SPRING'S AND SPORTING IFE IN LONDO CHRONICLE. Vol. 2.- No. 6. LONDON, SUNDAY, JULY 17, 1842. Price Id. BADGER HUNTING. • BIJPPON gives the following extraordinary and interest- ing instance of affection in the harmless aDd inoffensive animal, the badger. Two persons were passing through a hollow way, when a dog that was with them started a badger, which he pursued and attacked until he took shelter under a tree. With some pains they drove him out and killed him. Being a few miles from a village called Chapellatierre, they agreed to drag him there, as the Commune gave a reward for every one which was de- stroyed. Not having a rope, they twisted some twigs, and drew him along the road by turns. They had not proceeded far, when they heard the cry of an animal in seeming distress, and stopping to see whence it proceeded, another badger approached them slowly. They at first threw stones at it, notwithstanding it drew near, came up to the dead animal, and began to lick it, and continued its mournful cry. The men, surprised at this, offered no further injury to it, and again drew the dead one along as before; when the living badger, determining not to quit his dead companion, laid down on it, and taking it gently by one ear, was drawn in this manner into the midst of the village: neither could dogs, boys, nor men, induce it to loose its hold by any means, until, to their shame be it said, they had the inhumanity to kill and afterwards to bum it, declaring " it could be no other than a witch." Some time since I was staying near Haverfordwest, in Pembrokeshire, with a friend who now, alas 1 is moulder- ing on India's blood- stained plain. Learning from him that his gorse coverts were infested with badgers, I pro- posed to have a hunt with the vermin by the light of the moon. Meeting with a ready acquiescence— for a truer sportsman never lived, and a braver heart never yielded blood for his country's honour— we selected a bright night in October, after a good day's pheasant- shooting, to try our skill in bagging a badger. It was one of the last ex- cursions I had with him, and therefore, perchance, more indelibly impressed upon my memory. The gorse that we were going to draw was situated but a very short distance from Milford Haven, and, as we took our way towards it, the slight dash of the wave smote the ear as it rolled on the beach, and the water, lit by the moon, looked as if bars of burnished silver were spread upon its surface. The shrill, melancholy note of the cur- lew sounded now and then o « er our heads, and the screech of the owl startled us in our path as he flapped his wings along the ground. Occasionally the phosphoric lamp of a glowworm sparkled in his mo98y bed, and the wing of the beetle buzzed in the air. Cradled in the closed flower, the butteifly was rocked in the breeze, and the flitting moth supplied its place. Creatures that lote the silent night were awake and happy; those that revel in the gay sunshine were still and wrapped in slumber. Close to our heels two brace of terriers ran, while a tall Welchruan ( the keeper) followed with sacks, prepared with running nooses. He also shouldered a couple of fox- spades and a pickaxe, to work mines and countermines, and, if necessary, to break casements, parapets, and plat- forms in the siege of the badger's stronghold. Remaining on the verge of the covert with the dogs, we directed the keeper to be careful in stopping all the earths he knew of, except three, and in them to place the sacks, and pin the necks securely by the nooses to a peg. When these pre- liminaries had been effected, we threw the little pack into the covert, and commenced beating for our prey. " We ought to have beat round the hedgerows for some distance first," observed the keeper. " All the badgers that are abroad should have been driven home, while some- body watched the bags," continued he. " I'm most desirous to catch all," replied his master, " and I dare say we shall manage one or two without so much trouble.' " There's fox, badger, hare, or rabbit," said I, as the terriers commenced yelping right merrily. " It matters not to them which,'' returned my friend laughing: " they're ready for a grizzly bear down to a mouse hunt.'* Across the rides the frightened denizens of the covert rushed. Hares and rabbits could be seen fleeing away, while their pursuing enemies followed closely in their wake, making their cry heard far away from the scene of their unlawful disturbance. " Yon must stand on a clear wind,'' said the keeper, as I undertook the charge of one of the sacks, " or he won't point for this earth." I thanked him for the information, which, by the way, I flatter myself was little needed, and then screwed my patience to wait the issue of events. " Through the wood, follow and find me," was the order, and to the trial the nim- ble terriers went with a will. Through briar and brake they crashed with jest of purpose, and cry answered cry as each made his tongue ring cheerily with the fun. My compa- nion was watching a sack some little distance from me, when, amid the din of the hot pursuit, a hearty " tally- ho" burst from his lips, and he followed the view halloo by the exclamation of, " By St. Paul I saw a fox I" Scarcely had these words escaped his lips, when reynard streaked across the ride that 1 was standing on the edge of, and again he was saluted with a cheer which hurried him on his course. The dogs were now some distance from us at the lower part of the covert with the keeper, who was beating the furze, and hallooing with lungs capable of disturbing a drowsy toad deeply buried in the bowels of the earth. " Have at ' em, Worsp,'' he cried, as he thrashed the gorse : " loo, Pepper and Tartar; press ' em out, good dogs 1" At length the pack made in a direct course towards me, splitting through the sharp and thick thorns at a great pace, perfectly reckless of the damage to their eyes and skins. When we entered the covert, I winded the badgers in certain spots, and therefore, if not at a greater distance than the precincts of their haunts, and if the burrows had been well stopped, I felt pretty certain that we should have some sport. As the dogs neared me I kept my eyes bent on the sacked earth as a fisherman would on his float momentarily expecting a bite. Nearer and nearer they came, and when within a few yards of me. I saw one of our objects of pursuit a short distance from a leading terrier. So near was the dog to his victim, that before he could send his sharp nose into the sacking trap, a pair of willing jaws were snapped into his extreme rear, and over he was pulled upon his back, ere I had time to recover from my surprise at the unexpected movement. " Who- whoop 1" I cried ; but the cheer of victory pro » ed somewhat premature. Willi a bound my friend came to the spot where the tug of war commenced, and the keeper, nearing the halloo which was anticipated as the signal of capture, crashed through the gorse like a buffalo through the prairie grass, and quickly joined us. With his skin pufl'ed out like a bladder blown, the badger, which was one of the largest I ever saw, remained upon his back, and with his long sharp claws and pene- No. 110. THE ASCOT CUP, 1843. The subject which Mr. Cotterill has this year chosen to form the group denominated " The Ascot Cup," is in its design as complimentary to the royal patrons of these pleasant races as in execution it is perfect. Mr. Cotterill deservedly stands at the head of the class of artists who model for silver- smiths, and his productions, annually exhibited at Messrs. Garrard's, in the Haymarket, have earned for that house a celebrity which no other can equal. We yesterday paid our accustomed visit to inspect the prize, prior to its removal to Windsor and the course, and were, as usual, highly gratified. Mr. Cotterill has selected a tine theme lor the exercise of his art— an incident in the Battle of Crecy, when the banner of the gallant King of Bohemia was laid by the Earl of Warwick at the feet ot the victorious Black Prince, as a trophv of that glorious field— a trophy which to this day forms the crest of the heir apparent to the British crown. I he group is thus constituted :— The Black Prince, in full armour, with his vizor raised, and in an attitude of lofty repose after the tumult of the fight, is seated upon a noble destrier, the energy of whose action contrasts finely with the calm bearing of his rider ; the Earl of Warwick is on foot, but, like the prince, armed cap- a- pied, and bending forward, lowers in the dust the banner of " blind Bohemia," bearing on it three plumes of ostrich feathers, with the motto " Ich dein ; a page, kneeling and unbonneted, on the opposite side, completes the group. Mr. Cotterill has been successful in every point of view, but his greatest torce has been thrown into the magnificent horse, which supplies the motive of the work. His form is perfect, uniting vigour with elegance, and suggesting at once the idea of strength with speed. The figure of Edward is also extremely noble, and grace and beauty are strikingly shown in the attitude of the kneeling page. The minor details arc exquisitely finished, and the contrast between the golden ornaments and weapons— the baldric, the shield, the sword, the dagger of mercy, the trappings of the steed, & e„ the burnished silver, which imitates the plate armour, and the frosted silver forming the camail, & c„ pro- duce a remarkably fine effect. It requires no knowledge of costume, nor interest in the story to admire such a group, and the rough Yorkshireman, whom we saw looking at it, and pronouncing the horse " a very pratty one," said as much in its favour as the virtuoso by his side, who delivered a more elaborate opinion, the former would, it is true, " as lief see t'money;" hut if he wins the prize, he has, at any rate, the satisfaction of knowing that he has got his money's worth, for fortunately there is no lack of taste to patronise works of art of the high order of those ofMr. Cotterill. Mr. Orde must congratulate himself on having secured such a trophy, the proudest, amongst the many, won by his extraordinary and gallant " Beeswing." trating teeth mangled his surrounding enemies with a gal- ! lant determination to part with his life or his liberty with the struggle of a hero. " Mart de ma vie.' but so shall it be to those who seek it," was the fiat, and every twig within a wide circle witnessed the English spirit to stir the 1 attempt. Courage in anything, be it in a rat or even a tadpole, is ; a quality to be admired. The most fearful love the brave, and the brave who are victorious never exult over the van- quished. The page of England's history, past and present, slows with generous deeds of individual courage, and per- I haps not one excels the manly offer of the tar who gave his enemy a cutlass to defend himself. I can imagine the surprise of more than one reader at the flying off at this tangent. A badger- hunt and the his torical circumstance alluded to appear to be as opposite as the little- known localities called " the Poles." But per- haps the germs of astonishment may be nipped ere the roots have sprouted deeply in the cerebrum, by my stating that my companion, enjoying the desperate resistance made by the earth- digger, gave the order " to show mercy and to spare." " Get the dogs off, David," said he: " he's as game as a fighting- cock, and too good to be killed by numbers." " Lor, sir 1" expostulated David, " ye'll not go for to make ' em do for twice, will ye ?" " Get the dogs off!" reiterated his master in the tone peremptory. With much danger to David's digits he seized one of the pugnacious terriers and drew hitn off. Then another was dragged from his victim, and both dropped iuto a sack. " Take Pepper away," said my friend, as the keeper evinced some hesitation to reduce the numbers further. " The varmint's got his right fore- foot crushed between his jaws," replied David, trying to drag the terrier off, but who stuck to the badger's neck like a leech, careless of the pain endured. " Then try Rose,' 1 returned my friend. The bitch was caught from her hold on the throat of the badger, and then Pepper, unassisted, was left in his glory alone. i " Now," said my companion, " they shall fight it out, But to have such a fellow mobbed to death would be a cruelty." David rubbed his . hands with glee when he found the fray was to continue, and loudly cheered the dog with, " Hold him, Pepper! Shake him! Have at ' em, good dog ! That's it." Over and over the animals rolled in the bloody fight, the dog apparently having by far the worst of it. He was a pure white Scotch terrier, and from countless deep gashes in his wiry skin the crimson gore was trickling, until his head and body became smothered with it. But we cannot invariably judge from appearances. Pepper looked as if he must be conquered, aud momentarily 1 ex- pected a surrender. He, however, had fixed his teeth on the windpipe of his enemy, and had closed them like a tightly- screwed vice, and this politic clutch doubtlessly awarded him the palm of victory, for after some twenty minutes severe up- and- down fighting, the struggles of the badger became fainter and fainter, and at length he re- mained still, with Pepper pinning him to the ground. " By Jove! I think he has killed him," said my friend. The thought proved correct. David laid hold of the badger, and from his powerless mouth the mangled paw of the brave Pepper fell.— Sporting Magazine. NIMROD'S OPINION OP STEEPLE. CHASE RACINQ.— " A new system of racing joekeysbip has come into fa, shion into Great Britain and Ireland within the last twenty years, which, however in character with the daring spirit of our present race of sportsmen, wo cannot commend. We think it is an unreasonable demand on the noble energies of the horse, to require him to go so very nearly at a racing pace ( for such we find to be the case) over rough and solt ground, instead of upon smooth and elastic turf. Human lives have already been the victims of this practice, and we are sorry to ssy, several horses have died from over- exerting themselves, as well as by accidents, in steeple- races. We have reason to believe, however, that they will not become a lasting amusement of British sportsmen,'' The following novel and unique title of this paper is dedicated ( sans permissionne) to THOMAS SPRING ( alias WINTER), Esq. It reads upwards of 5,000 different ways, commencing from the letter T in the centre. nodnoLn ie f i L i feinLondon odnoLni efiLsLifeinLondo dnoLniefiLs'sLifeinLond efiLs ' g ' sLi fei nLon f iLs'gng* sLi feinLo iLs'gning'sLi feinL Ls'gni ring' sLi fe in s' gnirpring'sLifei ' gnirpSpring'sLife g ni rpSmSpri ng' sLi f iLs ' gni rpSmomSpr ing' sLi Ls'gni rpSmoTomSpring ' sL iLs ' gni rpSmomSpr ing' sLi fiLs ' gni rpSmSpri ng' sLi f efiLs'g ni rpSpring' sLi fe iefiLs'gnirpring'sLifei niefiLs' gni ring'sLifein Lni efiLs ' gning' sLi feinL oLni e fiLs' gng' sLifeinLo noLni e fiLs ' g ' sLi feinLon dnoLnie fiLs' sLifeinLond odnoLni efiLsLifeinLondo nodnoLniefiLi feinLondon noLni 0 L n i e Ln i e f n i e f i 1 e f i L e f i L fiLs ATTILA, WINNER OF THE DEBBY STAKES AT EPSOJI 1842.— Attila, a small sized, but a strongly- formed horse, of a rich bay colour, was got by Colwiek, out of Progress, by Lsngar, dam by Blacklock— grandam by Knowsley, out of Surveyor's dam. Attila is a peculiarly neat and well- shaped horse, and goes with such high action, th » t it looks as if it would stop, rather than help him. He is engaged in the Drawing Room Stakes at Goodwood, and in the St. Leger, Gaseoigne, and Scarborough Stskea at Doncaster; but the general belief ia that he will not run at Goudwoud, being kept altogether for his Doncaster engagements. THE LATE DERBY. BY UNCLE TOBY. WHEN a favourite'wins such a race as the' Berby there is sure to be a havoc made amongst the " rotten sheep" of the betting ring. Coronation last year proved himself a tolerably good needer, but Attila sifted the dross from the gold to a far greater extent. That there are still a host of speculators, mere men of straw, hovering about Tattersall's, no one at all acquainted with the mystery of betting can deny, and until theringia thoroughly purged of this " ragged lot" no great confidence in turf speculations can be secured. Much praise is due to Lord George Bentinck for his inde- fatigable industry in all things appertaining to turf mat- ters, and it is to be regretted that no other influential nobleman, such, for instance, as the Marquis of Exeter, is to be found to follow the glorious example of my Lord George Bentinck. The reckless state of several of the Derby bocks, clearly proves that a radical reform is abso- lutely necessary. Can anything be nearer to premedi- tated robbery, than for a man to lay against a certain favourite to any amount, knowing, at the same time, that if the animal wins, he cannot meet his loss ? That many do this yearly, there is not the shadow of a doubt. Sup- pose, for instance, that a party had commenced betting against Attila after his Newmarket race at ten to one, an kept up the game during the winter; why he, if known all in the ring, might with great ease have got against horse, to at least 20,0002. I have every reason to kn that the leviathan defaulter from Cambridge took mode of speculating. It will be clearly seen tha " potting" a horse ( as the term goes), the whole of the remain winners; and taking the avera*^ odds b against Attila during the winter and spring it, wi found that six to one is not far from the mark: we find that the speculator stood to win on any o horse in the race at least 3,0002. I am not prepare say whether he took any trouble about any of the ot horses, but to pay the 20,0002. he is stated to have w l, 500i. 1 Another gent., with a 10,0002. book, got bit t the tune of 13,0002.; andfruror five others " threw out' to the extent of about 20,0002.