main 'burden of his song.' The consequence we all know; the Cantabs buried their boat every stroke, while the Oxford crew lifted theirs out of the water almost." Mr. Denman replied most effectively at the dinner to Mr. Skey's "medical advertisement letters" (as they have been well called) and let light into the wild legend of the boat crew which had died from over-exertion.

Dog-star weather and small fields, and middling weather and better fields, characterized the first and second day at Northampton. Mr. Savile and his Skirmishers, grey and brown, helped not a little to make the meeting by the struggles in the Cup and Queen's Plate. Their sire ran a grand race over this course, and so did John Davis, and that long, gradual ascent will try the stuff that horses are made of. There are two dozen foals to Voltigeur's credit in 1866-67, of which we know nothing as yet; but even if there is no avenger among them, some grandson may yet be found to answer Dr. Shorthouse's defi to any of his blood to win a Derby. We have quite a Yorkshireman's tender recollection of the lusty black-brown, with poor Job and Bobby Hill and the big Aske blacksmith as his esquires at Epsom and Doncaster, and it is most irritating to see him "sat upon" in his old age by the learned Doctor" or any other man." If ever one of his sons or grandsons does win one of the "great events," there will be a Yorkshire salvo, and, as they say in the House, the Doctor "will understand that cheer."

Beauty received 2 lbs. from Athena and gave her a "long head," beating, in exchange; Blinkhoolie, by his unflinching gameness with Blueskin in the dead-heat and run-off for the Queen's Plate, showed himself more of a horse than he has ever done yet; and if the useful Lord Hastings lacked pace when Mariner bore down upon him with a wet sail at last, the Townley stable had some solace in the running of one of their sale lot, Carlotta by King of Trumps. Vespasian, the winner in 1867, ran fifth in The Spencer Plate; while Mr. Pitt, the winner in '66, was only walked in the paddock, and then sent off home. Thormanby sadly wanted some turn, and here Ironmaster gave him a slight one at last. At its second year The Waterloo Gorse or "Goose" Stakes (as one paper printed it) sank to two starters, one of whom broke down.

The Newmarket Craven Meeting came off better than it once promised to do. It opened badly enough with the mistake as to Knight of the Garter's number, which was an expensive one to those who had laid against Lady Coventry, the connecting link in the Middle Park between the Kingsclerc pair and Lady Elizabeth. The Duke of Newcastle's trial horse Silenus did something on his own account; and then Admiral Rous showed that another winter had not rusted his matching power. He had five of them during the week, and he won four, and received in the other. Amara, Nutgirl, and Puff were his three instruments of torture to the intrepid but suffering young 'uns. One of them is of "the Pastrycook sort," which he never likes to leave on a Middle Park day; and the other two were purchases of Captain Machell's, at the Burghley sale. Both of them were by Knight of St. Patrick; and one cost 100 gs., and the other 120 gs. Moslem, a 570-guinea purchase of Mr. Crawfurd's on the same spot the year before, made the first hit of the meeting by bringing the Baron's Restitution to grief. The Parson, a half-brother to Wild

Dayrell, and Phoebus, a compound of Mr. Merry's Derby and St. Leger winners, Thormanby and Sunbeam, helped to pay Russley expenses during the week. The latter is an especially shifty and uncertain gentleman. In his race with Harold and Sir David Gam he was beaten a head for second place, and a neck for first. In the Column Stakes, he went away from Booty and another bad'un hard held; and in the Benington Stakes, where he was only on 2lbs. better terms with Herald, after trying hard to cut it, he won cleverly by a length. The Biennial showed what Sir David Gam and the Parson were worth; and Blue Gown's friends declare that they ought to have come through from the Bushes, as the Earl did. It may be so; but we never could reconcile with staying power the fact of Blue Gown ruuning so well over the Champagne course, and failing, with odds on him, two days later, when he was only asked for another furlong.

Montbar (a 60-guinea purchase of Mr. P. Price's) has added another to the winning-list of the eight Buccanneers which Mr. Cookson sold at Doncaster in '66; and, as it was, he handled the 3,000-guinea Cork Jacket pretty summarily. Blueskin showed another bit of true Blacklock gameness by his struggle home over a severe 12-miles course with Montagnard at only 9lbs. for his year, and finishing well-up at his shoulder. Badsworth was the third of the Carnival winners, a rare good allowance up to April 15th, and only 13 foals to begin with. It must have been a grand subject for an historical companion-picture to Ajax defying the Lightning-Lord Glasgow insisting on giving a stone for the year to Retty (when the match might have been made at evens), and retiring proudly to the stand from the Bird Cage, after dropping his century and Challoner's fee, with five lengths to the bad. His lordship's triumph was to come, when his Maid of Masham colt cutdown Friponnier over the Ditch In for the Claret. It was a grand surprise, but not greater than when he defeated Lord Clifden with Rapid Rhone, or ran clean away from Goodwood and Lecturer with a Toxophilite colt for the Doncaster Queen's Plate. To make the thing complete Aldcroft, who had worked down to the weight and ridden during the week, should have hoisted the white-and-red banner once more. Sister to Hermit shed her maidenhood, and brought a race to Middle Park, which has not prospered so far this season. A great deal was said, when Captain Machell gave 3,100 gs. for Vauban, how he and Hermit would worry Julius between them; but the Duke's horse did not find "the proppy one" at the scratch for the Port.

