heavy at the shoulder-point, and with very bad fore-legs. So far, 910 gs. has been the top price in the sales this year, and the Royal yearlings, who struck us as a poor lot in their foal-hood, fetched quite as much as they had any right to do. Their average of 1851-56, for 72 of them, is about 200 gs., which is certainly ample, however much they may declare it does not pay. The oddest notion of breeding has been carried out at these paddocks this season, as I believe Brown Holland, by Van Tromp, arrived to Loupgarou; which is like a man, some few seasons since, sending a Liverpool mare to British Yeoman! The outcry about the high prices at Sir Richard Sutton's sale is not realized as far as five out of the six are concerned, which Mr. R. Sutton bought for himself, as the following table will show :

Bagenal Daly declined from 300 gs. to 105 gs. ; but taking the others, and considering the season of the second sale, it is evident that Mr Sutton knew well what he was about on that memorable thirteenth of December. Freney was then and is still my favourite.

Two Turfites have come to desperate grief at last, and furnished endless gossip for the West-end, along with that brace of sporting solicitors, who did things in such style with their horses, their wines, and their harriers, at Neasdon.

The Derby settling has been very shady, but little is said about it, as so many are running in trouble, and just scratching on for the chapter of accidents. The St. Leger is hardly ever mentioned, and about 3 to 1 against Ellington, 6 to 1 against Fazzoletto, and 10 to 1 against Victoria, are almost the only quotations we have heard; but there will be some slight nibblings at Rogerthorpe, who can go a distance well enough if he keeps well. After the opinions so recently expressed in Brown v. Overbury, the plaintiffs in the Cannobie case will not find much sympathy with the judge; the Turf did not certainly need this internecine war to weaken it; and the only consolation we see in its somewhat gloomy horizon, is that the Derby fell into good hands; the Northumberland Plate ditto, and that Fazzoletto, with health, seems not unlikely to snatch that St. Leger wreath which his dam Canezou, eight years ago, lost by a short neck.

CHARLEY SCUPPER'S RACING YACHT.

CHAPTER II.

Bang! roared the gun from the umpire's vessel; and, as if by magic, the snowy canvas rose like a summer cloud upon the tapering spars of the four yachts which had assembled to contest for the prize. All four had been engaged in honourable emulation on the week previously, when the six cutters sailed the spirited match we have endeavoured to depict in our first chapter. It now appeared that two of the six entered for the present race had withdrawn their names; probably because of the lightness of the wind, and their remote chance of success. It was a totally different affair to the previous one, when there was as much wind as any reasonable yachtsman could desire; but on the present occasion it was but a light summer breeze, such an one as when racing-yachts appear to gather all the wind from miles around and keep it with them, locked and fastened to their lofty sails; and when wherries, smacks, and trading-vessels, as they drift slowly in the tide, with scarcely steerage-way upon them, appear robbed of nature's favours; whilst Eolus is crowding all his charms upon the fairy-like clippers in the race. Such is but a faint picture of the weather on the morning of the match. Every yachtsman knows the risk at starting with a light wind: all are eager to obtain the lead; and the spring is often sprung too soon; and, in canting, unless great caution be used, yachts are apt to foul each other when the offending yacht forfeits all claim to the prize.

Captain Pivot was at the helm, and Charley himself at the spring, when the gun fired. A dash at the spring and a hearty pull on the buoy-rope, the jib being set almost at the same instant, and Captain Pivot is steadily and cautiously canting the yacht, whilst all hands are tugging away at the main and peak halliards, Charley himself lending a hand; when, turning his head, in a moment his face became red as scarlet, as, almost choked with rage and vexation, he roared out

"Mind your helm, Captain! Hard-a-port, for God's sake! Don't you see the Diamond right across your weather bow?"