— indeed, altogether, the money keptoutof the market amounted to at least 60,0001. This is really an awful state of things. One gentleman of my acquaintance took a thousand to a hundred about Attila of one of the Levanters, and when the horse reached five to one he laid off the stake, t. e., he betted five hundred to one hundred against the horse. At the settling, he was a winner of 5001., but having to pay, and not receive, he was minus 5002. I know of many similar cases: one, of a gentleman, who is fond of dabbling a little in turf affairs, and who is content with a very moderate profit. This gentleman took the odds to a pony about Attila's winning the Clearwell and the Derby. After Attila had got '• well through" the Clearwell he became, as every raciDg man knows, the leading favourite for the great race, and the taker of the odds hedged his money at eight to one ; what was the coniequence? why, he had to pay the 2002. with- out getting one shilling of the long bet, viz. 7502. It was truly surprising to witness the reckless manner in which the " standers- out" against Attila bore up to the last moment; they actually drove the horse from three to one to six to one, and they would have laid ten to one; it signified nought to them, they stood " the hazard of the die," and were sorely discomfited. One gentleman, nominally a great winner, left the yard some thousands out of pocket, indeed a more deplorable settling (?) was never known. la Mundig's year a gentleman of high standing stood the shot to about 30,0002. against the winner; this we took for granted would be a warning to the " potters," but we were wrong. The backers of Cana- dian was thunderstruck when the declaration of his not starting met their ears ; the fact is, the horse had a leg last autumn, and although he managed to get through his races at the Newmarket spring meeting, yet it was evident from his appearance that Stephenson w « s afraid to give him strong work. The animals beaten by him were but of a secondary character, yet, if he had remained " all right," I should not have been surprised to have seen him run well up at the finish. Alas! the last preparative bowled out his chance— he fell lame. The backers of Auckland had a race for their money. The " sayings and doings" about this fine son of Touchstone, and the annoyance given to the Marquis of Westminster, by some under- handed rascals, will be long remembered by sporting gen- tlemen. 1 f Aueklao d had caught the judge's eye first there would indeed have been heavy sessions. That Chatham would have been there or thereabouts, if he had not broken dowD, is the opinion of one of the best judges of racing— here » gain the settling would have been " awful," for several stood most mightily against him, and refused to hedge at any terms. And now a word or two respecting Coldrenick, " the flyer," the" best Derby that John Day had ever tried," the " certainty," & e. & c. & c. I have always held John Day to bo more correct iu his trials than any of his contemporaries, for I well re- member Venison, Grey Momus, Crucifix, cummullisaliis, yet with Coldenrick, " Oh, what a falling off was there I" The horse positively could not live either the pace or tho distance, and was completely beaten off. Some went so far as to say that " honeBt John" knew the colt not to ba the flyer represented ; yet the public were positively mad to back him to the last, taking as little as six to four in a field of twenty- four horses 1 That there was an immense deaf of money made by the professionals about this horso there is no doubt, but as to John Day and his party being^ losers to the amount named, I have my serious mis- givings. The blood of that fine animal. Sir Hercules, was once more in the ascendant, his son Robert de Gorham, astonishing his few admirers by running a capital second ; at least as far as the beaten ones were concerned. Robert got a bad start, otherwise he would have been nearer Attila at the finish. I quite expect to see him win the Gratwick stakes at Go- dwood for his noble owner. Jack, and the Lord of Holdernesp, amply repaid those who were fortunate enough to have been iu the secret; and Meteor sent a little siller to the north. No piudent man will ever stand a pot against the Scotts, they hate such ad- advantages over other trainers. Tho principal winners were Lords Chesterfield and Maidstone, Col. Anson. M< ssrs. Greatrex, Robinson, Hill, and Clatk.— Neui Sporting Magazine. " Loaded with slugs," as the gardener said to the wall- flower. " Let me collect myself," as the man said when be was blowu up by the powder- mill. ss TOM SPHINX'S L1FB II LtlllOM. July n. THE LION OF CHEAP LITERATURE & A. RT. NOW READY, PART I. OF THE SQUIB, WITH ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN POLITICAL, SATIRICAL, AND HUMOROUS ILLUSTRATIONS, HENNINC, NEWMAN, AND ALKEN. PRICE SIXPENCE, STITCHED IN A HANDSOME WRAPPER. 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Orders received by all Booksellers in town and country. *** Our Correspondents are, earnestly requested to forward their communications to the Office of this Paper, 3, Crane- Court, Fleet- Sh eet, and not to the Publisher's, or we cannot be responsible for attention to them. / v TOM SPRING'S LIFE IN LONDON. LONDON, JULY 17, 1842. THE WAY TO CATCH FISH, OR, THE WAL- TONIAN'S VADE MECUM. Containing all that is worlli knowing in the Angling way. WRITTEN AND COMPILED 1' OR THE USE OF TY110S IN ANGLING, BY THE EDITOR. o> — THE subject of vision in fishes, as already ob- served, is of high importance to the angler, as ac- cessary to his success in taking them. " It has been said," observes White, in his Natural History of Selbourne, " that the eyes of fishes are immoveable ; but these apparently turn them forward or backward in their sockets, as their occasion require. They take little notice of a lighted candle, though placed close to their heads, but flounce and seem much frighteued by the sudden stroke of a hand against the support whereon the bowl is hung, especially when they have been motionless, or perhaps asleep ; as fishes have no eyelids, it is not easy to discern whe- ther they are sleeping or not, because the eyes are always open.'' The large size of the eye, as ob- servable in the gold fish kept in glasses, is not there- fore a sign of clearness or strength of sight, nor is the codfish, whose eyes are almost as large as that of a man, blest with much better vision than the rest of his race, as is shown by the mistakes they, as well as the rest of the finny tribes make in seizing objects somewhat resembling their natural food. The angler must therefore be careful, as this indistinctness of sight leads fish to take alarm at every shadow that crosses the water, and they fly from a man walk; ng between them and the sun, or fron? a gracing sheep. which throws its shadow as suddenly and as fear- fully as though it were the prowling otter or any other dangerous object. " There is no evidence," says the Rev. Mr. Daniell, in his Rural Sports, " of any fishes seeing at a considerable distance, and the conduct of most of them that are deceived by differ- ent baits, in imitation of their food, gives room to suspect that objects are not very distinctly perceived even when near." Mr. Daniell might well have gone further, for I have continually seen things bearing scarcely any resemblance to their food, seized when presented under the proper circum- stances, and hence the absurdity is manifest of the directions with which the routine angling books are crammed. They proceed upon the assumption that the purblind fish are so well able to discriminate the colours and forms of particular flies, as to refuse all other sorts, not only at particular seasons and days, but even at particular periods of the same day. The notion is absurd j doubtless the facts on which they found their fancy aie certain ; it is the inferences they draw we quarrel with, as their ridiculous opinion leads to stuffing the angler's book with a thousand useless things: very profitable no doubt to the shop- keeper, but not worth a farthing so far as filling his creel is concerned. Light seems strongly to attract fishes, for in taking down a lamp in a diving bell, the diver is immedi- ately surrounded by numbers of fishes. Sir Walter Scott, too, has beautifully described, in Guy Manner- ing, the Scotch practice of " black fishing." The fishers carry by night a grate of burning coal, and wade along the smaller shallows where the salmon come up to spawn. When the water is clear, few fish escape the search, and when found they seem so fascinated with the glare of light, that they remain immoveable, and are speared without difficulty. The Chinese too have a system analogous to this. Two boats are fastened together, and on the outer side of each a broad board, painted white and var- nished is fastened, sloping very gradually into the watej'. Choosing a moonlight night for their excur- sion, they take such a direction as to make the moon's beams fall angularly on the board ; towards this the fish dart, shoal themselves on the board, and are dexterously caught out with a sort of double- pointed gaff, with a short handle. From what we have here advanced, it may be taken for proved that fishes, though they may catch colours, and be attracted by them and light, are by no means the sharpsighted animals routine fishers are apt to believe. Form therefore and material are of secondary importance in making killing baits, provided colour and contrast are attended to. With regard, therefore, to flies ( for which we shall hereafter give a few plain practical directions), the most showy colours, and such as contrast best with the colour of the water fished on, are to be preferred. Thus light colours of a morning and evening, and dark colours in bright water and clear weather are advisable. Gold and silver thread, and the metallic lustre of peacocks' feathers come into use accordingly in dressing flies, though there be no- thing in the least resembling them on the water fished or elsewhere. The colour of the line to which your hook is whipped, for the above reason, should resemble as nearly as tnay be the water fished in. If it is pretty nearly of a colour with it, it is doubtful if the fish do not overlook it altogether, from the defect above spoken of. Thus, though white gut or horsehair is most commonly used, it is often stained pale blue, greenish, or brown, to suit the water angled in. The three recipes here given for staining lines, arc from an old work, and I do not know better ones, though for myself I have usually resorted to a simpler pro- cess, both with gut and hair, namely, to soak them for four and twenty hours in strong tea, some with, and others without the addition of logwood scrapings to the infusion. For a yellotv dye, take the inner bark of a crab tree, boiled with alum. This is an excellent yellow for fishing among decayed water- weeds, the tint of which it very closely imitates. For a brown, boil some powdered alum in water, until it is entirely dissolved, then add a pound of the green bark, or the unripe fruit of the walnut tree, let it stand until nearly cold, and skim off the oil. Put in the hair or gut, and stir it round about a mi- nute, till you approve the tint it has taken. This should not be too deep, as it is apt to rot when very dark. ./? llue watery tint may be given by alum boiled as before directed, with the addition of logwood, in- stead of the walnuts. A green watery tint is obtaiued as follows :— Take half a pound of soot, and add it to a pint of strong ale, then throw in a few walnut leaves and some alum, boil them half an hour, and when cold steep the hair or gut in it for twelve hours. Old Gervase Markham, in his " Country Content- ments," says that the " angler should by no means be garish nor gaudy in his attire," for " whatsoever with a glittering hue reflecteth on the water imme- diately it frighteth the fish, and maketh them to flie his presence; no hunger being able to tempt them when their eye is offended, and of all creatures," adds he, " none are more sAarp- sigAted than fishes are." (!) The quaint old writer is correct in his direction, but wrong in his conclusion, as we have already shown. " Let then," adds he, " your apparel be plain and comely, of a dark or sad colour, as russet, tawney, or the like, close to your body, Without any of the new- fashioned slashes, and hanging sleeves, waiving loose like sayles in the air, for they are blinkes which will scare your game from you." We now come to the faculty of hearing, as dis- played in fish. It would consume more space than I can spare to notice all the opinions and hypotheses of learned naturalists, with respect to this sense of hearing. I shall, accordingly, merely note two or three of the most unequivocal and satisfactory expe- riments, collected by Professor llennie and Mr. Yar- rell; and first, I shall record the opinion of the great anatomist John Hunter. This great physiologist observes that the ear of a fish consists of a gristly substance, very hard in some parts, and in many fish incrusted over with a thin plate of bone, as if to prevent it from collapsing. He also says that the ear of fishes possesses the peculiarity of increasing in size with the size of the individual, whereas, in man and the quadruped, the ear is nearly as large in the young as in the full- grown animal. " When in Portugal," says Mr. Hunter, " I observed in a no- bleman's garden, near Lisbon, a small fish- pond, full of several sorts of fish. Its bottom was level with the ground, and was made by forming a bank all round, with a shrubbery close to it; whilst lying on the bank to observe the fish, I desired a gentleman, who was my companion, to go behind the shrub3 ( that there might be no reflection of light from the flash), and fire his gun. The moment the report was made, the fish seemed universally agitated, for they vanished immediately, raising, as it were, a cloud of mud i'roro the bottom. In about five mi- nutes afterwards, they began to appear, and again swam about as before." This instance has been met by some learned dis- putators as proving only that a concussion in the water may act on the nerves of fish, but not as proving the faculty we call " hearing ;" the follow- ing, therefore, may be enough to show the practical angler that if fishes do not " hear," they have some sense so very much like it, that it would puzzle a phi- losopher to find in what the difference consists. " At Rotterdam, in a garden belonging to a very curious gentleman, M. Eden," says Mr. Bradley, " I had the pleasure of seeing some carps fed, which he kept in a moat of very considerable extent; the occasion of my seeing these creatures was to satisfy me of some doubts I had heard expressed, whether fish were capable of hearing ; the gentleman having filled his pocket with spinach seed, conducted me to the side of the moat, where we stood mute for some time, to convince me the fish did not come until he called them. At length, being desirous to see the event, he called in his usual way, and imme- diately the fish gathered together in such numbers, that there was hardly room for them to lie one by another, and then he flung some spinach seed among them which they devoured very greedily. This alone would have satisfied me that fish had a good sense of hearing ; but upon relating the story, I was told that at Sir William Bowyer's, near Uxbridge, there is a pond of pikes, or jacks, which they call together at pleasure, and I think this more surprising than what I have here related of the carp ; for the pike is a less tameable fish, and as it i3 a fish of prey, it is much more difficult to civilize it, or render it obe- dient to man. Barker, in his old book, called " Delight," also tells us, that Edward Lord Montagu, desiring him one evening to catch him a dish of trout against six the next morning, he proceeded to the water, and on dropping a hook baited with two lobworms on the surface, as is done in fly- fishing, the gentle plunge attracted the fishes to the spot, and as the night was darkish, he had good sport. This proves beyond doubt that in the dark at least fish are drawn to their food by healing; and as they came to Barker's lob- worms, so might they be drawn to a minnow, or any other fish or insect, through or on the water, whose motion they may hear. The chad appears to hold an eminent place among fish, in having a musical ear. In Germany, chad fishing is pursued with nets to which bows of wood, hung with little bells, are fastened, so as to jingle in harmony when the nets are moved. < Aelian informs us that the chad is allured by the sound of the Casta- net. There are further several places on the Conti- nent, where the gold fishes in pieces of ornamented water are called to their feed by the sound of a bellj but