasy tail whisk, as she goes up to start. We hardly know why, but we have still a strong impression that she will not stay next year. Here she won in a hand canter, amid enthusiastic shouts from her Yorkshire admirers, who are disposed to transfer to her all their ancient "Nancy" love. There was not much to see on the course between this and the Cup. Still, from the conversation of the men of Sussex, who said “ that the railway fairly beat the neighbourhood," it was plain to see that the old spongeing days have departed. Chichester and Bognor have pretty nearly played their game out, and Worthing and Brighton got the lion's share of the visitors. They called to mind at Worthing how Palmer and Cook were there together last year, the one at the Sea House, and the other at the Marine Hotel, and how cozily they set off together to the course each morning. The latter served his time at Worthing to Mr. Dennett the solicitor, and the dinner he gave at the Marine when he came of age was a very grand affair. Tom Paddock, who is training in the neighbourhood, was wandering along the course, chaffing his admirers; and three of "the fayrest of the fayre," with white slips and immense cherry bows all down them, both in front and rear, were flaunting about, to the intense admiration of the Sussex swains, and the disgust of their russet-clad "lady-loves." At last the Cup horses were in array, and marching leisurely past us. Strange to say, their parade was an exact avant courier as regarded the first two of their places at the finish. Rogerthorpe is a little thick, low, and level horse, who pokes his blood-like head straight out. He

must be rather more than fifteen-one, but thick through, and looks like a regular little workman, who would never say die. When Sam Rogers jumped off him after the Derby, he assured the Days that he was a stayer; and it was the knowledge of this which induced us to say last month that "he can go a distance well enough if he keeps well." Yellow Jack succeeded; then Vandermulin, who is drooping in the back, like all the Van Tromps, but by no means so fine-drawn as he was at Epsom. Monarque, who looked well, but rather raw-boned; Muscovite, so thick through, that Nat seemed quite ludicrous on him; Heir of Linne and the rest. The race is easily told, as the little bay Hero led almost from end to end, except when "The Frenchman" must needs drive his horse along like a mad thing. Such muffs may do for the Champs d'Elysées, but they are not worth their carriage over the Channel. Wells, thanks to the weather, had got to 7st. 7lbs. for the Coroner-a choice which surprised every one not a little, as Yellow Jack (this was his fifth great second this year) was quite up to the mark. The Clementina gelding, who had 21lbs. of allowance, ran with considerable pluck and goodhumour, and at one moment "the straw" looked quite formidable on the far side. Poor Vandermulin had not a chance throughout, and his owner looked the picture of melancholy, as this fine-looking blackbrown, with whom he once fondly hoped to play Jack-up-the-orchard with the ring, walked about near him and Flintoff, very unmistakeably lame in the off hind-leg. It was hard to be so beaten with this horse, and to have sold Shoreham (a winner on that day) as well.

This over, I went to have a look at little Lambourne, who kept backing all over the course as they saddled him. He is a clever, compact, round little horse, with very nice quarters, and gives me quite the idea of being a Burleigh-bred Beiram. Imperieuse is a nice mare, with an especially blood-like head and neck; but the 1,800 guinea Lord of the Hills is by no means the pretty animal he promised to be; low, with good length, but plain and Camelish about his croup. My impression is that he will be found to be a race-horse; and, in spite of his being anything but fit, he "came again in the race as only a race-horse can. In the Racing Stakes, George Brown, whom I spoke of at the Ascot Meeting of 1855, as one of the nicest-built horses I had ever seen, ran in form at last, though the field was anything but strong. It is pleasant to see Captain White's pluck, in taking to his friend's horses and paying his forfeits, so amply rewarded at last. Polmoodie was too stale to "act," or the winning might have been jeopardized. The Captain's mare Tyne seemed likely to make a strong fight with Mincepie in the Nassau next day; but the filly, bad as she is at a distance, carried here 9lbs. extra triumphantly; Mary Copp, the 3,100-guinea favourite, being beaten nearly three lengths. Wells must have been indulging in a good dinner, as he missed a winning 7st. 7lbs. mount on Martinet for the Nursery Stakes, in which Skirmisher showed the same temper that he did at the Port at Catterick. Manganese 8st. was "nowhere" in the Chesterfield Handicap, and Goldhill ran Prettyboy to half a length in a Queen's Plate race, which lasted 17 minutes, and with two handsome subscriptions for the injured jockeys, and very favourable bulletins, a fair week of racing came to an end. It was a capital wasting" time, and little Crouch rode 6st. 7lbs. for the Stakes. Middleton kept straight for the Queen's Plate at Canterbury, but the other races of the

week were marked by no incident, except at Hartlepool, where Norton won (or rather divided) after a dead heat, which is the first slice of winning that has fallen to the Voltigeurs.