But it was too late-the mainsail had for a moment obstructed the Captain's view just as the Diamond's sails were filling; and she somewhat too boldly dashing across the bows of the Sooloo, although not so as to prevent the latter going clear of her, had her captain observed her intention a few seconds sooner: Captain Pivot jammed the helm hard-a-port the instant he received the warning, but it was just one instant too late to avoid collision; and the Sooloo poked her bowsprit through the outer cloth of the Diamond's mainsail, leaving an aperture in the shape of a triangular slit a few inches above the seizing. Poor Captain Pivot stamped the deck and swore a terrible oath; he knew that he had forfeited the prize; but, recovering his selfpossession, he wreaked his vengeance upon the captain of the Diamond

for crossing his bows unfairly; but he did this, we thought, merely to screen himself from blame. Every one except the mate, who saw the accident, knew Captain Pivot was in fault, and said there was ample room for him to have got away without fouling had he been a little more cautious. Not so however with the mate, who was standing well forward in the bow of the Sooloo, and saw the whole of it. He stated boldly the Diamond was in fault, and not the Sooloo.

We never saw our friend Charley more enraged and annoyed, than at this sudden and unexpected termination to his chance in the race.

The Diamond hauled down her racing flag to signify her intention of protesting against the Sooloo. The protest was instantly acknowledged aboard the Committee vessel by the report of their gun; and the Diamond again hoisted her flag and proceeded on her course.

"I suppose we may set the gaff-topsail, Captain," said the mate, "You are not going to give up because that fellow has entered a protest against us, are you? He had no business to cross our bows in that way, and if I was Mr. Scupper I would protest against him."

"I'm d

-d if I know what to do," said Captain Pivot, "unless I jump overboard and drown myself. I never felt so much like a lubberheaded fool in my life."

"Give me the helm," said Charley to the Captain, in his most petulant manner, "and tell them to up topsail; I'll sail the match for honour now, and not for gold."

"Hurrah!" shouted the crew: and with hearty good-will the disappointed sailors responded to their master's orders, and set the topsail in quick time.

The unfortunate occurrence had given all the yachts a clear start of the Sooloo. The thirty-tonner had obtained the lead, Diamond second, and Miscreant third. The Sooloo had no sooner felt the influence of her topsail than she glided past the Miscreant in beautiful style; and as she reached along in the wake of her next rival, one of the crew of that vessel was observed sitting astride at the outer end of the boom, diligently applying his needle in repairing the damaged mainsail. "Thank'ee Captain Pivot," said the man as we sailed past. "I'm much obliged to ye for giving me this little job: because we shall draw the cup through this here slit, presently."

"I wish you and your Diamond had been at h—instead of running across me at that moment," replied the enraged Captain Pivot. "You've got your green glasses on to-day, Captain Pivot, have you not?" said another.

In less than half an hour from the start, the Sooloo had passed all three yachts, and was inch by inch obtaining an increasing lead. The Diamond had come up rapidly with the thirty-tonner, and threatened to pass her, when we last turned our heads to look back on our rivals.

"We may as well show them what an easy task it is to beat them," said Charley. "What say you, Joe Strand?"

"Why, what I says, sir, is this-this is what I says," replied Joe. "I says that the Sooloo is an unlucky vessel: 'tis not the bowsprit but 'tis the whole craft. You may smile at my 'lossiphy, sir, but I says as how her keel was laid down under an unlucky planet; that's what I says, sir. Why look here, sir! Aint we a beatin' on em right

now,

clean off their legs; but no matter: I know enough of 'lossiphy to say that if she could go like a aoreal flying machine she'd have bad luck. Who'd a' thought of her poking a hole through the Diamond's canvas the first thing this morning? For my part I was prepared for almost any sort of a misfortune but that: Hows'ever, you never can be sure of 'em: what you think they're agoin' to do they don't do; and just what you don't think on, they're sure to do."

"Well, Joe," said the yachtsman, "it can't be helped. I suppose you hav'nt a receipt in your book on philosophy to remedy bad luck?" "Well, sir," replied Joe, "I'll look it over, now that you've put that idea into my head; but I don't think there is no," said he musing, "because you see, sir, if there had been, I should have copied it out; and I'll be bound to say I could have sold them, as many as I liked, at half-a-crown a-piece."

"I've no doubt you could," said the yachtsman. "But now then, stand by the sheets there, lads, and look out for the gybe. That's it” said he, as the sails swayed to the other side, and we rounded the Nore; at the same time taking out our watches to time the others.

"Thirteen minutes a-head of the Diamond, and seventeen of the thirty-tonner; that's not bad sailing, Mr. Scupper," said the Captain, who now spoke, almost for the first time since he had resigned the helm.

