even judges, are by no means young huntsmen. Yet they are, broadly speaking, in the zenith of their fame and faculty. To no one more literally and distinctly than to a huntsman does the saying apply, "A man is only as old as he feels." George Carter was a young man at sixty, so was Bob Ward, and you may continue the list with dozens more. On the other hand, the triumphs that have attached themselves to Mr. Fernie's hounds are attributable to another combination, viz., that of a young huntsman (clever as keen, it must be admitted), and a young and equally keen master. Apropos or not, a brief dialogue held with a certain first whip occurs to me here. He had been very successful and very popular in that capacity; and I, like others, bade him luck in his coming vocations (as a huntsman in a flying country). "I wish you well, with all my heart. You are sure to make a huntsman, if you don't let them ride you off your head." And he didn't. But his reply was vastly to the point. "I don't know much about it, sir. But this I do know. A fox must keep the wind behind him, to hear what's coming; and if he doesn't, he wants no hunting." It seems to me, if two triumphant seasons count for anything, he has pretty well proved his theory. Very similar in spirit is another collateral theory, enunciated by a man who never saw a hound in his life, but one that, correctly interpreted and executed, seems to me to form half the secret of success with the clever Grafton huntsman, as it did with Ward, Charles Payn, and other masters of their art, viz., "Be sure you are rite, then go ahed; but in kase ov doubt, go ahed enny wa.-Josh Billings. For all the good and sterling runs there have been, I have known or heard of none of those great tear-away gallops such as occur occasionally-when from two to half-a-dozen men alone could keep hounds in sight, when twenty others would go home sore and disgusted, and when two hundred (who have never seen a hound from start to finish) return that evening, and hug themselves for years after with the assumption that they had had their share in "the best gallop they ever saw in their lives." Mark the expression, by the way; I have heard it used so many times, and so recklessly (haven't you?), that it brings incredulity with its very utterance, and one turns elsewhere at once for measure of the event. It must be allowed that it takes a very remarkable run indeed to bring the Pytchley field into such proportions, or, indeed, the Melton and Harborough phalanx. But such runs, wherein hounds are better than horses, and only the few men who, always among the best, are that day also the best mounted and the luckiest, do come off now and again; and the man who really sees them acquires a happiness that he would not barter for a year of worn life; no, not for ten at the tail end of existence. Melton, on whom there had been a whispered reproach (a whisper too widely spread to render its repetition an imper

tinence here), that riding had gone out of fashion, and that five o'clock tea had grown to be the popular meal of the day, is all herself again this season. The new blood, so sorely needed to quicken the pulse of action-faint and sluggish almost to inanition has been forthcoming freely, and of proper consistency and hue. The elder knights thereupon awoke to action, looked to their arms, and burnished their armour, with the result that the Melton field has all the vigour and verve of old-thanks to the advent of Colonel Wardrop and his merry men, and of a young, but very representative, detachment from Her Majesty's troops of the Household. I am told, too, that a flying visit from Captain Arthur Smith, whose coat-tails had not been looked upon for half-a-dozen years, did no little to rekindle the smouldering embers of Melton's life and energy. Market Harborough and her district, again, are reviving the position held in Mr. Tailby's best era, though whether the town itself will ever regain the popularity, on the strength of which it built its many hotels and stables, and to which it owes the immortality conferred on it by Whyte-Melville, is a matter more difficult to determine than even the future of foxhunting.

Of the comparative merits of the various packs at the present time, it would be taking too much upon myself to offer opinion here. Premising, however, that I look upon the Grafton as the most killing pack in the Shires of the present day—and at least, as uniform in work and appearance, as any other-it occurs to me I may venture a word or two, suggested by kennel requirements at this time of year. Were I building or maintaining a pack of foxhounds, I would-as half the masters of England are doing-first pay my respects as closely as possible to the Belvoir, where Gillard can draw you ten couple of stallion hounds of grand form and almost incomparable lineage. Had I enough of Belvoir blood (if such a state. were possible), and a sufficiency of brood bitches of substance in my kennel, I would go to the Grafton for their best representatives of the great Burton-Dorimont line. If I wanted brood bitches I would appeal to Pytchley Solomon, the most stalwart and by no means the worst of the Bramham Sailors; and while there would take note of the beautiful Paradox, one of the best bred hounds in England. A great choice of stud-hounds is to be found in Lord Willoughby de Broke's beautiful pack-with a special combination of the great hunting strains of Quorn Alfred, Lord Coventry's Rambler, and Belvoir Fallible, Brusher, etc. The same sentence is applicable to the Quorn, where Lord Fitzhardinge's best blood also comes into play. And here I should fix first and foremost upon Songster. It has not been my lot to see the Quorn in the field many times during the last two seasons; but on each occasion I confess to being struck by the busy quickness displayed by every hound. There was never a looker-on among them. BROOKSBY.

The National Regatta.

AFTER a lapse of fifteen years, the National Regatta is to be revived. A strong committee has been formed, including the Lord Mayor, Lord Londesborough, Sir John Astley, Sir Edward Birkbeck, Captains of the leading Metropolitan Clubs, and a few prominent University oarsmen. As everyone is aware, professional rowing and sculling in England has for a long time been at a very low ebb, so it is sincerely to be hoped that the matter will be well taken in hand by the British public, and every assistance given to those gentlemen who are willing to devote both time and expense in order to improve the rowing of the English professional.