Durham had a meeting worthy of the county which has bred so many Derby winners, with our friend Isaac of Streatlam as their Dr. Locock. Mr. Eastwood had the pleasure of a telegram to say that both Retort and The Sawyer had won, and we have no doubt that Challoner had something of the kind at Newmarket, when Master Tom, which he bred out of respect to Carnival, showed six the way home in the Elemore Stakes. He was down from Newmarket, and riding at Catterick Bridge on the Thursday. In those fine "Richmond trial" meadows Géant des Batailles took a first at last, but both Master Tom and Retort were whippers-in under a 5lb. penalty in the Mowbray Stakes, which does not look well for their future.

The Duke of Grafton's hounds have only had a moderate season. Frank Beers was very keen for sport, but the foxes have been bad, and they hardly ever made a good point; still in three days a-week, they

bowled over fifty brace. In pleasant Preston Wood (of which one-half has been stubbed up) two vixens laid up their litters of three each in the long sag at the root of a tree, not a hundred yards from each other. The vixens were so impudent that they would positively come leaping into the yard of the neighbouring farmer (the breeder of "Rural Dean"), and try to carry off a hen at noon-tide before his very eyes. As it was, they got about forty at one time or other of the day, and the cubs were so fat when the hounds came, that half of them were chopped the very first morning. The Bicester, in consequence of George Beers's illness, were handled by their master, who is quite a novice, and they have not done much. Boxall will be their huntsman next season. The Bedale season-thanks to that rare good sportsman, and field-master Mr. John Booth, and Carr the new huntsman-was a decided success. On their last day they found a brace of foxes at Scatton Plantation, ran across to Hudswell Banks, opposite the paper-mill at Richmond, and then back across Throstle Gill, and after a good deal of ringing about between Hudswell and Richmond, at last killed on the dam of the paper-mill; time 2 hours 35 minutes. The run was over a fearfully rough country; the fencing very strong and plenty of it. We are glad to hear that Carr stays on. Will Maiden comes as first whip.

Up to the end of February, the season was good, but during March they had six blank days (about a fourth of what they had last season). The places which are so short of foxes are the Marquis of Aylesbury's estates of Jerveaux and Taufield, where no fox has been found for these three seasons. Lord De Grey's property at Hutton Moor is sadly lacking, and so is the Hornby Castle estate, which had another tale to tell in the days of Kit Skaife and Sim Templeman's rare old master. It is a very sad pity when owners, with such ample means, will, more from "want of thought" than "want of heart," create so much heartburning among neighbours. Gamekeepers know well enough what a master means when he says he will have foxes, and the latter has only to speak the word decisively. Mr. Musters' offer to hunt the Quorn country four days a week, if the covers, draining, and earth-stopping were found him, has been duly accepted. Sir Frederick Johnstone was quite prepared for two days in the top country, and he had even commenced building and had taken a lease for three years of the late Mr. Lyne Stephens's stables at Melton Mowbray. Frank Gillard, Mr. Musters' present huntsman, comes with the hounds. Lord Hastings's liberality in hunting the hounds, and his kind, friendly way in the field, were duly acknowledged, but there was, of course, a little reservation on the subject of punctuality, in which his lordship has certainly not excelled. Mr. Musters is grandson of the great Mr. Musters, of Annesley, and gets well along for a 16-stone man. He brings his own horses with him. The Quorn horses have had a hard season, and not time enough to get over it. Still those who know good stuff when they see it, will go for the grey Tipperary, a perfect Angelo in fencing; The Duffer, on which Pike went well; and Wanderer, Woodcote, Lighthead, Vulcan, Express, &c., all good young The Methodist was once a stable crack of Mr. Clowes's, and Blue Beard (alias Jack Story's favourite) is also a patent safety over Leicestershire. Among the heavy-weight horses are Peter, Melbourne, and Waterpark (a great water jumper), and Tom Wilson can speak up

ones.

for Champagne, as perhaps the best and fastest in the stable, with a fair weight on him. At Houghton Meeting the steeplechaser is also among them.

