to me as possible; but, strange as it was, that bar got me used to it, before I was done with him; for he got so, at last, that he would leave me on a long chase quite easy. How he did it, I never could understand. That a bar runs at all, is puzzling; but how this one could tire down, and bust up a pack of hounds and a horse, that were used to overhauling everything they started after, in no time, was past my understanding. Well, stranger, that bar finally got so sassy, that he used to help himself to a hog off my premises whenever he wanted one; the buzzards followed after what he left, and so between bar and buzzard, I rather think I was out of pork. Well, missing that bar so often, took hold of my vitals, and I wasted away. The thing had been carried too far, and it reduced me in flesh faster than an ager. I would see that bar in everything I did,-he hunted me, and that, too, like a devil, which I began to think he was. While in this fix, I made preparations to give him a last brush, and be done with it. Having completed everything to my satisfaction, I started at sun-rise, and, to my great joy, I discovered from the way the dogs run, that they were near him-finding his trail was nothing, for that had become as plain to the pack as a turnpike-road. On we went, and coming to an open country, what should I see but the bar very leisurely ascending a hill, and the dogs close at his heels, either a match for him, this time, in speed, or else he did not care to get out of their way I don't know which. But, wasn't he a beauty though? I loved him like a brother. On he went, until coming to a tree, the limbs of which formed a crotch about six feet from the ground; into this crotch he got and seated himself; the dogs yelling all around it, and there he sat eyeing them, as quiet as a pond in low water. A green-horn friend of mine, in company, reached shooting distance before me, and blazed away, hitting the critter in the centre of his forehead. The bar shook his head as the ball struck it, and then he walked down from that tree as gently as a lady would from a carriage. 'Twas a beautiful sight to see him do that; he was in such a rage, that he seemed to be as little afraid of the dogs, as if they had been sucking pigs; and the dogs warn't slow in making a ring around him at a respectful distance, I tell you; even Bowie-knife himself stood off. Then the way his eyes flashed; why the fire of them would have singed a cat's hair; in fact, that bar was in a wrath all over. Only one pup came near him, and he was brushed out so totally with the bar's left paw, that he entirely disappeared; and that made the old dogs more cautious still. In the mean time, I came up, and taking deliberate aim as a man should do, at his side, just back of his foreleg, if my gun did not snap, call me a coward, and I won't take it personal. Yes, stranger, it snapped, and I could not find a cap about my person. While in this predicament, I turned round to my fool friend; says I, ' Bill,' says I, you're an ass, you're a fool; you might as well have tried to kill that bar by barking the tree under his belly, as to have done it by hitting him in the head. Your shot has made a tiger of him, and blast me, if a dog gets killed or wounded when they come to blows, I will stick my knife into your liver, I will my wrath was up. I had lost my caps, my gun had snapped, the fellow with me had fired at the bar's head, and I expected, every moment, to see him close in with the dogs, and kill a dozen of them at least. In this thing I was mistaken, for the bar

6

leaped over the ring formed by the dogs, and giving a fierce growl, was off; the pack, of course, in full cry after him. The run this time was short, for coming to the edge of a lake the varmint jumped in, and swam to a little island in the lake, which it reached just a moment before the dogs. I'll have him now, said I, for I had found my caps in the lining of my coat; so, rolling a log into the lake, I paddled myself across to the island, just as the dogs had cornered the bar in a thicket. I rushed up and fired; at the same time the critter leaped over the dogs and came within three feet of me, running like mad; he jumped into the lake, and tried to mount the log I had just deserted, but every time he get half his body on it, it would roll over and send him under; the dogs, too, got around him, and pulled him about, and, finally, Bowie-knife clenched with him, and they sunk into the lake together. Stranger, about this time I was excited, and I stripped off my coat, drew my knife, and intended to have taken a part with Bowie-knife myself, when the bar rose to the surface. But the varmint stayed under, Bowie-knife came up alone, more dead than alive, and with the pack came ashore. Thank God, said I, the old villain has got his deserts at last. Determined to have the body, I cut a grapevine for a rope, and dove down where I could see the bar in the water, fastened my queer rope to his leg, and fished him, with great difficulty, ashore. Stranger, may I be chawed to death by young alligators, if the thing I looked at wasn't a she-bar, and not the old critter after all. The way matters got mixed on that island was onaccountably curious, and thinking of it made me more than ever convinced that I was hunting the devil himself. I went home that night and took to my bed; the thing was killing me. The entire team of Arkansaw in bar-hunting, acknowledged himself used up, and the fact sunk into my feelings like a snagged boat will in the Mississippi. I grew as cross as a bar with two cubs and a sore tail. The thing got out 'mong my neighbours, and I was asked how come on that individ-u-al that never lost a bar when once started? and if that same individ-u-al didn't wear telescopes when he turned a she-bar, of ordinary size, into an old he one, a little larger than a horse? Prehaps, said I, friends, getting wrathy, prehaps you want to call somebody a liar. Oh! no, said they, we only heard such things as being rather common of late, but we don't believe one word of it; oh! no- -and then they would ride off and laugh like so many hyænas over a dead nigger. It was too much, and I determined to catch that bar, go to Texas, or die; and I made my preparations accordin.' I had the pack shut up and rested. I took my rifle to pieces, and iled it. I put caps in every pocket about my person, for fear of the lining. I then told my neighbours that on Monday morning, naming the day, I would start THAT BAR, and bring him home with me, or they might divide my settlement among them, the owner having disappeared. Well, stranger, on the morning previous to the great day of my hunting expedition, I went into the woods near my house, taking my gun and Bowie-knife along, just from habit, and there sitting down, also, from habit, what should I see, getting over my fence, but the bar! Yes, the old varmint was within a hundred yards of me, and the way he walked over that fencestranger, he loomed up like a black mist, he seemed so large, and he walked right towards me. I raised myself, took deliberate aim, and