I have said enough, I hope, to satisfy the most incredulous on this point, and shall merely observe in conclusion, that a moderp German anatomist, M. Weber, has discovered a communication between the ear of fishes and their swim- bladder, the air in which is very probably effected by the vibrations of sound. The ear in fishes, it is observable, does not open into the mouth or throat, as in most animals, and hence several naturalists have doubted the faculty being possessed by them. I shall now quit the topic of the senses of fish, hoping the reader will bear in mind the facts here noted, as I shall frequently have occasion to revert to them in the course of my observations. I shall next proceed to the " hours of feeding, and the haunts of fish," and thence to a concise description of natural and artificial baits. ( To be continued.) ALIC REID'S BENEFIT, THIS event came off on the sixth of this month, and we are happy to say was attended with the proper result. At an early hour in the evening, the large room at Owen Swift's, Titchhorne- street, Haymarke, t, was crowded with the elite of Corinthians, amateurs, and frionds of the bentficiare. Tha sparring was first- rato, and numerous displays of the noble art of a slashing character, took place between the Essex youth and Joe Roe the Spital- fiolds champion, Bergari the St. Luke's bully and young Sambo Sutton, Black Diamond and the Brandford Pet, Jemmy from Town and the Slasher, the Croydon Butcher and the St. Giles's Pet, the Slashing Painter and the boy Jack Munro, who challenges any man of 13 J stoae for 251, who has not fought in the P. R. Several others of the right sort also showed, who gave evideDt satisfaction. The call, however, was for Swift and Young Reid, but the former hiving attended the fight between Walker and Adams, on the previous day, was too tired to exhibit, aud a lad who calls himself the Dublin Pet, made his bow with Young Reid to set- to for a bellyfull. A gallant dis- play now took place between the heroes, Dublin looking rather formidable, with his right lag and arm in advance, after the manner of Ned Turner, Deaf D- ivias, and Bishop Sharpe. After some sharp exchanges, they both closed, Dublin under. Soveial other bouts of a stunning character followed, which appeared to be in favour of Young Reid, when the Pet gave in, evidently blown. Old and Young Reid next set- to for the wind- up. The display of the former reminded us forcibly of his best days, and his fights with Petkins, Sharpe. Tom Gay- nor, and Gipsy Cooper. At the close, the most gratify- ing demonstrations of satisfaction were exhibited by all present, and Alec returned thanks in an appropriate speech, hoping that the day is not far distant when he shall have the honour of contributing to the comforts of his patrons and numerous friends, in the character of Boniface, at some respectable snuggery. THE WAY TO WILMINGTON. NOT long since ( says an American paper) a steamboat traveller was on his way from Charleston to Wilmington, and the boat rounded to at Smithville, N. C. It was late at night, and of Day and Martin darkness— the black chaos around was a kind of polished Erfebus— and nothing was distinguishable save a boy waving a torch at some dis- tance from the boat. Now, as the boys do not stand on waves when they want to wave torches, there were many on board the boat shrewd enough to know that there must be land somewhere in the vicinity. On the strength of this conviction, one of the passengers, anxious and cautious as to the'progress of his journey, called out the boy with the torch— " Hallo !" " Hey!" replied the boy with juvenile shrillness. " What place is this ?" " North Carolina," sung out the boy. This answer provoked great merriment, naturally enough, among the passengers, and a dozen other voices commenced putting loud questions to1 the boy. " What's your name?" roared one who had lung- strength enough to drown all the rest. " Sam Stow .'' shouted the boy. " Where do yon live ?" bellowed tho humorous ques- tioner still louder. " North Carolina," was once more tho answer, followed by a tremendous peal of laughter from tho boat, and a sympathetic din and splash of the paddles. When a par- tial silence ensued, tho stentorian cross- examiner was heard again. " What part of North Carolina?" " Why, up there, where Miss Effy Butts used to live!" This reply caused more boisterous fun than took place before, and it seemed as if the laughter would never cease. At leuglh another question was put, justas the boat was Hearing the spot where the boy stood. " Which is the way to Wilmington 3 ' The boy paused an instant, and then threw everybody into convulsions by answering— " Why, the other way." Such an informant is not always met with ( in a ditik night in North Carolina. EPSOM DOWNS. 1. PRELIMINARY PREPARATIONS. IN the vicinity of Addle- » treet, and near unto Little Britain, dwelt a happy pair, who kept a small concern in the hosiery and haberdashery line— a slatternly little girl, called a maid- of- all- woik— and a shopman, familiarly called Jim Slatter, about two. and- twenty, who was a great adept at insinuation, as the goods he ticketed proved; for when the passers- by were drawn in by the display of a silk handkerchief, which he innocently thought was only marked two shillings, he found, upon a close inspection, that there was ten pence- halfpenny down in pais pencil figures, as plain as the nose upon his face. Then, again, all his sixteenpences proved ona- and- sixpences; and his articles of " silk " were preceded by the drawback " equal to >' down in little. In fact, he was a perfect master of his business, having been an observing errand- boy in a first- rate establishment, when he was transplanted to Diggs's, and first combed up his lank hair to the sem- blance of a Brutus. He possessed a great Bow of that peculiar kind of elo- qnance called " small talk," and was a particular favourite with all the old women and servants who came for a ball of cotton, a skein of thread, a paper of" Whitechapel pints," or a " paper o' pins.'' As for measuring tapes or ribbons, he was " beyond measure" excellent. What be- tween the brass nails on the counter and his adroit thumb- Rails, he generally made eleven yards measure twelve. The only wonder is, how Jim Slatter could sleep under that counter over which he daily exhibited his tricks; but his early education had seared his conscience, and ho certainly dirl lie there without any feeling of compunction. Mr. and Mrs. Diggs's estimation of Jim Slatter was only excelled by his own. In the course of business he became acquainted with Tom Sharpwit, the town. travel- ler of a wholesale house— a man who, according to his oft- asserted dictum, was up to a thing or two, ] and down to everything. He first planted the seeds of ambition in the humble broast of the quiet Jim Slatter, and it was really amazing how they flourished. The consequence of several whisperings across the counter was the resolution to endeavour to obtain a holiday of his governor, and ac- company Sharpwit to Epsom to witness the Derby. After considerable manoeuvring, ho gained his point, and deter- mined to do the thing handsome : Sharpwit was to borrow the vehicle— that is, he proposed todrive down, instead of goint' his usual rounds, and excuse his want of orders to the Epsom excitement. Of course Diggs was not let into the secret, and enter- tained no suspicion that his steady shopman was going to exhibit on the Downs. After a great deal of " lying like truth," he was permitted to sleep out the night preceding the auspicious day j and Mrs. Diggs, impressing on his mind the necessity of being in before eleven, generously gave him half- a- crown to spend on bis holiday. II. THE SUPPER. " Well, old fellow," exclaimed Sharpwit, as Jim Slatter entered his lodging, " I began to think the old ' un had smelt a rat, and nailed you to the counter, in order to preserve your morals. I know they are stiff ' uns." " I'm not so easily put out," said Jim. " No ; but I thought you might be easily kept in," re- plied Sharpwit. " But come, we won't waste time. See, here are the togs"— opening a box—" all snug and spicy ; there's a pair o' cords! and look at these mud- pipes." " Prime !" exclaimed the gratified Jim, as he reviewed the sporting suit in which he was to appear on the mor- row, and all procured a bargain by his kind friend. " How much tin have you scraped together ?" demanded Sharpwit. " Twelve pun ten, and an odd half crown," answered Jim. " Excellent!" cried his friend. " I think, with a little of my advice, you may double it. But let's to supper. Mother Davis is doing us a dish of steaks and onions, and — what do you drink ?" " Usually a pint of half- and- half." " Half- and- half!" exclaimed Sharpwit. " That'll never do for a sporting man. No; we must prime with gin or rum- and. water." " You know best," said Slater; " I put myself under your wing entirely. In for a penny in for a pound— it's on'y once a- year." " Bravo! spoke like a man of spirit. I shall make something of you, I see." " No doubt of it," said Jim. Aud Sharpwit really had no doubt of it. j The savoury dish was served up, and the two friends sat down with a glorious appetite. " Rather done too much, as the jockey said, when he betted fifty to one and lost," observed Sharpwit, holding the steak upon his fork. " Smoked and black— wanted a clear fire, Mother Davis," remarked Slatter. " Yes, very like sweep. steaks," said Sharpwit. " How- ever, wo are both hungry as hunters, and the ' course' is of very little importance to a couple of ' bolters.' But you don't drink— mix for yourself, my Trojan— fill as you like— but drink what you fill, as we say at our club. By the by, I must propose you. I assure you we aro a jolly set. Here's your health, Slatter, and to our better ac- quaintance." " You do me proud," said Jim ; " and may you live as long as life's agreeable to you. Hore's your health !" Aud so they continued to eat, and drink, and talk for an hour or more, Sharpwit discoursing learnedly upon horse- flesh, aud enlightening his friend, who was at last obliged to yield to the ovcrpoworing intiueuee of sleep and grog, and retired to bed,— dreaming of horses, and suffering from nightmare. III. THE ROAD. At the Elephant and Castle, at niua o'clock on the following morning, Sharpwit and Slatter were imbibing brandy and soda- water. The " turn- out" lookod very well; and Slatter, with his white cords, " cut- away New- maiket" coat, with gilt buttons, his green neckerchief, and tops, looked very '' spicy, v— and exceedingly pale, from the effects of last night's excess. Vehicles of all sorts, shapos, and sizes, were on the road,— four- horse coaches, tandems, cabs, omnibuses, waggons, vans, go- carts with horses that had but little " go" iu thum, and chaise- carts with six or eight fellows sitting " stern foremost" to the spectators,— giDgor- beer carts and trucks looking very spruce,— the splendid drags of the nobility and the squalid dregs of the muhility, all mingled and crowded together, nobs and snobs, cobs and cabs, presented to Slatter a novel and entertaining mix- turo, all pressing forward to witness the doiugs of the d » y of days, swearing, laughing, joking, poking quips and whips, forming altogether a variety which, like the discord of harmoay, was charming from its very confusion. When within sight of Konuiugtoa turnpike there was a full stop. " What's the matter now?" said Jim. " Some gentleman in a dou. key. cart wanting change for a five- pound note at the ' pike, I suppose," replied Sharp- wit. " See what a line there is." " Yes, a precious Hue you've got me into," said Setter. " The ' stationary line' at proseut," said Sharpwit; " and yet it's something like an angler's, too,— fur you see there's a ' pike' at the end of it." Brajvo !" oxclaimed Slatter, on whom the brandy aud soda- water began to have an exhilarating infiuouco. At last, alter no small trial of patience, our two heroes succeeded in getting through the turnpike,— or, as Sharp- wit said, they " ware called to the bar," and passed. ' *' Ain't this prime, Jim, eh?" remarked Tom. " No scene in a Coburg melodrama was ever more ' moving.' There's all sorts, though unsorted. Look at that stiff' cove in a borrowed turn- out trying to tool a tit, thatsoems as if he had more corns in his tight shoes than corns in his digester, he shows such a precious deal of day- light under his girth. And look how itigantly his sweetheart lolls b » ck in the shay, a fretting the back pf ber satin spensor, and trying to do it handsomely." " Look ye, Tom!" exclaimed Slatter; " there's four hulking fellows in a donkey- cart, with a driver on the shafts. They are surely not' going down ?'" " Ain't they?" answered Sharpwit. " Look! Dapple won't stand it— he kneels in the road— and it's down they are, and no mistake ! Now, gentlumen, draw your Arabian on one side, or you'll tie a knot in the liuo. You had better get up and go home; for you'll never get down with that spirited animal! If you want ms- istaoce, there's pionty more donkeys on the road." " There goes a tight- laced stay. maker," cried one of the " fallen." " Exactly !" replied Tom; " but I only work at home ; you make a stay on the highway. Good- bye." And, whipping up his nag, he passed on. IV. FRAGMENTARY COLLOQUIES. Such a medly of high and low, polite and vulgar, tram- per8, beggars, lords of high degree, and ladies of no de- gree, men of character, and women of none ; dustmen and daudies, jugglers, higglers, cabmen, gentlemen in carriages, and gentlemen of no carriage at all,— produced a scene, if not of instructiou, of great excitement and amusement.— the language being a Babylonish mixture of St. James's and St. Giles's, with all their varieties of dialect. Had ws as many arms as Briareus, or as many quills as a flock of geese, it would be a vain and fruitless attempt to chronicle all the sayings and doings on the way— a task as bootless as a red- legged Irish gossoon or bog- trotter. We shall, therefore, confine ourselves to a few elegant extracts, which may, perhaps, serve as choice morceause for contributors to ladies' albums, or other repertories of scrawled nonsense. " Hullo !" exclaimed a red- faced bagsman, with a broad brimmed hat, and a greeu shawl round his bull- like neck. " Where are you driving to ? Why, you've scratched the back o' my shay with your pole, you have!" " Come, that's a good ' un," said the driver of the vat), " for you to go for to cry out ven you've actilly scratched my pole with your shay. A mau as backs a oss as von't go— must be a mule !" You're right, I am a mule, for I'm just now between a horse and an ass," replied the bagsmau. " Now, old stick- in- the- mud! slip your tile over your left ear, and pay into the ribs of that piece o' hanimated dog's- meat o' yourn." " Vot can I do ? vould you have me drive into that ' ere wan ?" " No! that's impossible! you'll never be in the van, try your best, nor get that knacker's delight o' yourn into a rear,— as long as you breathe. If your mother don't know you're out, how distressed the old ' un will be, for you'll never get home to- night with that specimen o' horse- flesh! he'll be doubled up like a clothes- horse, and come to a stand long before he reaches the course." " Now, drive on, mister,— vy don't ye drive on ? Vip up that ' ere hanimal o' yourn, vill you ?" " Would you have me drive over a coal- waggon ? How can I drive on ! I wish you'd hold your nagging." " Aud I wish you would not hold your nag in, but go for'ard!