Frank Goodall and Frank Gillard judged the Quorn puppies last week, and Tom Day was not required as umpire. An excellent lot of eleven by Boabdil, from Rakish, came well to the front. Rally, a small, but very handsome one, was sent back from her first walk for chicken killing, and Mr. Clowes also returned her; but Mr. King, V.S. of Melbourne, took her finally, and got the bitch cup. Crony, by Drake's Hector, was second, and won the whip for Mr. Nicholson, of Isley Walton; and Songstress, by Nelson, won a pair of spurs for Mr. Clowes. Crasher, brother to Crony, took the dog cup, and "only wants his puppy coat off and a little fining done to make a beautiful dog." So thought Frank Goodall. Rasselas, one of the Rakish litter, was close at him, and many fancied that his guardian, old Barrondale, the Donington butcher, would have handed down the cup instead of the whip to his heirs for ever. Roman, his own brother, stood next.

The Pytchley have done pretty well since Christmas. They went to Brigstock as usual; but the ground was hard, the weather cold and windy, and foxes rather short. Mr. Thomson was only down three times; but Dick Roake had a satisfactory day from Drayton Park, and killed bis fox. The Prince's two days, March 13th and 14th, were luckily good, and on the Saturday it was dark when Mr. Thomson came off Shuck boro' Hill, and the hounds had 23 miles to travel. They had a good day's sport from Dodford on the 28th-found at Brockhall, hunted him to Badby Wood, changed foxes, and got, it was thought' on to the line of "the Prince's fox," which went to ground near Catesby, after a good cruise over the grass. On April 3rd they had a fair day from Cottesbrook over the grass. The entry is large and good, and the Master's horses, including Rainbow, go up to Tattersall's on May 4th. Mr. Thomson's head-quarters are now at Great Houghton Hall.

The Cumberland, which has now four masters (two baronets and two esquires), killed rather fewer foxes than usual last season; but they have had a good scent, and some very fine runs, with a brush after each. One was from Corby Wood to Croglin Fell (1 hours, without a check), and another from Peel Gill, beginning with a ring by Middlesceugh, and then right away over Sowerby Pasture and Greystoke Park to Berner Nettles-some laid it at 17 miles. There were also two very good runs from Brayton to beyond Westward, and one from Isell, beginuing with Redmayne and the Tarnitys, and then down wind to Binsey and Skiddaw. The hounds ran right away from the field, and a shepherd saw them pull their fox down. Several couples were out on the Fell all night. The new huntsman, Martin Care, has drafted largely from the old pack, and is to fill up from the Herefordshire. Lord Middleton and Sir Watkin, The Cumberland "Tods," will cut out the work both for him and them.

TEN DAYS' LEAVE IN THE JUNGLES.

With what feelings of inexpressible pleasure did we, after hammering away for weeks at that "bete noir" of most officers' existence, "setting up drill," hail the appearance of our names in orders for ten days' leave. There is a charm in that simple word " leave," which is almost unknown to our brethren in England, as it requires absence from one's native country to make it thoroughly appreciated. At home, "leave" unites us to our friends and relations, and enables us to indulge in amusements and gaiety of every description, while in India it relieves us from the monotony of cantonment life, and bids us roam free and unrestrained in the jungles and plains, often far removed from anything approaching civilization. We, therefore, who had been sweltering in cantonments during the hot season, passing as it were an artificial existence, under punkas, and behind khus-khus tatties, and thermantidotes, supported alone by that true friend of all exiles in India "Bass," supplemented by an occasional "peg" (brandy-and-soda), and had likewise dragged on a damp and dreary life during the monsoon, were in a position to value ten days' leave in all its bearings. The boon once granted, all the rest was plain sailing; and as our commissariat officer was a good fellow and a thorough sportsman, we soon obtained the loan of two elephants to carry our traps to the scene of our jungle exploits. They made their appearance on the afternoon before we started, and were soon loaded with a very heterogeneous collection of baggage. Not being very enthusiastic sportsmen, we were going out more with the idea of enjoying ourselves, and escaping from the sound of bugles, parades, and other concomitants of military life, than of distinguishing ourselves in the sporting line. Hence, we determined to make ourselves comfortable, and start with an unorthodox amount of baggage. A tent formed the substratum of the load on each animal; then chairs, easy and uneasy, tables, cooking utensils, and supplies of every description were heaped up, the apex being formed by our spare charpoys or cots, which being slung across, travelled very safely, and arrived in good time. How carefully we superintended the packing of our portable cellar, composed of a strong contingent of "Bass," supported by several bottles of Exshaw's brandy No 1, and their inseparable companion soda-water!

With almost maternal solicitude we wrapped them in their coverings of straw, regarding each as a contributor in some degree to our future sport and enjoyment. These valuable adjuncts to our existence in the jungles were not allowed to accompany the rest of the things, but were entrusted to the care of courie coolies, who carried them in baskets, suspended on either end of a strong bamboo, slung across their shoulders. In these preparations our sable domestics were not allowed to assist, as they have a playful way of breaking bottles, appropriating the precious fluid to themselves (utterly regardless of their supposed prejudices of caste), and then reporting the casualties to their masters with unmoved countenances, and not unfrequently condoling with them on the unforeseen accident.

All was complete at last, and the servants were with difficulty col