"No," replied the yachtsman, "it's not bad sailing by any means: we have at least shown them what we can do, barring accidents." "Ah! barring accidents, sir, truly," said the Captain. "This unfortunate affair this morning makes one almost inclined to believe there's something in Joe's notion of bad luck.

"I cannot attribute your careless blunder this morning to bad luck," said the yachtsman, with stern emphasis on the two last words.

The Captain was about entering into an explanation by way of defending himself, when Charley waved his hand to request he would say nothing about it.

On passing the umpire's boat at the winning goal, no gun was fired to acknowledge the arrival of the Sooloo: at which Charley felt a little hurt; for although he had no claim to the prize, he had sailed the match, and expected to have his time of arrival recorded. But on inquiry it was found they supposed the Sooloo had not gone the whole course after the protest was entered against her; particularly as she arrived so long before the others. Charley assured them he had sailed the match in strict accordance with the rules (except as regards fouling the Diamond), and requested his time of arrival to be entered: which request was immediately complied with, The Diamond arrived just twenty-three minutes later; and the Miscreant thirty-three: the thirty-tonner having, it was stated, got aground. The grounds of the protest were then investigated, and settled without dispute. Every one present acknowledged the extraordinary sailing-superiority of the Sooloo; and the chairman of the meeting said he deeply regretted the unfortunate occurrence at starting, but it was one of the rules of their club, and indeed of every yacht club in the kingdom, that if a yacht, through wilfulness, carelessness, or incaution, foul another engaged in the same match, the yacht so offending forfeits all claim to the prize. The accident it appeared was clearly attributable to the carelessness of the

captain of the Sooloo; and, but for that vexatious circumstance, it would have been his pleasure to have handed over the cup to Mr. Scupper; the extraordinary sailing qualities of his yacht having astonished many of the most distinguished yachtsmen present; and although the prize would be awarded to the Diamond, the honours of the day were due to the Sooloo.

Our friend Charley immediately rose to reply to the Chairman. He said he fully concurred in the decision the committee had come to, in awarding the prize to the Diamond; he well knew, the moment after the accident, that he had forfeited his claim, but wishing to make the match as amusing to the public as possible, he went over the course as if nothing had happened; and from the result, he had at least a hope to be more fortunate on some future occasion. He thanked the Chairman for the compliment paid him, and the impartial manner in which the meeting had been conducted.

A few hours later in the day, Charley was about stepping into a cab, when a man in a sailor's attire touched him gently on the shoulder, and begged to have a few words with him. Charley immediately stepped aside with the man, who then made the following communication to him:

"I have been waiting here, sir, for the last hour, to see you; for although you are a stranger to me, I don't like to see any one so completely cheated and deceived as you have been to-day."

"Cheated and deceived!" said Charley, starting back, and gazing fiercely at the sailor. "What do you mean? In what way?"

"I mean simply this, sir," said the sailor. "Your captain is a treacherous scoundrel: he fouled the Diamond yacht wilfully and intentionally."

My good man, you must be under a delusion," said Charley; "Captain Pivot would never act so infamously, I am sure. I cannot believe

you. Who are you? What proof have you ?"

"Who I am, and where I come from, I shall not say," replied the sailor. "But this I know, that some heavy bets were made in a certain inn, two nights ago; and Captain Pivot and the Captain of the Diamond were there until a late hour: they have been seen conversing together privately, both before and since the match: a great deal of whispering has been going on between them; and 'tis said they both win a good bit of money by the result of the match."

Charley listened attentively to the man's statement, nor lost a word of his startling tale; and in a few moments he began to suspect his captain was guilty, as he called to mind every circumstance connected with the match. He remembered his staying ashore later than usual on the night previous to the match; his uneasiness at the stillness of the morning; his wish to take the helm at starting; and many other little incidents which had passed almost unnoticed at the time, but which now rushed upon the yachtsman's memory, and stood like guilty facts before his eyes.

"Do you know if either of my men was ashore with the Captain?" he inquired.

"No," replied the man; "he alone was in company with the Diamond's captain; and I'd wager a crown that he is with him at this moment."