— Hist! hist!" " Keep on your right Bide," said a smart fellow in a chaise- cart, with a sorry nag. " There, now, you've grazed my vehicle, fellow." " If I had grazed your tit, instead of your vehicle, as you call it," replied the other, " it would have been a charity." " I'll bring an action for damages." " Haven't you got damages enough by the action already ? Come, go a- head, there's a good young gentle- man; a slight brush will mend what a slight brush has done. It'll cost more to pack a jury than to new pauel your precious vehicle." " That ' ere seems a fast horse of yours," said an omni- bus driver to a man who was in vain endeavouring by dint of whipping to make his horse draw his chaise- cart out of a ditch, into which he had driven it. " Werry !" said the man, grinning. V. THE DOWNS. We once saw an immense Daniel Lambert sort of har- lequin exhibited in a Christmas pantomime ; anil the patched and variously coloured crowd reminded us of that parti- coloured hero. We imagined that tho olie^ e Agility, wearied with his exertions, had spread himself over the Downs in a sort of restless repose, as if tumbling about the wide expanse in a nightmare sleep ! Swarthy gipsys, and fair women— satins, velvets, silks, and rags, were in- termingled. There wore people of distinction mingling with people of 110 distinctiou— there was a perfect equality in the pleasures and pursuits of the day— the men of low degree found themselves on a level with their betters— for there were betters among the lowest. The Queen ( God bless her 1) was there; and there was no lack of sovereigns to keep her in countenance, which appeared and disappeared rapidly at the gambling- booths, thimble- rigs, and other temptations to the votaries of chance, who got beggared, in the hope of botteriug their condition. Touters, policemen, pickpockets, ballad- singers, tum- blers, jugglers, knock-' em- downs, and tho distributors of Coding's cards, with correct lists of the horses, all contri- buted to the Babylonisn clamour. " Myheye!" exclaimed Jim Slat. ter, " what a precious lot o' people, I can see nothing but heads." " I'll show you plenty of legs presently," replied Tom. " When will tho fun begin? Where's the racers?" said Jim impatiently. " Doq't be iu a hurry, Jim," said Tom. " I must show you soma of the life on a race- course yet. You see that follow with a three- legged table, with a parcel o' fools about him, with more money than wit— he's a thimble- rigger. That smart cove on his right hand, aud the country- joskin on the left are bonnets." " BoDnets!" said Jim. " What do they call ' em bon- nets lor?" " Because they're men of straw, I suppose. Ho lets them win in order to decoy tho innocents to stake their crowus and sovereigns." Sharpwit, who appeared as much at home on the " turl" as a caged skylark, then took him to the various booths awl stands, and explained all the process of conveyancing, and easing gentlemen of their personal property in the Hiost handsome mauner. At length tho bell rang for saddling, and they returned to their vehicle, in order to have a good sight of the runuiug, and iu about half au hour the horses started. There was an unusual movement of the whole body— beis were offered aud taken, and the utmost excitement prevailed. " Talk of the immorality of a race- course," said Tom, " I say it is the hast place in tho world for improvement; for here many a good man becomes abetter, aud yet some- times finds himself the worse for it." Jim followed the advice of Tom, uul butted oulv with him, and after the horses were in, which, of course, S larp- wit was not aware of, aud betted ten to four agiiiust Attila ( though five to ouo was the closing price of the ex- change), aud found, upou inquiry, that ho had lo. it, for Attilla hail won! Tom was vury much surprised at his friend's ill- luck[ and Jim, not over- pleas d at tha termination of his first day oo a race- course. He lost his spirits with his mousy, and expressed himself anxious to get home, as ho had pio- miaiwl not. to keep the " old uns" up alter eleven. Tom obligingly complied with the reqiiost of his dear, weary, spiritless, hall- muddled friend, and quite content with his da)' s exploit, made for London. On their way home, they saw many horses knocked up, but most of the drivers weru quite fresh, VI. THE WIND- UP. Although | Jim considered his loss as a me. o " matter of course," as Tom expressed it, ho mado a res dution never to undertake a trip to Epsom agniu. Before he laid his aching h lad upon his pdlow, he tuok up tho card with tho pedigrees of the runmog horses, ai- 4 listlessly read them over— cqacluding, with a sigh of ru- n- grot and bitterness, " Jem skitter out of Cash by . Jingo !" 184S. TOM SPAIMG'S Iil FB IN LOIBOI, ftfng* MEMOIR OF REUBEN MARTEN. THE " coming oat " of the pugilistic hero whos? name heads this article, in vindication of the gloty of " old England " against " advancing " Australia, after reposing upon his laurels for fifteen years, has induced us to give a chronicle of the " deeds he has done" in the milling arena, We are the more strongly urged to this by the consideration, that though his fights aro so well known to all " the old ' una" who admire and have observed British pugilism for the last twenty years, yet, by some unac. countable omission, they stand among the omitted battles left unrecorded in " Boxiana," in which work Reuben finds no niche, although it pretends to bring down the history of the Ring to the year 1830. But, to proceed with our memoir. Defoe, by the gaiety of his style of milling, was rather a " fancy article" among the amateurs: his lively conqnest of Reed, and the celebrity he had also gained in throwing a cricket- ball farther than any man who could bo brought against him, rendered him an attractive hero in the sport- ing world. Reuben, on the other hand, was hardly known to the admirers of milling. It is true he possessed a good character as a miller, among a very nearly related trade, namely, the bakers of the metropolis, to which crusty coves he belonged, as he had shown off with tho mufflers in such superior style against several coves who were not to be sneezed at as commoners, that a whole mob of dead men resolvod to support him in his aspiration to pugilistic fame, by matching him against any live man of his weight. In a trial of skill with Dick Defoe, he had little, if any, the worst of it, and hence several of his friends let loose their chaffers, and determined to sport their blunt on their fancy. Nevertheless, Defoe was the favourite, generally, and judges fancied him for choice. The morning of Tuesday, the 16th of March, 1824, was fine, and the road to " the Hurst" had an animated ap- pearance. There were lots of genteel members of society in their tilburies, dennets, stanhopes, buggies, not a few commoners in their tumblers, go- carts, and wans; while the occasional passing of a slap- up four- in- hand belonging to " The Club," or the rattling of a spicy barouche- and- four, gave an aristocratic touch to the picture. As for the toddlers, except a few of those not quite wide- o, they had " gone a- head," as brolher Jonathan says, and ware squatting themselves in various localities near the place of action. But stop : we have arrived at HamptOD, which is well filled by the brilliants of the Corinthian order, whose papas were fortunately born before Ihem, so we'll step into the ferry- boat, and at once make our way on to the Hurst. The ring beiDg duly formed, at one o'clock Defoe, rery spicily togged, skied bis " mitre,'' attended by Tom Oli- ver and Josh. Hudson; and our hero was not long in fol- lowing so good an example, Paddington Jones and Rich- mond officiating as bis " squires of the body " in this " gentle passage of arms," as the knights of old were wont to term their encounters. The colours were pink for Defoe, and light blue for Marten; but Defoe, examining the streamers as they were tied to the stake, observed that Reuben's handkerchief was of very inferior quality, rather tauntingly saying that his wipe was too good to fight against so flimsy a towel. Whereon Reuben mo- destly remarked, " he had not won them yet; perhaps the objection should come afler he had done so." The men were now ready, and the betting was 7 to 4 and 2 to 1 on Defoe, all round the ring. THE FIGHT. Round 1. Defoe, when stripped, was a perfect picture of a man in high condition. Marten, too, looked well, but rather wiry. The attitude of Dufoe was elegant and im- pressive, and his fighting mug bore an easy confidence of victory. Some dodging and feinting took place, but Marten, to the surprise of most spectators, proved an ex- tremely difficult man to be got at; he stopped beautifully, throwing off his antagonist's blows in a very oblique manner, and saving his arms in a way that puzzled some of the knowing ones what to make of him ; still he seemed to be, if anything, rather over- cautions. Defoa put down his hands. The men went at it again ; Defoe patting in a slightyucer, whereat there was some chevying oa the flesh side, but no harm done, his second and heavier blow was stopped with Marten's right; indeed, Defoe seemed very showy in his style, while all Marten had done, for eight minutes, was parrying. At length somebody called oat, " Go in, Dick, he'll stand it!" and Defoe strack cleverly over Marten's guard, exclaiming, " First blood!" " What signifies first blood?" cried Paddington Jones; " last blood for me. You're so clever, why don't you win the fight ?" Defoe tried it on again, but Marten, feinting with his right, put in a heavy bodier with his left; he also re- treated from two hits; when the activity of Defoe delighted the Vesmister coves: he jobbed Marten heavily on the ear, when a sharp exchsnge of blows took place; and in closing, Defoe swung Marten round till both fell. Two to one. The lads from ould Caleb's dominions uproarious with joy. '' Dick can't lose it. VVhere's the doughey phenomenon now?" Nineand a half minutes had elapsed. 2 This round was almost as long as Patterson's " Road- Hook." Defoe kept trying it on, occasionally getting in a nobber, and then retreating again. Josh. Hudson bawled out, " Hallo, Dick! wiu the battle as fast as you like, only don't ill- use tho man ; don't you see he wants to hie yon, and can't 1" Marten paid no heed to the hero of the Half Moon's chaff. Defoe was piping a little; Defoe missed two well- directed blows, and Reuben tipped him a severe body hit. " We are sure to win it!" cried Jones; '• I'll bet 10 to 1." Defoe took the lead so well for a mi- nute or so, that Oliver made a bet of 41. to li. on Defoe. Marten caught a severe rap over the right eye; his ear also was bleeding, and he did not look any the better in other respects, as his receipts had all been in the upper works. " I'll bet 10 to 1 now," cried Oliver; '' West- minster musl win it." Marten was not to be gammoned: he stopped three blows, the last one with his head; bat he sent in a rattling return on Dick's cannister, and a sounder from his right on Dick's ribs. A pause. Defoe, iu a very gay manner, drove Marten all over the ring; then there was another pause, whea Dick received a slogger. It was now seen, though Marten hit oat seldom, when he did, it was a remembrancer. Another long pause. Defoe seemed to have foand out that Marten could not now be got at without a heavy retarn. Reuben napr. an electrifier in the middle of his head: yet, in an exchange of blows, he hit Defoe away : then, closing, threw him and fell over him. [ The dead men were now all aliva and kicking. A tremendous shout from Pie Corner. Defoe's conk was copiously clareted; and, as he sat on Hudson's knee, Oliver placed his h* nd on Dick's wind, ho being evidently much distressed ] 3. The long rounds were at an end ; and this set- to was over ia a twinkling. Marten got a teazer or* his frontis- piece, and his left peeper was considerably damaged ; still lie countered dangerously, and closing, threw Defoe Another shout from the crummy coves for Reuben. 4. Short but sweet, like donkey's gallop. Marten stopped two well meant facers ; yet he could not be pre- vailed on to commence milling. He seemed not rightly to have got over the awkwardness of a " first appearance." A struggle, counterhitting, and Defoe again down. Still the odds were two to one against the master of the rolls 5. This round was over before it was began. Defoe popped in a nasty one, hut got a heavy fall. 3. Marten walked up to his man and in to him, in a style that astonished the flash ones. He hit Defoe heavily, who countered, but Marten fought into a rally, and threw him. The claret appeared from a gash under Defoe's left eye. " That's the way to do business," said Tom Jones ; we used to do so in the ould times of Johnson and Ben; tapping's no use ; hit out as if you meant to floor a brick wall." 7. Reuben appeared to have acquired confidence, he had courage before ; be not only stopped his active opponent, but hit with him. Defoe again down. 8. Dick was getting rather weak and shaky, but he mustered his strength, and rattled in headlong, Marten allowing himself to be bored down, as he couldn't well help it. 9. Reuben took the lead a tiny bit, till a sort of struggle came on, Defoe endeavouring to obtain the throw. Marten, by great exertion, got hold of Defoe in an awkward man- ner, and threw him on his head and shoulders. A vehe- ment cry of " foul!" and " fair!" now took place; but the gentleman who held the watch getting inside the ropes, said he did not see anything unfair on the part of Marten, and Defoe's seconds not insisting on it, the fight proceeded. 10. Defoe run in, got Marten down and fell upon him ; but there was no best in the hitting way. 11. 12, 13, 14. In all these rounds Defoe had the worst of the fighting, and in the fourteenth he clearly went down to avoid Reuben's return. 15. Reuben now " came out of his shell;" he rattled away one- two at Defoe's head; who however, stopped him better than could have been expected; and a milling round ensued. Both down at the close. 16. Another good round. Dick seemed determined to effect a lead, he rattled in and exchanged blows, so de- cidedly in his favour, that the Westminster boys roared again, and in the close got Marten down. [ Oliver offered a guinea to a crown on Defoe. 17. Defoe went in manfully to follow up the advantage he had gained, and popped in one, two, three, four, five, bits in succession, but they were either avoided or so short as to be ineffective for mischief. Reuben at length got his turn, when be caught Defoe a right- hander bang in the middle of the head, making the claret spirt from De- foe's conk, and leaving him quite abroad for two or three seconds. Marten followed np his success, planted two more nobbing hits, and threw his man cleverly. The friends of Marten now took their turn, and offers of " 6 to 4 on the baker" were heard in many quarters. 18. " Go to work," said Jones, " it's all your own." Reuben took the advice of the good ould un, and planted a blow on Dick's head, which floored him like a shot. [ A tremendous shout from the Crummies, the Rash side dumb with the horrors. " Here's Marten for 2 to 1." 19. Defoe bothered, and Marten now took the lead without further ceremony; Defoe, however, fought well, but could not prevent Reuben from nobbing him at his pleasure. Defoe tried a close not liking the hitting, but Marten broke away, and hit him down. [" 10 to 4 on the novice."] 20. It was quite clear Defoe could not last much longer, he came up in an exhausted state. Marten lost no time, but milled him till he cut it by going down, Reuben fall- ing over him. [" A guinea to a crown he don't come two more rounds,'' cried Jones ; but no answer was made but by echo. 21 and last. Reuben was determined to " tie it up." He walked into poor Dick with a rap in the head, that made it shake like a mandarin's in a china shop. Marten " threw off" in fall cry, and " huntod'' Defoe's head till he turned round to save himself from the severity of tho punishment, caught a one- two, and went dowu in a state of complete " botheration," from which all that art could do could not recal him. Tom Oliver gently waved the zephyrs with his hand to refresh and restore him, but in vain, and the John Bull fighter patted his back, calling him his " prime un," with no better effect. He was deaf to flattery as to the sound of time, and the hat was thrown ap for Marten, as the winner of a hundred sovereigns, after a mauly contest of one hour and seven minutes. REMARKS. " The proof of the pudding is in the eating," says a homely proverb, and Marten turned out a much better man than the knowing ones, before this trial, wore ready to admit. Up to the sixteenth round, from his slackness in going in, and the many hits he had taken, without re- turning the compliment, the odds were against him ; yet he was playing a safe game, and he proved that if not so showy a boxer as his antagonist, he could hit harder, and was not deficient in other milling qualities. His stopping was conspicuous for its neatness, and evidently puzzled the lively Dick; he also showed thorough game, and gave promise of being a truly dangerous customer to any one who might choose to try him. He won the fight cleverly, and his numerous parries were enough to vex any oppo- nent who had not an excellent stock ot patience. Reuben fought upon the defensive until his adversary became weak and distressed, and then, like a skilful tactitian, en- tirely changed his plan of operations. " Reuben will be," says a contemporary sporting paper, " a primeplay fellow for any ono who may try an hour's play with him. No fault was to be found with Defoe ; it is true he lost the battle, bat with every credit attached to his character as a brave man, who did his best, and, as the saying runs, the best can do no more. Defoe ascribcd his defeat to the throw in the ninth round, which he stated was " foul in the extreme, but having the chance then in his favour, he went on without claiming the battle, as he might other- wise have done." This, however, admits of serious ques- tion. His own umpire denied the foulness of the throw, and there was a general feeling of its fairness until . this result put some people on " the reek," for causes of this defeat, and the belying of their own judgments, so con- fidently pronounced. Owing to the absence of the Com- mander- in- Chief ( Mr. Jackson) there was no collection for the losing man, as was usual in those good old timos of the P. R. ( To be continued.) RIDING. THE art of riding, or equitation, forms a regular branch of instruction, and is seldom well performed by those who have not been regularly taught. It is not to be supposed that anything we can say can supersede the instructions of the riding- school; but it may be of use to offer a few hints on the subject from the best authorities. Riding should be performed in that manner which is least calculated to oppress the horse and fatigue the rider, and which will be most secure for both parties. The first principle in horsemanship is, that tbe horse and his rider should aet and react on each other, as if governed by one common feeling. To attain