fired. Instantly the varmint wheeled, gave a yell, and walked through the fence like a falling tree would through a cobweb. I started after, but was tripped up by my inexpressibles, which, either from habit, or the excitement of the moment, were about my heels, and before I had really gathered myself up, I heard the old varmint groaning in a thicket near by, like a thousand sinners, and by the time I reached him he was a corpse. Stranger, it took five niggers and myself to put that carcass on a mule's back, and old long ears waddled under his load, as if he was foundered in every leg of his body, and with a common whopper of a bar, he would have trotted off, and enjoyed himself. "Twould astonish you to know how big he was, I made a bed spread of his skin, and the way it used to cover my bar mattrass, and leave several feet on each side to tuck up, would have delighted you. It was, in fact, a creation bar, and if it had lived in Sampson's time, and had met him, in a fair fight, it would have licked him in the twinkling of a dice-box. But, stranger, I never liked the way I hunted him, and missed him. There is something curious about it, I could never understand, and I never was satisfied at his giving in so easy at last. Prehaps, he had heard of my preparations to hunt him the next day, so he jist come in, like Captain Scott's coon, to save his wind to grunt with in dying; but that aint likely. My private opinion is, that that bar was an unhuntable bar, and died when his time come."

NEWMARKET JULY MEETING.

BY THE EDITOR.

A GOOD many discussions have lately found their way into print, upon the policy of continuing or abolishing certain meetings at Newmarket. It may not be out of place to say a few words on the question here, the more that the actual business of our paper is too meagre to help us to a decent-looking article without some extraneous aid. The objection urged against the continuance of the Second Spring and First October Meetings, is the insignificant character of their sport and attendance. The argument, in this case, is started upon false premises. Racing, here, is not confined to the object with which it is pursued elsewhere. At Epsom, Ascot, Goodwood, and similar places, the turf is regarded solely as an instrument whereby popular amusement and local gain is effected. The inhabitants bestir themselves to give éclat and sinews to their races, and the whole affair is patronised and promoted by the leading families of the respective districts. At Newmarket racing is not, nor is it even assumed to be, a public concern. Nearly as much money was given to be run for on one day of this spring, at the Hippodrome, as there in the seven meetings which constituted the past season. A much larger amount, indeed, was added to one stake, at the "cockney meeting," than was offered for competition during the three days of the last Second Spring.

But what has that to do with the merits of the question as to curtailing the meetings at the metropolis of the turf? Is it desired to concentrate the sport for the purpose of securing a crowd? The absence of the turmoil, mob, and riotous pleasure, common to all other courses, constitute the chief charm and main attraction here, where, to the letter,

"All is gentle and aristocratic."

The design upon which Heaton Park, Goodwood, and Gorhambury were modelled, is alone to be seen carried into effect at Newmarket. Its heath is virtually, though not ostensibly, a private course. A body of gentlemen hire and preserve it at a large outlay. It is their trainingground, and the scene of their private and public trials; for, with hardly any exception, its business is relative. The Two Thousand Guineas Stakes is the great south country trial for the Derby; the One Thousand for the Oaks. Would a spring or autumn morning possess additional zest on the Warren Hill, if it were peopled like Greenwich Fair at Easter or Whitsuntide? Should we seek the flat with a greater relish, if assured of finding it occupied like Ascot Heath, or Moulsey Hurst, on "the Cup Day?" I am one of those by no means desirous of improving, by any agglomerating experiment, the present condition of racing at Newmarket. When the outcry about Catholic emancipation was at the highest, I happened to dine with a blazing Armagh Orangeman, who occupied one of the houses of Cornwall Terrace, in the Regent's Park. The serious affair of the repast was over, and we sat at our desert while the setting sun poured its softened light through the painted windows, and the melody of a distant band fell soothingly upon the ear. "Come," said my host, shoving over a crystal jug of Carbonel's 1822 Lafitte, "fill your glass; here's THE GLORIOUS MEMORY!' I should like to know what the Pope, and the devil, and the Papists are crying out for? What do the d-d craw-thumping vagabonds want? I say what do they want? pray aint we very well as we are?" To the reformers of Newmarket I as emphatically declare "we are very well as we are."