The task is a hard one, and the committee fully realise the difficulties with which they have to contend, but they do not shrink from them. It is a matter for deep regret that of recent years professional races have not been conducted in such a manner as true sportsmen could wish. It is not my intention to make any direct charges, but merely to point out one of the main difficulties. Every precaution will be taken to ensure fair play, and the committee will not hesitate to disqualify any individual or crew with whose conduct they may have reason to be dissatisfied.

I venture to say that the professionals are mainly to blame for the low standard of their rowing at the present day, and for the lack of interest taken in their performances by the public.

As an instance, I may mention the recent race for the championship of the world between the late H. E. Searle and O'Connor, when much dissatisfaction was felt by their supporters on account of the small attendance to witness the race. The question was asked-"Where are the British public? and have they ceased to take any interest in boat racing? The answer was, they have ceased to care for such racing as they have lately been accustomed to. But I am glad to say that in this particular case the public were wrong, for no two men ever could row more honestly from start to finish than Searle and O'Connor. Let us hope that our professionals will take a lesson from them.

My remarks may seem severe, but too much stress cannot be laid on the matter if the National Regatta is to prove a success. It is not to be expected that good rowing will be forthcoming for at least a year or more, but the committee hope to carry on the regatta for three years, and then if possible to make it an annual event.

Let us hope that the revival of this regatta will produce some sculler who will bring back to England the championship of the world.

Our Discussion Forum.

No. III.

Scene: A RAILWAY CARRIAGE, G.N.R., BETWEEN PETERBOROUGH AND KING'S CROSS.

Company: Rear-Admiral AUBURN OF AUBURN; Sir JOHN CHEPESIDE, Knight; Mr. YEOMAN WEST; Mr. A. PETTENANT; The MIDLOTHIAN; Mr. VESPERTINUS BADGER, of The Evening Cocksure.

Admiral A. When last we met, Mr. Badger was groaning over the volume of Cattle Show criticism which was pouring in upon his columns. You are likely, Mr. Editor, in the next fortnight or so, to have plenty of Horse Show reporting to do!

Mr. V. B. Yes; but the more the better! Irishmen don't often complain of having too much cavalry talk. Like the man in Goldsmith's venison pasty lines, "We must keep a corner for that."

Sir J. C. Not when you have Shires in Islington Hall one week, and thoroughbreds, in the same stalls, the next. That is coming rather too much like a tavern-waiter's order-" Chop underdone! Cutlet to follow!" But surely "cavalry talk" is a large phrase for comment upon such incidents as these Shows.

Admiral A. Why, there won't be a type of horse at either Show whose predecessors have not carried a man, and generally that man has been a soldier. The Shires are the descendants of what carried the medieval knights; and the thoroughbreds are the half-brothers and cousins of the best remounts of the regiments of to-day.

Mr. Y. W.: You don't mean to say that you take seriously that story of Shires coming from the ancient British war horse? I thought it had been a canard flushed in the Strand by some sandwich man, and brought down by an able editor.

Admiral A. Indeed, I do believe the story. Why not? What sort of legs and loins must the horses have had to carry a man in armour made from fully two hundredweight of metal, whilst the steed itself was covered from nose to tail, like a railway goods shed, with corrugated iron.

Sir J. C. Strong ones, no doubt. I think Mr. Editor need not grudge the room for discussions on this head. They surely interest at least as many readers as do inquiries whether the Vestry of St. Patrick-le-Bone, or that of St. Cuthbert-atte-Bowe uses the more unparliamentary language; or as do correspondents anxious to learn how many times one has to sneeze in public before one may claim leave of absence from the office. owing to an attack of influenza."

Mr. V. B.: I have said that I am glad to have the Horse Shows referred to. We always get a few good letters.

Sir J. C. Whether the newspaper criticisms on Horse Shows interest or not, the Shows themselves do. Few facts are more significant than is the recent increase in England of a desire among the younger generation to become good horsemen.

:

The MID. Aweel, aweel! It's a grand ploy at Islington, no doubt! But Glasgow's the place! Ye see horses fine there. Sir J. C. You might just as well say you see fine breeks! Whoever heard of Scotland originating any breed of horses bigger than a Sheltie? By importing our blood you increased the size and substance of your Clydesdale-just as, out of the money brought back from England, your ancestral trews lengthened into modern trousers.

Mr. Y. W.: The Clydesdales are as much a Scotch production as were the Sittyton Shorthorns! But no more! Both do infinite credit to the breeder's skill and opportunities, and neither was, in any sense of the word, indigenous.

Admiral A. What does it matter whence stud or herd originated, so that they be good?

The MID.:

"Three cam' East, and three cam' West,

And three cam' out frae the North Countrie."

What had England on either case-cattle or horses-that she hadn't herself borrowed first?

Mr. V. B. The Universal Plunderer! The country which has harried the world which has brought home the spoil of twenty realms to her own den. But Scotland is "tarred with the same brush." May I cap the Midlothian's quotation out of the mouth of one of his own countrymen :

"No haud thy tongue, thou canty Scot!

Nor seak o' reif nor felonie.

Had every land but its awin kye,

A richt puir and thy land would be!"

It is Britain that has "lifted" the live-stock of the old world, and then has called herself the maker of it.

Sir J. C. So she is! It is idle now to talk about originating. It is very doubtful, indeed, if upon the bit of earth which we call Britain, a single one of the domesticated animals first took shape. But that we have modified every one-stamped upon every one some peculiarity-made every one more and more suitable to our conditions, is quite certain. Let people say what they like about origin, Englishmen have made the horses of half-a-dozen types to be, for their own use, in their own climate, absolutely unapproachable.

Admiral A. I am glad you put in the reservation, " for their own use and in their own climate." With this I agree to your