this end, the rider must ac- quire the knack of balancing himself properly on the ani mal, and establishing the means of making himself under- stood through certain movements of hand and body, A good horseman will act according to the following direc- tions, given in Walker's Manly Exercises :—" The place of the rider's seat is that part of the saddle into which the rider's body would naturally slide were he to ride without stirrups. This seat is to be preserved only by a proper balance of the body, and its adaptation to even the most violent counteractions of t. h « horse. In relation to the thighs, the rider, sitting iu the middle of the saddle, must rest chiefly upon their division, vulgarly called the fork, and very slightly upon tbe hips. The thighs, turned in- ward, mast rest fiat upon the sides of the saddle, without grasping ; for the rider's weight gives sufficient hold, and the pressure of the thighs on the saddle would only lilt him above it. The knees mast be stretched down and kept back, so as to place the thighs several degrees short of a perpendicular; but nogripe must be made with thein, unless there be danger of losing all other lirld. It' tiie thighs are upon their inner or Hat side of the saddle, both the legs and the feet will be turned as they ought to be. Thus turned, they must be on a line parallel to that of the rider's body, and hang near the horse's sides, but must not touch; yet they way give « ti additional hold to the seat when necessary, and the calves must act in support of the aids of the bands. The heels aro to be sunk, and the toes to be raised, and as near the horse as the heels, which prevents the heal touching the horse. As to the body, the head must be firm, yet free ; the shoulders thrown back and kept square, so that no pull of the bridle may bring them forward. The chest must be advanced, and the small of tho back bent a little forward. The upper parts of the arms must hang perpendicularly from the shoulders, the lower parts at right angles with the upper, so as to form a horizontal line from the elbow to the little finger. The elbows must be lightly closed to the hips, and, without stiffness, kept steady, or they de- stroy the band. The wrist must be rounded a little out- wards. Tho hands should be about three inches from the body, and from the pommel of the saddle, and from four to six inches apart; the thumbs and knackles pointing towards each other, and the finger- nails towards the body. When the rider is in the proper position on horseback without stirrups, his nose, breast, knee, and toe, are in a line. The man and the horse throughout are to be of a piece. When the horse is at liberty, or disunited, as it is termed, the rider sits at his ease ; and, as he collects and unites his horse, so he collects and unites himself. There must, however, be no stiffness of manner more than in sitting on a chair; for it is ease and elegance which dis- tinguish the gentleman." Riding, to one accustomed to it, is best performed with a curb and snaffle bridle; the curb, however, being only employed to bring the animal up by pressure on tho mouth, when occasion requires. As some horses have a much mere delicate mouth than others, the nature of the bridle must depend on circumstances. In holding tho reins, a union of firmness, gentleness, and lightness, is the essen- tial requisite. The foregoing authority alludes to the manner in which the reins are to operate on the mouth of the animal:— The hand being connected with the reins, the reins to the bit, the bit operating in the curb on the bars, and in the snaffle on tho lips, the ridor cannot move the hand, and scarcely even a finger, without the horse's mouth being more or less affected. This is called the cor- respondence, If, moreover, the band be held steady, as the horse advances in the trot, the fingers will feel, by tho contraction of the reins, a slight tag, occasioned by the cadence of every step ; and this tug, by means of the cor- respondence, is reciprocally felt in the horse's mouth. This is called the appuy. While this relation is preserved between the hand and mouth, the horse is in perfect obe- dience to the rider, and the hand directs him, in any posi- tion or action, with such ease, that the horse seems to work by tho will of the rider rather than by the power of his hand. This is called the support. Now, the corres- pondence or effective communication between the hand and mouth— the appuy, or strength of the operation in the mouth ; the support, or aid, the hand gives in the position or action, are always maintained in the manege and all united paces. Without these, a horse is under no immediate control, as in the extended gallop or at full speed, where it may require a hundred yards to pull before we can stop him. The degree of correspondence, appuy, and support, depends, in horses otherwise similar, on the relative situation of the hand. The act of raising the rider's hand increases his power; and this, raising the horse's head, diminishes his power. The depressing of the rider's hand, on the contrary, diminishes his power; and this, depressing the horse's head, increases his power. On these depend the unitedness or disunitedness in the action of the horse." Much may be done to animate ahorse, either in riding or drawing, by addressing a cheerful word to him, instead of the lashing and scolding with which he is too frequently visited. If a horse requires correction or urging by the whip, he should only be touched lightly behind the girth and saddle, never on any account on the head or in a fore part of the body. Some carters strike their horses with sticks over the head and legs, and yell to them like savages — two practices equally detestable, which we should be glad to see abolished. We have also seen riders so lost to humanity, as to whip their horses when restive over the head and ears. Should a rider find that his horse designs to baffle him, he mast be pressed by the legs, urged lightly with the spur, and kept in his proper track, but not drawn up with the curb, or terrified by abuse. The most common pace in road- riding is the trot, which in effect is a rapid walk, and most difficult for a rider to perform with address and a small degree of fatigue to himself. In slow trotting, the body should adhere to the saddle, and when it becomes fast or rough, the body may be raised at the proper moments to ease the jolting. This rising of the bn -' y, however, is to be a result of the horse's action, not an effort of the rider. The proper method is to rise aud fall with tbe leading foot, the body rising from the seat when the leading foot is elevated, and falling when the foot sinks. Unskilful riders nuke an unneces- sary effort by trying to rise and fall in the saddle. In the course of either slow or fast riding, the horse may trouble his rider by plunging, shying, or resliveness. If he kick and plunge, sit upright, hold on by the legs, and do not vex him by any lashing; when let alone, he is not long in coming out of his freak. VVhen he shies, or flies to one side, as if afraid of something, press him on the side to which he is flying, keep up his head, and bring him into his track. Pressing both legs against his sides will generally keep him from running backward. When he becomes restive, that is, turns roand, and has a disinclina- tion to go in the way he is required, the rider must keep him in his track by dint of pressure, a touch of the spur, and the hand. If he has been accustomed to spurs, and finds that your heels are not provided with these appen- dages, your case is very hopeless. We must allow Walker to point out the course to be pursued with a restive horse. If he persists in turning round, the rider must continue " to attack his unguarded side, turn him two or three times, and let the heel and spur, if necessary, assist the hand, before he can arm or defend himself against it. If he still refuse to go the right way, the rider must take care that he go no other, and immediately change his at- tack, turning him about and reining him backward, which the horse is easily compelled to do when he sets himself against going forward. In these contests, the rider must be collected, and have an eye to the surrounding objects; for restive horses try their utmost to place their riders in awkward situations, by sidling to other horses, carriages, tho foot- pavement, the houses, & u. In this case, the rider, instead of pulling him from the wall, must bend his head to it, by which his side next the wall is rendered concave, and his utmost endeavours to do injury are pre- vented. The instant, therefore, that the ridor perceives his horse sidling to any object, he must turn his hoad to that object, and back him from it. There aro some horses who fix themselves like stocks, setting all endeavours to move them at defiance. There, happily, their defence can in no way endanger the ridor. It must, however, be con- verted to punishment. Let tbem stand, make no attempt to move them, and in a short space— frequently less than a minute— they will mote of themselves." The same author recommends the rider to remain per- fectly cool in all these awkward circumstances. " When passion," he observes, " possesses the rider, it prevents that concord and unity taking place which ever should subsist between the rider and his horse. He should always be disposed to amity, and never suffer the most obstinate resistance of a horse to pat him out of temper. If the contest does not demand his utmost exertion of strength, he should be able to hum a tune, or converse with the same composure and indifference as though his horse were all obedience. By these means, the instant a horse finds himself foiled, he desists, having no provocation to con- tend farther, and is abashed at his own weakness. It is the absence of passion which, added to cool observation, makes the English the best riders and drivers in the world." Neither in the above section nor elsewhere have we said anything of the accoutrements of the horse, as all articles of this kind must be lefcto the taste of the party concerned. Tbe harness made by all saddlers is now both handsome and commodious, and so well calculated for tbe comfort of the animals, that it would be superfluous to say anything respecting it, farther than to recommend its being always kept clean and glossy, and that it nowhere galls or presses unduly on the animal's body. A properly bred and care- fully treated horse, i « proud of his harness as well as his coat being kept in a good condition; and these, like other points iu the economy ot this highly useful animal, we press on the attention of all whose duty includes tire part; of horses. Notes of an Overland Journey to Kennington. IT was about eight o'clock on a dull November morn- ing that our little party, consisting of myself and a friend, started forth upon our long- projected expedition to Ken- nington. After about a quarter of an hour's harassing hop- skip- and- jump over a hodgey and ditchy tract of country, we came into the main road, a little above the Fever Hospital in Gray's- inn- lane, and instantly struck out our coarse in a south- westerly direction towards King's- cross, where we hoped to arrive in time for the omnibus. The peculiarly uninteresting country that lies between the point at which we joined the grand route and the top of Gray's- inn- lane will hardly repay the trouble of describing it. The inhabitants are distinguished by their vigorous exertions to cultivate tho barren tracts of soil that are fenced in before their humble dwellings ; but their efforts seem to be ill- repaid, if we may judge by tho dying daisies and blackened stems of would- be ever- greens that contribute their gloominess to a scene, which nature and tho trustees of the Small- pox and Fever Hos- pitals appear to have conspired to render desolate. Having gained the New- road, now one of the oldest thoroughfares in that part of the world, we pushed boldly across, in spite of a partial interruption from a native, who carried a broom in one hand, and stretched out the other towards us, in an attitude denoting that he con- templated the exaction of tribute. We now found our- selves at King's- cross, standing close to that splendid pile of hieroglyphical architecture, which has baffled the skill of travellers to describe, and of which no one on earth but least of all its numerous proprietors and lessees, could ever tell the utility. King's- cross stand in the centre of about six roads, and was originally intended to serve the purpose of an enormous pump; but the projector of this scheme dying before its completion, both pumps, the human and material, were forgotten. It afterwards occurred to some bold and speculative individual that the structure, was the very place for a clock, and one was immediately put up, which answered every purpose but that of telling the time; for, though the clock was a very good eight- day affair, it was necessarily placed so high up, that no one could distinguish the figures marked upon it. At the sug- gestion ot a spirited inhabitant, it was resolved that the clock should be rendered transparent; and transparent it certainly became, for everybody could see right through the face, bat the figures remained invisible. This idea being abandoned, the elegant building attracted the atten- tion of the toll- collectors, who converted it into a toll- house, for which purpose it answered admirably, as far as one out of the six roads was concerned; but, unfortunately, while money was being taken for the passing of a vehicle through one of the gates, carriages were being driven through the remaining five with impunity. Myself and friend now ascended the omnibus that was to bear us on our journey, and having taken our seats on each side of the driver— a place I generally prefer, as it gives an opportunity of seeing the country, and conversing with one who knows it— the whip was thrust into my hand, and the reins into those of my friend, while Jehu and the cad turned into one of the four public- houses which stand within a stone's throw of each other at the spot alluded to. During the firstquarter of an hoar we amused ourselves pretty well, by conversing on the probable incidents of our contemplated trip, and we then whiled away a few minutes very agreeably in talking of the weather— my friend ob- serving it was dusty, and I replying that this might per- haps be attributed to the length of time thit had elapsed since there had been any rain— a view of the question in which my friend at length concurred with complimentary readiness. The peculiar yell which is common to the whole tribe of conductors, or cads, now broke upon our ears, and the well- known shout of " City, City— Bank, Bank," which may be called the national melody of the omnibus men, just as much as the Rails des Vaches is said to be the song of the Alpine milk- boys— apprized us that it was nearly the time for starting. The driver having mounted the box, he seized the reins from my friend, jerked the whip from my hand, and ingeniously awoke his horses, who, like Homer, had been occasionally nodding, by sawing at their mouths for some minutes with the bits, and lashing the tips of their ears with a precision that called forth oar ad- miration of his great ability. A loud slamming of the door set off the gallant steeds without any intimation from the coachman, and we were now fairly off, at a pace just sufficient to satisfy the provisions of the act, which re- quires that the omnibas should keep moving. The first object of curiosity which we came to was St. Chad's Well, a mineral spring, or spa, to which a pump is attached; and there is, or was, a room for the accommoda- tion of subscribers, fitted up with a wooden bench, and a half- pint mug of white earthenware. St. Chad is little known; and, upon asking lor information from the driver regarding the saint, he only looked in my face, and laughed,— which I thought a confirmation of the truth, that no man is a prophet in his own country ; for it is clear that Chad is not venerated as a saint ought to be among the inhabitants of his own immediate neighbour- hood. The spa is seldom resorted to except by those who carry linen to be mangled on the premises ; for, the mineral waters having iong ceased to be attractive, the building has been let to a laundress, who keeps up the board which announces the terms of subscription, rather than incur the trouble and expense of removing it. We now proceeded at a better pace, and had a fine view on our left of Coldbath- Fields prison, which stands on the brow of Mount Pleasant, and looks out upon the quiet little ville of Penton. The view from the corner of Cal- thorpe- street, is one of the finest things in this part of the country, for as far as the eye can reach it travels over a chequered landscape of hill and dale, while it rests at last, fatigued with its luxuriant repast, upon the chimney- pots of the Sir Hugh Myddleton's head, and catches a glimpse of the top of the neighbouring water- works. We now pushed onwards, and passed the top of Liqaorpond- street, so called from the bursting of a porter- vat at some remote period, of which there are no records, and when the liquor filled a pond, of which there does not remain at present the smallest vestige. We passud in rapid succession tbe celebratod outlets which ran