Tuesday the 6th ult. opened on the July Meeting in no smiling mood; neither was there a moral excitement to make up for the lack of movement in the physique. There was no disposition to bet. Unless things alter greatly, the trade of book-making is at an end, and gentlemen who have not as much available capital as would purchase a dinner of cow-heel, in future, must not expect to win twenty thousand pounds upon a well-managed Derby. The first race was a 20 sovs. Handicap, which brought our half-a-dozen; and as 6 to 1 was the highest odds asked, the industrious had the chance of a turn. Abydos won it by a neck; if he could have beaten The Nob, at Ascot, by half as much, it would have been a better omen. Just now, Lord Exeter's net can catch only little fishes. The July Stakes followed, and also brought to the post a field of six, with but slack betting; Lord Bruce's Rosalie colt the second, being backed to win at 6 to 4 and 11 to 8. The first heat was dead, between the favourite and Col. Peel's colt, by The Colonel, out of Hester; and the second the latter won almost in a canter by a length. The pace was good and the tailing great for the distance. In my opinion, the winner is likely to make a racer in every

way superior to Lord Bruce's colt, whose very denomination shakes one's faith in him. Lord Exeter's was at the extreme tip of the tail; a sad falling off in the quondam flying stable. It was publicly stated that the winner was below the mark; should he come out all right, he will take some beating.

The engrossing affair of Wednesday was the sale, by auction, of Mr. Ford's racing-stock, for which no buyers were to be had; and, of William Chifney's house and offices, of which Mr. Connop, the proprietor of the Hippodrome, was the purchaser, for the sum of £ 4,000. The weather was indifferent, and the racing neither good nor important. A 10 sovs. Sweepstakes was won by Mr. Stevenson's Blanche at 3 to 1 against her; Joujou, backed at 6 to 4, being a little sop for the fielders. Here, again, Lord Exeter ran a shocking bad last. Fifty Pounds, for all above two years old, found five of some character to start; Bob Peel and E. O. having the finish wholly to themselves, the former winning by half a length. The latter was backed against the field; so that the working class put in a good day. Lord Exeter ran last with Rodosto; the sporting marquis throwing crabs for both races.

Thursday. This morning Mr. Tattersall wielded an ineffective hammer over Lord Lichfield's stud. A lot or so were sold (proh pudor); for example, Zillah, stinted to Economist, for twenty-two guineas. Colonel White's Derby nag, Lampos, fetched 95 guineas; so that between forfeits and performances, et cetera, he must have been about as bad a bargain as ever found its way in the gallant officer's family. I ought to have said that, yesterday, Captain Byng was elected a steward of the Jockey Club, vice Captain Rous, whose period of office had expired. The day's list was a fair one, containing four races for decision: the first of which was a Handicap Sweepstakes, won by a colt, by Bentley, out of Emma, a very spirited affair. Old Scroggins was defeated only by a neck; the hill (the finish being the winning post of the new T. Y● C.) and the lump of weight putting his ancient nose out of joint. It was an awful thing to see James Robinson on Spangle, beaten like sticks, and the shine so emphatically taken out of him. For the Chesterfield Stakes seven went, brother to Vulture being drawn after his jockey weighed. The Rosalie colt, here, was backed at two to one on him: a point less being eagerly taken, malgre his 4 lb. extra for losing the July Stakes. It was a splendid race between the winner, Passion; Mr. Wilson's colt, by Voltaire, out of Yorkshire lass; and the favourite, who was a neck behind the second. The winner is in the Derby Oaks, and Leger, for 1842, and ought to pay Isaac Sadler a handsome discount for the risk and trouble of bringing her to the post: the speed was very good. The Town Plate of £50 (with Perram's unclaimed Hymeneal bonus added) was won by Mr. Batson's Barbara, after a middling race, in which the winner waited and played with it at her pleasure. E. O. was backed against the field, and ran last, or thereabouts, so that the shabbies triumphed once again. The last race of the meeting, and by no means the least in interest, was for a 10 sovs. Sweepstakes; two-year-olds, 6st. 11lb.; three, 9 st. This Colonel Peel's Leger colt, Hawk's-eye, brother to Vulture, won in a canter; beating his field from the first stride; and at the end running away from them either he is better