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Knight of St. George, had the best by a head. The winner ran as Mr. Morris's; Boiardo and Autocrat broke down; not one of the anticipatory winners was placed. The four placed were thus ridden : -Knight of St. George, Basham; Ivan, Ashmall; Arthur Wellesley, Prince; Scythian, Wells.
"When sorrows come, they come not single spies;
But in battalions."
Her Majesty's Plate of One Hundred Guineas-Kingston, 3 to 1 on him, won by twenty lengths; Reveillée second, beating El Dorado by about the same distance. The Municipal Stakes of £200 each, for two-year-olds; Red House in, seven Subscribers, Lord Derby's De Clare, 3 to 1 against him, won easily by two lengths; Gretna second, 4 to 1 against her. The Corporation Plate of £100, added to a Handicap Stakes of £10 each, 44 subscribers, Eva favourite, at 2 to 1 against her, won by two lengths, beating six.
Thursday had a list of seven races, but none of them worth any reference, save the Eglinton Stakes, for which Dervish was beaten by The Chicken....Friday, the last of the meeting, began with a Match for £500 a side, between Lord Derby's two-year-old filly, sire Melbourne, dam Meanee, and Lord Glasgow's Miss Whip filly. 7 to 4 on the latter. Won by the Meanee filly by six lengths, in a canter. This was followed by a Sweepstakes of £200 each, h. ft., for three-year-olds; eighty Subscribers. Walked over for by Mr. Howard's Apollonius. The Park Hill Stakes of £50 each, for three-year-olds, thirty-one Subscribers, Honeysuckle-7 to 2 against her-won easily by a length and a half, beating five others. The Don of £50 each, h. ft., for three-year-olds, seven subscribers, Andover-5 to 2 on him -won in Match with Hospodar, by a neck. The Town Plate Handicap of £70, for all ages above two years old, Sir Rowland Trenchard won by a length and a half. The Doncaster Stakes of £10 each, with £100 added, for three-year-olds, one hundred and sixteen Subscribers, was run for by eight, three of them placed. Betting: 2 to 1 against Ivan, 5 to 2 against Acrobat, and 4 to 1 against Scythian. Acrobat won cleverly by a length; and as he returned to "weigh in," there arose one of the most ruffianly riots I ever witnessed at a Race Course. Had it not been for two or three men with hearts and hands, not to be resisted, John Scott, whom all who know him esteem and value highly, might have fallen a victim to their villany. "Dis aliter visum est." As soon as order was restored, preparations for "The Doncaster Cup" commenced. Its conditions are value £300, for all ages above two years old. Several Nominations had been struck out on the preceding night. It was run a Match between Virago and Kingston; 15 to 1 on the filly. She led from end to end, and finished first by twenty lengths. The Nursery Plate of £100, for two-year-olds; any number of horses the property of the same person may start for this race; Last Mile. Amy, with 5 to 1 against her, won by half-a-length, in a field of twelve inclusive. The Bawtry Stakes of £5 each, with £25 added, for all ages, six Subscribers, all at the Post, Mr. Thomas Parr's Rabgill won, with 6 to 4 against him. A Match for £100, h. ft., being walked over for by Ruby, the meeting was brought to a close...
All that in any degree bears upon the purpose of this article has
been said. The October and Houghton Meetings call for no more notice than the passing reference with which they are wound up. Here, then, I set my pen upon my sheet, with this reading of the Review, which I submit simply as a suggestion-that in the extraordinary contrasts, the mistaken conclusions, the peerless performances, and the mistaken anticipations of its two-year-olds, for the coming Derby, it is a season without parallel within modern memory. Three out of the four of my instances are notorious: for what the fourth may produce, in the words of Alexandre Dumas, I
WAIT AND HOPE.
ENGRAVED BY E. HACKER, FROM A PAINTING BY A. COOPER, R.A,
The "fox-hunting of shooting," as Colonel Hawker so happily terms it-the "Mark cock!" the very "Tally-ho!" and "Gone away!" that puts the whole cover in a state of excitement which nothing but the sight of a fox or a cock could accomplish.
Let us turn to the Colonel, again, as the best authority we could consult, and borrow a word or two apropos, from that latest edition we had to recommend in only our last number. Here we have it
apropos enough:-"The pursuit of wood-cocks with good spaniels may be termed the fox-hunting of shooting.' A real good sportsman feels more gratified by killing a wood-cock, or even a few snipes, than bags full of game, that have been reared on his own or neighbour's estate; and one who does not may be considered a pot-hunter. In a country where cocks are scarce, be sure and put a marker in a tree, before you attempt to flush one a second time; and when you have marked down a cock, remember how very apt he is to run, instead of rising from the spot in which you may have seen him drop. If a cock flies away, and continues to rise wild, go safely beyond where he may have last dropped, and then back again to beat for him, (leaving some one to make a noise on the side where you had before advanced on him), and he will then most likely either lie close, or fly towards you. If this will not do, take your station quietly to windward (as cocks generally fly against the wind), give a whistle when you are ready, and let the other person then draw on, and flush him. His cry of Mark!' will assist in frightening and driving the cock forward, and be a signal for your preparation.'
Fox-hunting all over, even to the very terms of describing it. The other one drawing on to and finding him-the useful cheer he is allowed to give on getting a view, all lend a wild stirring character to cock shooting that our home-bred varieties can never put a claim to.
SKETCHES IN SCARLET.
BY GREY BEARD.
"Nimium ne crede colori."
The fine horseman is, perhaps, the most disappointing of all those whom we are fain to watch with admiration, and from whose practice in riding over a country we hope to gain many a useful lesson and valuable wrinkle. He is easily distinguishable from the first moment we set eyes on him, by the beauty of his horse, the good taste of his appointments, and, above all, his extremely graceful and easy seat. He jumps an awkward "double" into the covert, and his hands never stir from his horse's withers; the animal itself putting its feet in the exact spot intended by its rider, and alighting just where he means, short of a blind, grass-grown ditch and under a tree. He opens the hand-gate for us to emerge at the further end, and even in this trifling action we recognize the masterly equestrian. We often think there are few higher trials of what we should call riding-school horsemanship, than opening a gate. He does it so politely too! for no man, whatever be his station, ever becomes a really fine horseman, without attaining, at the same time, a certain gentlemanlike delicacy of manPerhaps the constant habit of controlling his own temper, and adapting himself to that of others (animals though they be), may have this polishing effect on the human organization; but whatever be the cause, we fearlessly challenge denial as to the effect. We watch "the fine horseman" all the way to the next draw, and we confess to experiencing great gratification in the sight. How delicately he handles his horse at his leaps! how he makes him "take off" (that most important consideration) at the right spot! with what strength he holds him up to the very last stride, grasping him between his legs as if in a vice! what liberty he gives him during his effort, and how ready he is for him again when he lights in the next field; his hind-legs under him, his nose tucked nicely in, playing with his bit, and champing at it, till he froths, from mere pleasure at being so exquisitely handled! Then his canter across ridge and furrow is a master-piece of itself: standing well up over the withers, he steadies his horse with one hand, so as to yield the greatest possible amount of play in his own back and loins (nothing is more distressing to a horse than a "twelve thousand a-year" seat, as Mr. Jorrocks calls it, rolling and bucketing backwards and forwards over uneven ground), and makes him skim from ridge to ridge, smooth and easy as a bird upon the wing. See him waiting for his turn at a gap or narrow gateway; no swearing, or shoving, or "who-hoaing," or begging this man's pardon whilst