lroin Gray's- inn- road on either side, and we noticed the pretty little street of Tash, in which there is nothing remarkable— though the pawnbroker's shop at tho corner is an object of no ordinary interest. Journeying still onwards, our vehicle took an easterly direction, and leaving Middle- row on our right, we found ourselves at Holborn Bars, which are something like the North Pole, inasmuch as the pole and the bars are neither of them actual substances, bat certain landmarks for the guidance of travellers. We soon commenced the perilous descent on Holborn- hill, which was achieved without any calamitous result; and, whilw the drag was boing taken off, we had an oppor- tunity of observing the awful steep of Suow, and caught a glimpse ol the celebrated picture of the Saracen's Head as we turned off by the street of Farringdon. Here the route became extremely interesting, for on one side is the market, and ou the other is the prison, reminding the poetical reader of Byron's beautiful lines :— " I stood in Vcnice, on the Bridge of Sighs, A prison and a palace on each hand." The imagination has only to picture the omnibus on which we were travelling as the Bridge of Sighs,— aud indeed in size if would pretty well correspond,— while fancy might easily regard the market as a palace * and the,#, on your left, is the prison, to complete the illusion. In dreams like these I was almost beginning to forget where I was, when a shout from behind of " The Celerity's coming, Bob 1" produced a frightful effect upon our driver. With one hand he plied the whip, with the other he tugged at the reins, and we literally gallopped up Bridge- street, at a pace which made me fancy I was in the position of Ma- zeppa, while my companion became so alarmed that he looked like Death upon the pale horse, himself being whiter than the colourless animal. Nothing could now exceed the exciting nature of my position. Placed by the side of a driver, who was belabouring his team with fearful energy, while the cattle snorted in the breeze, and clattered through the dust; a cad clamouring behind me, and a timid companion shivering at my elbow it will be allowed that my situation was very distressing. In the midst of all this a woman was seen on the pavement,— there was a shout from the cad, a sudden pull up by the driver; the omnibus behind us did the same thing. Two men were seen struggling with one female; now she is led to the left, now dragged to the right; she asks a question ; her bundle is snatched from her hand, and she clings to her umbrella ( upon which a similar attempt is made) with desperate energy. The trio fell a little into our rear ; there is the loud talking of two men, amid which is indis- tinctly heard the shrill expostulations of one woman; awful oaths are exchanged; there is a scream, a yell, a slam of the door, and all is over,— we are on our road to the Elephant. Having waited a few minutes at this place, I am enabled to say, from what I had time to observe, that the Elephant and Castle might probably have derived its name from an old castle, which formed, perhaps, the fortification of the Old Kent Road, by which Ctesar is said to have entered London. If any castle stood there, it is not unlikely to have been placed on an elephant's back ; and if this notion be correct, the elephant and the castle are at once ac- counted for. We now passed Onwards at a good pace, and presently found ourselves at the Horns— an inn of some repute, which is flanked on the west by a cab- stand. Here we alighted, and set off towards the common, it being our in- tention to make some geological researches into the soil in the neighbourhood. We found it to consist of a grassy substance, which had been much worn by people passing over it. Having re- moved a little of the vegetation, we camo to a mnddy material, which we had no hesitation in pronouncing to be of the same quality as the earth in the neighbourhood • of Islington, which had been the scene of all our previous researches. Having satisfied our curiosity, and completed the object of our journey, we got into the same omnibus that brought us, and ultimately reached King's. cross, fatigued in body and in mind by the various exciting inci- dents that occurred on our way to and from Kennington. THE HALF- WATER. THERE are about two miles of water running by th side of the long meadows in which the right of fishery divided between ns and the Laughton's. It is the fine pike fishery I know. The water is about eight feet dee well weeded, with here and there a deep hole and gall ' lowed by good gravelly scowers and swift shallows ; wh of course, there is excellent casting for roitch, dace, gudgeon. The stream is not too swift, neither is it dull: for lying between Penn Staunch and Allan every day, and frequently oftener, there comes do staunch water which sets the fish on the move, and en us excellent sport. Well, we always fish the Half- wate the first time the first Monday in July, for several reas Pike never bite well at trimmers until July. The w is best calculated for trimmering and ill- adapted for t' ing from the same cause— the weeds: which, while f form the finest and surest haunts for large pike, a being cut in holes afford splendid sport for a trimmer, i fectually block the troller from doing much good, fish witl whatever hook he may. I do not mean to say that the arrow gorge— the comthon old gorge- hook, and several modem hooks may not be worked, and well- worked, and with good success too, amongst weeds: but in the Half- water they are so thickly bedded, and so interminable, that we always trimmer here and troll elsewhere in summer. A hint which may not be amiss in regard to many other waters. Now, the old and excellent method of • trimmering among weeds is to cat holes with a small hook or scythe at about twenty yards asunder, and then fixing tho living bait with a good sized bullet ( proportioned in weight to the swiftness of the stream), and sinking the roller with a stone or brick, to sot a mile or half a mile of water on one side or both about once a fortnight. Perhaps there is no better plan— bat there is another plan which a trial will speak for better than I can. It is to cut several runs through the weeds about three feet in width and thirty or forty feet in length, making a circular cut at each end. and there placing a trimmer. Wo had an enormous pike in tho Half- water last August, and as his hauut was as well known to us as possible, we had several sets for him, but all failed. At length I thought of this mode of fishing, and, no sooner thought than done, I got the boat, and weed- hook, and cutting a lane through the weeds, made two good- sized holesat each end. I then left the place quiet for three weeks. One Thursday morning there was a fine southerly wimfand very little suu, and the gov. having a party that day, I told him what was up, and went to work. With a moderate roach baited in either hole, I fixed myself on the shore, waiting patiently, while angling for perch, the issue of my manoeuvre. About an hour had elapsed and I heard him strike— five minutes more and he flung out of water a yard, if he sprung au inch. The hook was in his gullet: he was mine. I had never taken my eye from the spot after I heard the strike until I saw his plunge, and then, packing up my perch- tackle, and gathering my perch to- gether, I got into the boat and went in quest of my prize. About a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes had elapsed, and I knew he was mine, unless some " untoward event" had spoilt all. " To the hole with the boat, and row steady, Ned," quoth I, " and where's the line?" Tho first grope with the sprit missed it, but it Came with the se- cond, taught as a cable. He had run far in the weeds- it is astonishing how a large pike imbeds himself in weeds when he is deeply hooked, but quietly aud cautiously clear- ing them from the line, and coiling it carefully in the boat; by- and- bye we came up with him, and after the usual plunge, splash, and struggle, he was safe in the peck— thirty- two inches from eye to fork. Since that day, whenever I mean mischief, I cut a dozen lanes or weed paths, and then, after giving a week or ten days to the pika to use them in security, with two dozen trim- mers, am safe of a splendid day's sport. Thus, if all's well, I shall cut my lanes the longest day, and. four days after I figure in print, be quietly at work in the Half- wacer, amongst my lanes and holes. A kind ef " City of the Sea'' is thus around me. Broad streets and ample squares for the habitants of the waters, and I the architect of all. And s © the love of fields, and flowers, and waters which belongs to country- life, and lends to fishing and shooting- half their zest and enjoyment, may find a fresh fund of pleasure and amusement in the mimic scene of artificial towns in the Nene, the Welland, and the Cam. — New Sporting Magazine. CHARLES WILLOWDALE. How TO FALL PROM A HORSE.— In all falls, the horse- man should roll away from his horse as soon as he possibly can, lest, in his struggle to rise again, he strike him with his legs or head. It frequently happens that the horse himself after he falls, and, if in tho direction in which his rider lies, is apt to crush aud injure him. Indeed, there is scarcely any hard rider who has not been thus served ; but here again sell- possession often stands his friend. When he sees the body ot the horse approaching him, he frequently saves himself by meeting it with one of his feet, and, by obtaining a fulcrum, shoves his own body along tbe ground out of his reach. Coolness in this hour of paril likewise serves the sportsman in another way. Instead of losing hold of his reins, and abandoning his horse to his own will as the man who is flurried at this time invariably does, he keeps them in his hand, if not always, perhaps in nine falls out of ten, and thus secures his horse. It was the remark of a gentleman to whom we have before alluded, and who ( singulus in arte) was, from his desporate system of riding, and despite of his fine horsemanship, known to have more falls than any other man during the time he hunted Leicestershire, that nothing had so low an appearance as that of a man running p » > ot over a field, culling out," Stop my horiie," TOM SPRING'S LIFE II LONDON. JACK CURTIS, THE GROOM. OF the " little ones," a better bit of stuff was not to be found in the milling circles, during the height of his pugi- listic career, than the late unfortunate Jack Curtis. He was not destitute of science, and possessed a tolerably good knowledge of boxing, although his movements were not directed by superior skill s but severity of hitting, supported by unimpeachable bottom, were most decidedly his leading features as a prize- boxer. He, nevertheless, was a cool, steady fighter in the ring. In the neighbour- hood of Bermondsey, it seems, he was quite a fancied article, and no lack of backers ever experienced to take him by the hand upon any occasion. Curtis was in height about five feet six inches, and when stripped, in point of exhibiting a close and hardy frame, he greatly resembled Scroggins; but the former did not weigh above 10st. 41d. The first battle of any note in which Curtis appeared in the ring, was with Jack Atoherlee ( otherwise denominated Nacker Jack), a man considerably taller and much heavier than himself, for ten guineas a side. This contest took place at Rushey- green, a short distance from the metro- polis, in August, 1815, on the Walworth- road, in the pre- sence of some thousands. The game evinced by Curtis astonished every one; his nob was so dreadfully punished that all traces of his face were completely lost sight of; his nose also lay quite flat; and his ears were reduced to a mere mummy. In fact, this battle partook of so much determination on both sides, that numerous spectators turned away from the terrible effects of it; and, notwith- standing the chance was so much against Curtis, he posi- tively refused to give in, till he had fought for one hour and thirty- seven minutes, when nature was so exhausted that he was carried off the field insensible, and a defeated man. His next battle was with Tom Rowe, at Moulsey- hurst, for ten guineas a side. This contest was also desperately carried on for an hour and ten minutes, when Curtis proved the conqueror. It was a good fight altogether ; but Curtis displayed so much manhood, and took the lead in such a superior style, as to claim the attention and praise of the amateurs. From the above improved display, Curtis was considered able to enter the lists with West- country Dick; and on Tuesday, March 5th, 1816, on Haves- common, near Ux- bridge, these heroes met in the ring, at one o'clock, for a handsome purse. Oliver and Richmond seconded Curtis; and Shelton and J. Clark for Dick. Seven to four on Curtis. After the usual ceremony, the men set- to. Round 1. Like many first rounds little execution was performed by either combatant. Both men were incorrect in their distances, when Curtis was thrown. Dick gained pplause, and also reduced the betting. 2. Dick, full of bustle, went to work without delay, and ied to plant his one- two on the body and nob of his ponent, but the superior skill of Curtis stopped the in- ition. He however slipped down in making a blow. 1. Both the heroes were now on their mettle, and sharp ' procal hitting occurred. Curtis, at length, took the , and drew the cork of his opponent; but the latter, eturn, also brought forth the claret, and threw Curt; s. . This was a tolerably even contested round. The ; ty of Dick gained no advantage over the coolness of tis. In closing, both went down, owing to the slippery • te of the grass. 5. Dick succeeded in planting his favourite right- handed ; on the body of his opponent; but Curtis, with much . everity, knocked down Dick in return with his left hand. Loud shouting, and 2 to 1 offered on Curtis, without any hesitation. 6. Punishment was severely dealt out upon both sides and Dick appeared rather distressed. The latter also re- ceived a tremendous nobber that brought forth the claret profusely; but Curtis was ultimately thrown over the ropes. 7 to 2 on Curtis. 7. This round was most manfully fought. Dick com menced with uncommon gaiety, and his right hand was at work like the fly of a jack, and severely milled his adver. sary's body. Curtis, with equal spirit, attacked his oppo nent, till they went down in a close, quite exhausted. 8. It was evident that Dick had not recovered from the effects of the last round, and the chance of winning ap peared strongly against him. Dick was quite confused and missed most of his blows, while Curtis kept succes sively planting nobbing hits. In closing, Dick made a desperate effort, and sent Curtis, as before, out of the ropes. 9. The courage of Dick was much admired, and although suffering greatly from the severe blows of the last round, he stood up to Curtis in gallant style. In struggling for the throw both went under the ropes. 10. Dick ultimately threw his man ; but he received much injury in this round from his knuckles coming in contact with his adversary's elbow. 11. Notwithstanding the hands of Dick were much dis- abled, he fought with the most determined resolution; but Curtis had the superiority in every point of view. In closing, they both fell over the ropes. 12. Dick, with mnch dexterity, floored Curtis as he was going in. Great applause. 13 to 33 and last. It would be superfluous to detail, minutely, the whole of the above rounds. In many of them Dick fought with his accustomed courage, but in se- veral instances he lost his temper. His right hand might be said to have gone, it was also lacerated and swelled, and his left was not effective. He had no chance of winning ; and after fighting in the most gallant manner for fifty- eight minutea he was reluctantly compelled to acknowledge that he had had enough! Lazarus, termed the Jew boy, who put out his shoulder in fighting with George Ballard, and which accident, it seems, deprived him of victory, was, at length, matched against Curtis. The character of the Jew stood high among the amateurs, from the capabilities he had shown in his late battle, and a good fight was anticipated. They met at Coombe- warren, on Wednesday, June 26, 1816. Oliver seconded Curtis, and Lazarus was attended by some of his own people. Odds, 5 to 4 on Curtis. Round 1. At setting- to considerable caution was dis- played on both sides, and nearly a minute had been oc- cupied in sparring before any blows were exchanged. Curtis, at length, put in a facer, which brought forth the claret, when the Jew sharply returned upon his opponent's nose, that not only started the blood, but sent Curtis down. 2. Cautious sparring, when Lazarus again sent his man down. 3. Both on the look- out to obtain an advantage, when they got into a rally, but soon broke awav. In closing, Curtis fibbed the Jew severely, and they both fell over the ropes. 4. Both down, but Curtis had the best of the round. 5. Well contested on both sides, but, in closing, Curtis fibbed bis opponent down. 6. Curtis made play and put in a good hit, when the Jew sharply returned. In closing, Curtis again sent his man down. 7. The Jew attacked impetuously, bored his adversary to the ropes, and hit him down. 8. Lazarus generally waited for his opponent's hitting fust, when he instantly returned. After some sparring, Lazarus was floored. 