Few Goodwood visitors got farther on their road home than Brighton, where, after four days of rest and dipping, they at length adjourned to the sun-baked bills, to discuss a very fair programme. South-Western in the lucky Fordham's hands, raised the drooping spirits of Mr. Edward Rawson Clark, and the Clementina gelding, who is still nameless (though some dub him Excelsior), won his maiden race in a canter with Crouch, who did not draw under 6st. 9lbs., this time on his back. Aleppo, in spite of his 9lbs. extra, which caused him to give 12lbs. to Bandalore, was obliged to make the running to suit his peculiar temperament, and was beaten easily in the Biennial; but the feature of the day was that three Surplices each won a race-a piece of luck seldom accorded to any horse. Lord Clifden is still faithful to his son of Crucifix, and he seems to possess in the Bishop of Osnaburg (the title, by-the-bye, of a royal duke) one of the best of the breed out. Theodora was all the rage against Manganese for the Champagne Stakes, on account of their Gratwicke running; but the Lincolnshire parson's mare is very clever at a mile, and got rid of her two opponents in a canter when she did "come." We think it was Aldcroft whom we heard saying of her, after she won the One Thousand, that "she was never half a good mare," and he seems not far out. Questionable brought back to within 35gs. on Friday the sum the Duke of Bedford claimed her for on Thursday, and won a fine race over the Bristol mile by a head; and Orianda again disappointed" Mr. T. Walker" and Co. in her struggle with Farmer's Daughter filly. Many stayed quietly on at the Old Ship and elsewhere for Lewes, and they were good judges, as we have seldom known Brighton more delightful after the heat had mercifully departed, and the Steyne was fairly alive at night with everything, from the mounted cavalier to the baby in the goat-chaise; Mr. Robert Pettit, in a straw hat with a blue ribbon, representing the jockey interest.

St. Wilfred's racing prospects seem to get better and better under Messrs. Peart and Johnson's charge, and about sixty horses arrived. Saunterer and Underhand giving Skirmisher (who was much fancied) 8lbs, and 6lbs. respectively, made a splendid race home with him, and only a neck separated the three. Red White and Blue ran to her Middleham Moor form, at last, in the Nursery Handicap; and Radulphus, 6st. 9lbs., and Mirage, 5st. 12lbs., were behind Midhope in the Members' Plate, while Sulpitia, if we remember rightly, scored the first race for Vatican.

Alderman Copeland's meeting, where Judge Johnson took the chair, leaving Mr. George Hatfield to finish Ripon, was as good as the dry ground would allow of. Oakball won the Champagne Stakes easily, with Tommy Cliffe in the saddle; but we were sorry to see that Marlow did not appear on the Alderman's horses, and conclude that his leg will hardly let him waste yet. It is no joke to draw the weight after not being in the sweaters for 15 months. T. Cliffe was in luck here, as he won three out of the six races he rode, while Fordham won seven out of thirteen at Brighton. Misfortune (late Mishap) was good enough to win something at Bridgewater, and the Oateses, who are generally lucky in Scotland, swept the best thing at Airdrie with Prince Plausible.

The midweek of August was one mass of meetings. Pretty Boy, of whom it was once averred that he would walk over for the Sussex County Cup, and then be sent in a special to Reading, made a good fight for the Berkshire Stakes over the latter course; but Mr. Drinkald triumphed over his favourite ground with brother to Grey Tommy, who was just twice the chesnut's age, and gave him 2lbs. Alfred Day "stopped the pace" on Alembic, who seems to have quite recovered his broken bloodvessel, and pulled cleverly through for the Whitley Handicap; and Gemma di Vergy (another jaw-cracker for the ring) and Zaidee had a two hundred and fifty yard finish such as has not been seen this year, Argus ranks it for severity with that between Beehunter and Knight of Avenel, and the racing and betting world will not easily forget what that was like. Zaidee looked both lengthened and thickened since Ascot. "Jimmy" is about the last of the race of Sir Hercules (of whom Hay, don the painter averred, when he looked him over as a model, that he was "thick and puffy about the neck"), and a genuine grandson of Whalebone he is too, though rather coarse to look at, and only a 105 guinea purchase to boot. I conclude, we may look upon him and Goldfinch as within a pound of each other.

Lewes races are not quite in form yet, and the quality of the horsesbar Zaidee and Pretty Boy-was a strange contrast to the Regent's day, when Gohanna, Waxy, Orvile, Dick Andrews, Sancho, Pavilion, and the other great cracks of the day, were walked down there for a match, or the Sixty-Guinea Plate over the green horse-shoe. Abingdon was marked by the re-appearance of Saucebox, who has not taken knocking about so kindly this year as he did last, and the test of the weightcarrying capabilities of "Jimmy," who gave Barbarity 12lbs., got slipped by her sixty yards at the post, and got up and caught her by a head on the post. Kendall rode as well as he did at Reading, and we hope that better things are before him than the steeple-chase riding, in which he figured so well last winter. Ludlow brought some £340 to Mr. Mather, as a soother for his Guildford nisi prius failure; and Wolverhampton, which yearns for compression, was a sadly weak contrast to that of other days. We always used to have a passing peep at this meeting as we returned to Rugby each autumn half, and have tender recollections of it accordingly, which served us for many a week there, and haunt us still. One year we can call to mind how Lord Derby's Cornopean and another, under M. Jones's charge, were at the station; on another, Maid of Monton; then there was Confusionée in her van, with the shrimp John Howlett on the box, and lastly Harry Edwards in change of Epirus. It was, too, the last spot at which we ever set eyes on little Conolly, in days when Sam Darling and Calloway were great in that district, and Marlow and Whitehouse only coming foward. Despite of its ragged aspect, Typee (who has quite supplied Lady Wildair's place to Nat) and Goldhill, and the luckless Sandboy, had two rare head-and-head finishes; and Nettle, after 15 months of quiet, showed herself a thoroughly game mare, and well worth her 430 guinea purchase money. We have had countless instances of studs beginning to run the moment their owners threw them up in disgust, and the proposition seems equally to hold good when a man is divorced from his stud by the scaffold, as Polestar, Comedy, Gemma da Vergy, and Nettle have all shown some racing qualities this year, which Palmer would