9. Both parties appeared rather painted about the mug, and the Jew again went down. 10. Upon setting- to Curtis ran his man down. 11. Curtis put in some good hits, and had the best of the round, but owing to the slippery state of the grass, he went down from a slight hit. 12. The Jew went to work a little, and appeared to have the best of the round. 13. Curtis seemed the best man, but his opponent had too much length and weight for him. However, he was by no means shy, and generally commenced hittiDg. In closing, the Jew had the worst of it, and went down. 14. A close Boon took place, and both were on the ground. 15. The strength of Lazarus assisted bira in throwing Curtis and falling upon him. 16. The Jew had the best of this round. Inclosing, a struggle took place for the advantage, hut Laaarua fibbad his man down. 17. Several hard blows were exchanged till they closed, when they both fell over the ropes out of the ring. Curtis immediately jumped up quite fresh. 18. Curtis put in a severe blow upon his opponent's nob. In clos'mg, a severe struggle took place between them to obtain the throw, but Curtis was uppermost. 19. Lazarus ran rapidly in and sent Curtis down. 20. Curtis showed himself off to good advantage in this round. He slipped down from a slight hit he re- ceived, but instantly jumped up on his legs with the ut- most gaiety, and soon afterwards sent Lazarus down. 21. This was a sharp milling round. In closing, Curtis fibbed the Jew down over the ropes. 22. The Jew showed considerable activity and game. He faced his man with good confidence, and planted a hit that sent his opponent down. 23. Some hard blows exchanged, when both went to the ground. 24. Lazarus, in closing, got Curtis's head under his arm, punished him slightly, when both went down in struggle. 25. Curtis put in a light hit, but, from the slippery state of the grass, Lazarus went to the ground. 26. It was steady fighting on both sides, but Curtis from his staying qualities, was the favourite. He had the best of the round, but ultimately both found the ground. 27. Curtis seemed rather taking the lead, and had not his opponent been the heaviest man, he would soon have made great progress towards victory. He went in with much gaiety, and finally brought Lazarus down. 28. The Jew rather cautious, stopped a heavy blow, and made a sharp return; but Curtis on the alert, ulti- mately sent him down. 29. This was a fighting round altogether. The Jew, on his mettle, put in a severe body blow, which was in- stantly returned on the nob by Curtis. Several heavy blows were exchanged between them, when, at length, Lazarus went down. 30. In closing, Curtis threw the Jew out of the ring. 31. Lazarus set- to with spirit, but Curtis was too much for him ; and, in closing, both fell. 32. The Jew hit Curtis, when the latter slipped down, owing to the wet state of the ground. 33. Some hits were exchanged, when Lazarus went down. 34. Of no consequence. 35. Lazarus attacked Curtis with much severity, and finally knocked him down out of the ring. Curtis, with the utmost ease, got up himself, and came to his seconds, He was much applauded. 36. Both their fjjices were crimsoned, and Curtis slipped off his balance from a hit, and went down. 37. The Jew kept the advantage, and again sent his man down. 38. In closing they both fell, but Lazarus undermost. 39. An exchange of hits took place, when Curtis mea. sured his distance well, and put in a severe fccer, that brought his antagonist down. 40. Some hard milling passed between them, but the Jew had the best of the round. In closing, both fell. 41. From the number of rounds thy had fought, and their quickness iu coming to the scratch, it was evident they were nothing else but good ones. The Jew was ultimately sent down, but he endeavoured to put in some hits before he fell. 42. Curtis, full of gaiety, went in and sent his man down. 43. Two steadier boxers could not be witnessed, and both felt eager to make every blow tell. Much recipro- cal fighting had taken place between them, and, to the unbiassed spectator, the Jew appeared equally as good as the Christian. In closing, they both went down. 44. Curtis rather the best of it, and sent his opponent down. 45. The superiority again was on the side of Curtis, and Lazarus ultimately went to the ground. 46. The Jew set- to spiritedly, and planted some good hits to his advantage, and levelled his opponent. 47. Lazarus again had rather the lead. A few blows were exchanged, when Curtis went down. 48. The liveliness of Curtis rendered him attractive, and whether floored or not he was always ready to mill. The length of the Jew protected him from a great deal of punishment which he otherwise must have received. In a close, both went down, but Curtis uppermost. 49. The Jew put in a severe facer, which was sharply returned on the body by Curtis. They closed, and both fell. 50. This was a hard fought round, and the Jew put in a clean knock- down blow. Curtis jumped up with the utmost sangfroid. Great applause. 51. Both went to work in earnest, but the Jew was sent down. 52. Curtis, full of pluck, followed up his success and went in to mill away; some good hits were exchanged, when Lazarus again went down. 53. Curtis kept the lead, but the Jew, not undismayed, returned hit for hit, till he found himself on the ground. 54. A sharp attack commenced between them, when they closed against the ropes, and both fell, Curtis strug. gling to fib his opponent. 55. The Jew rushed in and bored Curtis to the ropes, but he had the worst of it, and was sent down. 56. Curtis, on the alert, was going resolutely in to mill, but the Jew stopped him by a severe knock- down blow. 57. Lazarus, eager to improve this advantage, com- menced fighting, but was ultimately sent down. 58. Both parties trying to obtain the superiority, some heavy blows were exchanged, when they closed, and both fell. 59. The Jew measured his distance well, and quickly levelled his opponent. 60. In closing, Curtis had the best of his adversary, and dropped him in style. 61. The activity of Curtis was pleasing, and he let no opportunity pass without taking advantage of it, and planted so severe a hit under the Jew's ear, that he went down like a log. 62. Lazarus soon recovered himself, had the best of the ronnd, and floored his man. 63. The Jew made a good hit, but the slippery state of the grass seemed to operate more towaids sending Curtis down than from the effects of the blow. 64. A few blows passed between them," when Curtis got Lazarus down. 65. The Jew from a slight hit slipped down. 66 and last. Lazarus did not appear particularly to have the worst of the round, but he was ultimately sent down by Curtis ; and some surprise was manifested when it was announced that the Jew had given it in, as he stood well upon his legs. It was urged that his shoulder was again dislocated. In this battle, notwithstanding the courage displayed by Curtis, he did not take the lead over his opponent, as had been anticipated; and it was the, expressed opinion of the best judges upon tho subject„ that, had not the shoulder of Lazarus given way, the manner of its termination would have been very doubtful. Curtis, it seems, was now anxious to enter the lists with Ned Turner, little more than a novice, but whose character was rising as a boxer in Bermondsey. After a few meetings to arrange the affair in question, they were accordingly matched for 100 guineas. Curtis was confident in the extreme that victory would attend his efforts; in- deed, he flattered himself that his opponent would not have the slightest chance with him; and his friends were equally sanguine, and sported the odds very high against Turner. This unfortunate contest took place on Tuesday, October 22, 1816, at Moulsey- hurst, when, after fighting one hour and twenty- five minutes, against the repeated remonstrances of his friends, he was taken out of the ring in a state of insensibility, and expired in a few hours afterwards. LAST MOMENTS OF A DEALER. AN EQUIVOCAL WARRANTY.—" Verbal warranties are not to be depended upon, by reason of their being liable to misrepresentation. For example, in a case of fraud brought some years back before the magistrates of Bow- street, it appeared that a person in the character of a quaker was asked by a purchaser if his horse would draw? ' Thou wouldst bless thine eyes,' said he, ' if thou couldst see him draw.' On this implied warranty the bargain was effected; but, on its being found the horse would not draw, the quaker warffremonstrated with, and made this answer; ' I told . thee, friend, it would delight thine eyes to see my horse draw; I am sure it would delight mine, for I never could make him draw an ounce in his life.' " IN a email room situated above the stables of a certain yard which shall be nameless, lay stretched upon the bed of death the Bearcely- animate corpus of Mr. Jonathan Ginger, horse- dealer, livery- stable- keeper, and hackney- The pallid and bloated countenance, the eyes deeply sunk in their orbits, and which erst sparkled with so lively an expression of cunning, but in which there was now, alas! " no speculation," and the short and gasping respiration betokening the too- oft- repeated imbibition of Barclay's double- stout and - Hodges' treble- distilled, indi- cated but too truly that if Mr. Jonathan Ginger had not discovered " Death in the pot,'' he had succeeded in find- ing him in the pottle, and that he was now lying at the mercy of the grim monster, whose claw was already out- stretched to seize upon that prey with whose period of mortal agony he seemed playfully to dally, even as the wanton young grimalkin is wont to whet her appetite for slaughter by the exhibition of certain fugitive efforts of the crippled victim of her talons. The uncertain light admitted into the bed- room, which was situated under the covered ride of the yard, scarcely sufficed, in conjunction with the feeble rays emitted by a mutton- dip, to display the ornaments with which the walls were decorated. After the eye had become somewhat habituated, however, to the peculiar light which reigned in the apartment, the difficulty of discerning surrounding objects became sensibly diminished, and it was then appa- rent that tho taste of the proprietor had furnished his sleeping- room principally with certain implements con- nected with his business— as, divers neat crops and thongs, arranged in special order one over the other; sundry pairs of spurs, some straight and stout, others bent upwards at a trifling angle, and others again whose shafts declined in a slight degree in the opposite direction ; curious bits of almost every imaginable form; and stirrups of every de- scription— slight and finely- tempered for the jockey ; stout and serviceable for the road or the field ; opening with a spring for such as deemed their powers of horsemanship scarcely capable of securing them from a tumble ; rough- bottomed and smooth- bottomed ; squarish, semicircular, and elliptical. Above these choice specimens of our dealer's fancy hung coloured prints in oaken frames, whose subjects were wonderfully typical of the spirit of their possessor. Here might be seen two fighting- cocks, each with spur on leg and outstretched neck, anxiously watching for an opening to commence the attack, and scientifically on the look- out for any false move on the part of his adversary whereby he might leave unguarded some vital spot wherein to drive the shining steel— rum-' uns both. Annexed to this was a rare picture of a Greenwich pensioner, minus a leg and arm, and whoseemed to retain scarcely sufficient strength in his remaining fin tosupport a huge tankard of Charring- ton's XXX; the wooden leg cocked in the air, as though it were playing at see- saw with the body, which looked prepared to sway backwards and forwards upon the hip. joint of the unmutilated member, and the countenance strikingly characteristic of the happy insouciance of votary of Bacchus. Representations were there likewise without number of venturous sons of St. Hubert, who, mounted on modern Pegasi, were flying across what, to a Dutchman, would appear to be a tolerably correct deli- neation of the Zuyder Zee, but which the explanatory letter- press underneath, satisfactorily proved to be nothing more than the Whissendine Brook or the New River. Some of the companions of these choice spirits, less for- tunate than their competitors for fame, might be discerned emerging from a dip over head and ears in the " world of waters," but still most miraculously sitting their horses with unexampled grace, and forcing them to swim " for the bare life;" while others again might be distinguished ( in a plate representing the future career of these worthies towards the goal of their aspirations) coming neck and crop over a hedge, bank, two ditches, and as many posts and rails, their horse's heels uppermost, and their heads doubled completely under their bodios, throwing a summerset that would excite the envy of old Joe Grimaldi's ghost, while their riders are taking a flying leap, head foremost, into a deep chalk or gravel- pit. To make amends, however, for the harrowing sights here exhibited to the spectator, ano- ther marvellously executed plate occupies the next couple of square feet of the wall, wherein all apprehension of the ultimate fate of the gallant steeds and their riders is fully relieved by their all happily appearing making full sail for the winning post, which is in view, without any interven- ing impediment, and ( which is worthy of observation) ex- hibiting no trace of their mishaps by flood and field, but, on the contrary, looking as clean and fresh as at the mo- ment ol starting. Nor were there lacking those splendid illustrations of Mr. Osbaldeston performing his two- hundred- mile match against time, in which the extraordinary rate of travelling has so far altered the features of the squire as to give him anything but a gentlemanlike appearance; and the won- derful performance of the celebrated American trotter Tom Thumb, who seems so disgusted with the soil of his ancestors that he scorns to touch it, while indignation at being exported from his native country swells out. his neck till it has far exceeded the dimensions of his body— a trick of producing a double or triple neck, which he seems when excited to have acquired a la Widow Barnaby. An inqui- sitive inspector of the remaining pictures which decorated the dormitory of Mr. Jonathan Ginger would doubtless not have passed over the well- known prints of the rat- destroying Billy of Westminster- pit notoriety ; of several of the sturdy pugilistic champions of England ; the Norfolk phenomenon; some prime portraits of a few chairmen of some noted free- and- easy clubs; and— we blush to say it — three or four very alluring representations of females, whose loose scale of morality has handed their names and persons down to posterity in a manner far more durable than the strictest adherence to virtue and principle could have secured for them. Among these figured conspicu- ously " A portraiture of the celebrated Nell Gywnne," in which the lady was depicted ill a rakish sort of undress, and leering most significantly from behind a huge pile of oranges at " His most sacred Majesty of blessed memory," whose mouth appeared to water at the luscious heap pre- sented to his admiring gaze. The room was hot and close, and the strong mixed efflu- vium of physic and Geneva which pervaded it, under other circumstances would doubtless have driven from it those whose sense of smell had not been impaired by disease or along habit of enduring similar odours; but at present the scent was inhaled unheeded by the occupants of the apartment, whose feelings of anxiety precluded the chance of a too- delicate discrimination of so trifling an inconve- nience. The doctor had not long taken his leave, after recom- mending his patient to settle any mundane concerns which might disturb his last hours; and, in accordance with this last intimation, Mr. Jonathan Ginger had caused his family to be assembled around his bed, and had likewise desired the attendance of his foreman and factotum, Bill Spavin ( so nick- named from a slight lameness in one knee), in order that he might bear witness to the valedic- tory admonitions which he was about to bestow upon the offspring of his loins, and receive his parting injunctions respecting certain matters of business which hung heavy on his soul. Behold him then propped up with sundry pillows, his nightcap hanging nearly over his eyes, a glass of hot brandy- and- water in one hand and a pill- box in the other, and flanked on one side by his better half, a fat and burly dame, whose physiognomy was radiant with dram- begotten blotches, which shone the more fiercely from being moistened by her tears ; and on the other a lanky red- headed youth, with phiz elongated and mouth half open, as though he stood on the brink of bellowing forth his grief; while his sister. Miss Jemima Ginger, a pret- tyish and very plump specimen of female frailty, blocked up the opening between the curtains at the foot of the bed, and silently wiped with alternate oare the corner of either eye with a very smart black silk apron, whose dimensions, were it not for the purpose to which it was at present ap- plied, would have argued it to have been made more for j show than utility. A few short coughs from the departing dealer, which elicited from Bill Spavin the pathetic ejaculation, " Poor feller, qvite broken- vinded, an' no mistake," ushered in the parting advice of the honest man to his hopeful heir. " Samyul, I've always been a father to you, and I hopes you'll pay attention to the last words as you'll ever hear from my lips. The doctor says as how there's no hope for me in this vorld, vich I partly thinks is my own fault for employing him, and not sending at vonce for our weteri- nary, Mr. Drench, who'd ha' cured me in no time at all, I've werry little doubt, same as he did that ere grey ' oss a short time ago, as ve al I thought vas booked for the ken- nel .... Ugh! Ugh ! Ugh! .... You remembers that ere grey, Bill, as I sold arterwards for a hundred an' fifty to Lord Softsoap ?" " Sure I do, master; you means the vun as vas so bad vith the flenzy, vot made him such a roarer, poor critter!" " The same, Bill. Veil, God help me, I shall varrant no more roarers in this vorld, for—" " Don't say so, master, don't now," interposed Bill, who felt deeply grieved at the bare thought of such a la- mentable fact. ' It's true, Bill; I'm afeard its too true. Not that I vouldn't, if I could, but it's God's vill that I shan't ha' the chance. I feels myself a getting weak: so—"—( here followed a long pull at the brandy- and- water, with a glance at the pill- box)—" I'll purceed at vonce vith the few re- marks I ha' got to make to you, Samyul, and vich, if you follows, I've no doubt of your being a man respected an' veil todo in the vorld, as your poor father's been afore you. " In the first place, then, never pay ready money for a ' oss ven you can get him for a bill, for a bill arn't recover- able without a haction at law, an' its qvite astonishin' how wery few people likes to get into the hands o' them lawyer chaps, ' cos they're sure to get plucked by ' em in the long run. Vonce money's paid its gone; vereas ven a bill come due, if so be as you means to take it up, you can always make out a story o' the ' oss bavin' turned out badly, an' so get somethin' taken off, but nobody thinks o' returnin' money vonce they've put it in their pocket. '' Always, if you can, buy a ' oss of a gentleman in pre- ference to a dealer; for they knows little or nothin' of ' osses, an' its the easiest thing in the vorld to persuade ' em as the souudest ' oss alive has got all sorts o' defects, an' arn't worth above half vot they ask for him ; vereas a dealer's up to that dodge, an' arn't to be done by no sich gammon. " Ven you can manage to make a swap, always do so rayther than pay money, for you'll be a werry poor sort of a dealer, an' I shall consider all the pains an' trouble I ha' taken to teach the straightfor'ard principles o' your purfession as so much labour lost, if by that means you don't get preciously the best o' the bargain. " Varrant everything, sound or unsound, for, as I said afore, there's wery few people as don't prefer an unsound ' oss to a lawyer's bill. Besides, ' osses is living hanimals, an' as sich is liable at all times to diseases, vich in course may occur alter you ha' sold ' em. You understand me. A varranty's tho werry marrow an' wirtue o' dealing. Many a gentleman von't buy the best ' oss as ever vent on four legs vithout vun, an' so if they're so easily satis- fied, poor things, it's a pity to spile a good bargain for the vant o' vun. " If you varrant a kicker quiet in ' arness, an' he kicks a genleman's shay to pieces, you may take him back pro- vided he's a good customer, but not without fust sellin' him another for the same price as isn't vorth more nor half the money. An ' exchange is no robbery' all the vorld over." Here Mrs. Ginger, seeing her husband drew his breath with considerable difficulty, replenished his glass of brandy- and- water, and bogged him not to fatigue himself with talking, as Bill perfectly understood his master's mode of doing business, and would not fail to give Samyul the benefit of his instructions and experience. " It's no use talking to me, Mr-:, Ginger," replied the dying man ; " a vord from my mouth at sich a time must be vorth ail the sermons as Bill Spavin can spin arter I'm dead an' gone." At this declaration Samyul suffered his grief to find a vent at the port- hole of his phiz, and sent forth so dismal a yell that the soul of the departing Ginger had infallibly been frightened from its earthly tenement for ever, had not a seasonable sup of grog recalled it yet to animate for a short season its habitation of clay. And here, had we space, would we, of a surety, dilate upon the extraordinary virtues of eau- de- vie— rightly so named— in extending the span of our mortal existence; nor should we indeed hesitate to inflict an extra page on so interesting a topic upon our well- beloved editor, were we not painfully alive to the cruel incisions of his extir- pating scissors, well knowing him to bo a sort of male Atropos, who docks us of our fair proportions with as much nonchalance as any vile tonsor robs a beauteous maiden of her enehanting tresses for the purpose of working them up into a wig for some bald and antiquated dandy, upon whose cranium Macassar and Balm of Columbia are alike expended in vain. But to return to our story. The brandy having pro- duced its usual exhilarating effect—" mounted into tho brain, and dried ine there all tho crude and watery vapours which environed it," & c. & c.— Mr. Jonathan Ginger shortly after recovered sufficient wind and strength to pursue the thread of his admonitions in the following words:— " Ven a genleman comes into the yard and vants to look at a : oss, Samyul, take care an' never show him vun till you have learnt vot price he means to give. Then tell him you'll show him the best you've got, an' always be sure to begin with the vorst, by vich means you'll soon see if he knows vot he's about. If possible, always sell him a ' oss as you knows von't suit him. an' say, ' if he's not to your mind, sir, I'll change him for you with plea- sure'— laying a great stress on the pleasure, mind. This looks purlite, an' genlemen calls it handsome treatment. Ven the ' oss is sent back, it ' II be your own fault if you don't draw a little more money, an' chop for vun as arn't quite so good— an' so on as long as the flat ' 11 bite, you see!" " I will," said Samuel, " that I will"— a resolution which an approving nod of the hoad over the right shoulder from Bill Spavin showed that moat honest facto- tum to commend as extremely piaiseworthy, I'm a gettin' ookimmon faint- like," pursued Mr. Ginger, after a considerable pause, " an' the brandy- an'- vater somehow doesn't seem to do roe so much good as it always used todo. Howsomever, I've wery little more to say to you, Samyul, ' cept that if you does the best for yourself, an' tho vurst for your customers, you should aiway do so purlitely. It's vonderful vot a difference it makes in a man that you've got a trifle the best of, if, in- stead o' tellin' him ' you ha' got no remedy, and you may do your vorst,' you say, ' I'm wery sorry indeed, sir, wery sorry — couldn't ha' thought it—' oss fresh up from country— knowed very little on him— take the pick o' my stables, sir; or I'll buy you another,' an' so on. A gen- lemen as is a genleman then says to hisself, ' this ere's an honest man, an' no mistake— must ha' been taken in his- self— can behave handsome at any rate— I'll recommend him'— an'so you, instead perhaps o' gettin a copy of a writ, or summut o' the kind, vy you sells another ' oss, an' has a chance of another swap afore long.— Always recol- lect then, Sainyul, as ' civility costs nothing,' vich is about the best thing you can say of anything, an' much more than is to be said for most things in this vorld. " Bill, you'll take care an' see as Samyul latns all about Bishopin' an' Diamondin', an' makin' a ' oss as is lame o' vun leg go even on both— an' make him understand, Bill — oh ! dear, I feels wery faint— as all his ' osses is to be no more nor five or six years old at tho outside— an' that no lame ' oss has ever been so longer nor the last twice he vas shod— an' that—( oh, dear!) all roarers, an' pipers, an' vistlers, an' broken- vinded uns is in course short o' work, or too fat, or summit o' that kind— just had pail o' vator — oh ! dear!— you understand, Bill"— " Course, master, 1 do." " Ail' as all purblind ' osses has been kept in a dark stable— an' ciib- biters is all sure to be good uns— hot- tempered nns is qviet as lambs— and slugs get over more ground nor they seems to do, an' never vants no vip— Oh, dear I— oh ! Lord— oh ! oh I" Here the footsteps of some one mounting the stairs be- came distinctly audible, and the dying man motioned to Bill Spavin, who was standing near tha door, to see who was coming. Bill did as ha was bid, and presently ushered in thoCu- rate of the parish, who, having heard that Mr. Jonathan Ginger was in extremis, had come to render him that ghostly consolation of which ho feared that he stood ter- ribly in need. No sooner, however, had ha made known the object of his visit, than Mr. Ginger shook his head in a manner that clearly indicated his opinion that all spi- ritual aid came too late to be of service to him ; but shortly after, appearing animated with a new idea, he took the clergyman's hand, and faltered forth:— " Tell me, if you can, vether there's any ' osses in the next vorld, an' vether I shall forget ven I gets there all as I knows about ' em now, or be as up to trap as I am at this present moment ?" Having received an assurance that it was totally beyond the power of any person to answer his question, he ex- claimed— " Then God knows, if there ain't none, vot'U becomeo' me— howsomever, we all lives in hope, an' I may say dies in hope— an' it's a great consolation to me for to think I've employed ray last moments for the benefit o' my fa- mily, in tryin' to drive into Samyul there a notion o' the vay in vich he's to get an honest livelihood for hisself an' his mother an' sister, an' likevise become a hornament to his profession. " God bless you all!— I feels I'm goin' fast— my legs is cold as death, an' my eyes grows Jdim. Bill, take care o' the kickin' mare— she's a right good un, though a leetle vilfal like. You'll find my last will an' testament, Mrs. Ginger, at the bottom o' tho corn- bin in No. 5 stable, wropped up in a piece of a old ' oss- cloth— the key o' the padlock's in the seat o' the break, an' the key o' that again's in vun o' my old top boots— I don't know vich— let Bill have ' em ven I'm gone, an' also my leather breeches as I vore on Easter Monday. God bless you all again !— vere are you ?— I don't see you. Samyul, Sam- yul, take care o' your poor mother an'sister— an' remem- ber to lead a sober life. ... not more than a pint' o' gin an' two pots o' stout or so a day .... an' above all things, vonee more, don't part vith money ven you can help it .... nor be fond o' buyin' sound ' osses ven rum. uns ' II do ... . for, take my vord .... to make money .... in this vorld .... there's .... nothing like a . .. . good screw. Saying which words, the great Mr. Jonathan Ginger fell gently back on his pillow. We are truly happy to add, that since his demise, his son Samuel, under the ahle tuition of his foreman, Bill Spavin, bids fair to rival his defunct father in a know- ledge of all the mysteries of horse- craft; and, as we hear that he is paying his addresses to the daughter of a certain publican in his neighbourhood— in whose bar he spends a considerable portion of his time— it is to be hoped that the race of Ginger will be perpetuated ad infinitum, and that the " straight- forward principles of horse- dealing" — to use Mr. Gioger senior's words— may be handed down from father to son in as praiseworthy and manly a manner as we have had the honour of recording. For W. SPAVIN, ROBERT BIRCH, Schoolmaster, Parish Clerk, Registrar of Births, & e. THE EASTER HUNT. WE have received the following precious morceau from a young gentleman, whose name, out of pity to himself, we kindly suppress, merely stating that he is one of the blooming " assistants" at the drapery establishment of Rogers and Hitchcock, in St. Paul's- churchyard. Poor young man, we sincerely hope he did not hurt himself in the effort; here it is : — " DEAR EDITOR,— An havin' a bit of aknack at'poetry, as my Eliza says, send these loins, wrote ' em myself, and sung ' em at Tom Rousding's after the hunt. " Yours, ever, T G ." An— Some love to rove, % c, Some loves to ride in a von oss shay, Ven there's neither cloud nor shower; But an oss for me, on Easter day, To ride on an hunting tower ( tour). Yoix, yoix ! so, oh ! aint it sweet to go, Vile the reg'ler knackers lags, And vile ve vis ties the tally. ho'. To ride afore the stags Chorous of vistling. Oh! the vild var hoop of a " Lumber troop,'' Might the henemy afront; But give to me— if you wants a spree— The joys of an Easter hunt. Then the wenson fine, with sparkling wine, Right off we gaily toss ; Oh ! I feels quite up, as I drains this cup, To my noble hunting hoss. Grand chorous of vistling. We sincerely hope that the whole of the gentlemen of this establishment will forthwith enter into a subscription for some suitable testimonial of their admiration of the talents of this huckakack bard. Parr's Life Pills. N O medicine that has ever yet been offered to the public lias been attended with such marked success as PARll'S LIFE PILLS. To sportsmen in par- ticular, they have been found ex ceedingly useful; the balsamic and truly invigorating properties j of this medicine are never more clearly mauifest than when taken as a remedy for fatigue and de- bility. The sports of the field, to be enjoyed, must be pursued in health and vigour;— to excel, we must possess a cool head and quick perception, at all times de- pendent upon the state of the blood, and its regulator the digestive organs. To enumerate cases of cures now becomes unnecessary, as they pour in by thousands. The following, received from a most respectable gentleman, shall suffice at present Miraculous Cure from the use of Parr's Life Pills. Copy of a Letter just received by the Proprietor's from Mr. William Moat, 3, Cobbett Street, Shaw's Brow, Salford. " To the Proprietors of Parr's Life Pills. " GENTLEMF. N,— I have the utmost pleasure iu forwarding you this my own case of cure, effected solely by the persevering use of your PARR'S LIFE PILLS. Before having recourse to them, I had been lor upwards of five years afflicted with a most distressing malady, which tiie different eminent medical men who attended me all pro- nounced to be a serious case of hydrocele ( or dropsy of the scrotum), and declared there was no other chance of either relief or cure than undergoing a surgical operation. I was thus driven almost to de- spair;" and consulted the treatise written by Sir Astley Cooper, wherein he states that the operation is generally attended with con- siderable danger. I therefore detei mined not to risk so painful and uncertain an experiment, but rather chose to leave the result to nature and Providence. Fortunately, I heard of the great fame of PARR'S LIFE PILLS, and resolved to give them a fair trial. I consequently took them for some lime without perceiving any benefit, but still kept persevering ; and I have now taken twelve boxes, and to my great joy, I am peifeclly well; the dropsy is entirely removed, together wiili a scwrbutic affection, which I had been much troubled with since my return from India in 18* 27; and now there is not a vestige of disease left iu my whole system, as I am now in better health and spirits than I havejbeen for fourteen years. I feel certain you would have accounts of far more^ cures, if people would persevere in the use of the pills a proper length of time, as 1 have done. I give you my heart- felt thanks, and authority to publish this letter, and will gladly answer any applications either personally or by letter, and remain your grateful and obliged servant.- ( Signed) \ « Witness—- JOHN HOUGH, Cheadle, carrier. " Manchester, Feb. 7. 1842." CAUTION- BEWARE OF IMITATIONS. In order to protect the public from imitations, tlie Hon.; Commis- sionei- s of Stamps lmveordered the winds « PARKS LIKE PILLS," to be engraved en the Government Stamp, which ia pasted l- ouad tlie sides of each box, in WHITE letters on a MUD ground. Without this mark of authent city, they are spurious aud au imposition I Prepared only ly the Piopiietors, T. Roberts and Co., a, Crane- court, Fleet- street, London, mid sold wholesale by their uppoiutmeut, by E. Edwards, 07, St. Paul's; also by Barclays mid Sous, Fairing- ilon- street; aud SutUr. aud Co., Bow Churchyard i and retail by at least one a""'' iu every town iu the United Kingdom, aod. by most respectable dealers in medicine. Price la. lid., 2s. 9d., aud family boxes, lis. each. Kull directions are given with each box. GEATIS The Life aud Times of Old Parr, who lived to be 152 years of a- e, thirty- two pages, with flue engravings, anecdote, poetry, Sc., and Remarks on Disease, Health, aud the Means of Prolonging Life, may be hud gratis ot all agents for . the sale of PARK'S LIKE BILLS. LONDON 1— Printed by LIST aud ClAm, 3, Cra » . o « ttrt, Kle « t. street; » nd pnblishod by W. M. Cnax, 17. Wuwi « k- Uu « , Pater- UMlewtw " W. MOAT." V.