or rural thoughts, or sporting predilections, the moment you are closely shut in the embraces of a railway carriage. There you are at once made sensible of the realities of life; business, money-taking, order, promptness-with an occasional unexpected, but exterminating, smash-reminding you, if you have time to think, that you are living flesh and blood, born to struggle, and to reason, and to care. Public marts, premiums, discounts, and disasters, form the topic of most men's conversation whom you therein meet; and the Times newspaper left on the seat, or even a forgotten Punch, which has served to while away in laughter the traveller's hour, has been neglected in the loud call of the porter that you have arrived at your destination. All these little matters, trifling though they be, remind you sufficiently that there is a busy, guilty, hard, selfish world beyond the woodlands, where the skylark sings no more with its accustomed merry notes, and the sportsman loves not to dwell. The shrill whistle, however, proclaims the starting, and we are off from scenes so fair, so lovely. A whiz, a splutter, a groan, and sundry puffs; now through the bowels of the earth, now across the grassy plains, swift as an arrow. The hour of locomotion is passed. "6 Any one for Bristol?" is uttered by many a tongue. "Your ticket, sir; we are there." In fact, a journey by an express train is comprised in a whistle, a puff, and an arrival. From railway train to jolting bus-for such carriages were invented solely for the dislocation of limbs for sixpence-if ye be a bachelor and have no awaiting one-horse Brougham, is as natural a consequence as the change of seasons; so into one we straightway conveyed ourselves, for baggage we had none, and for the usual slight outlay we resigned ourselves to the infliction of broken shins and intolerable bumpings till we were once more relieved from the menagerie at the portal of our humble domicile, but still our home; and be it ever so humble, there is nothing like it. There stands your accustomed arm chair; in sickness or in sorrow, in gladness, summer's warmth or winter's cold, your tried friend, ever ready to stretch forth its arms, and receive you softly and kindly. Look around at your pet conveniences; are they not all steady friends, who contribute to your comforts and happiness? And not so humble after all was ours, at least, for those who can put up with the conveniences of life. On our table stood a well-filled Dresden vase of fresh summer flowers, reminding us still of the country, still more so of the kind thought which had catered for our tastes; and a portrait of two loved and favourite spaniels, from the clever pencil of Shayer, which hung above our bookcase, told to memory many a tale of flood and field. While the rough, though pleasing, welcome of a noble deerhound, and, in his peculiar way, the not less affectionate greeting of our favourite tom-cat Toots, at all events assured us that wherever we might roam, we had friends sincere and true to welcome our return.

We can boast of another friend, and a true one, though not of the brute creation. Forsooth neither is he dumb; but of late we find him somewhat proud withal, since by royal command her Majesty's bold Dragoons have been ordered to renounce the use of razors. In days lang syne, when we went campaigning, he was wont to be one of the best sportsmen and most agreeable of companions a man could desire to walk o'er hill and dale with; and the day of sport

and pleasure being passed, few like him could discuss the deeds of death and capture with more humour and enjoyment at the social board. He is, for aught we know to the contrary, the same laughterloving being now, though years and different pursuits have severed us; and his aim may be no less true, or his heart less warm. It has been hinted to us, however, that the moustache and a command of horse have somewhat sobered the merry disposition and exalted the pride. Be it so; we can readily forgive such trifling faults in one whose nature overflows with good qualities, one of which was his untiring patience and contentment under all circumstances as in all positions of life. And if he fail in the pride of place, surely 'tis but a trifling error, to which weak human nature is alas! but too prone. For instance, it was only yesterday we were taking our accustomed constitutional stroll along the sunny side of one of the many beautiful malls with which the lovely locality of our present home abounds, when we were witness to two scenes so simple, yet so striking, in their lesson to frail humanity, that we crave leave to insert them here precisely as we heard them. It may be strange that one should hear two such evidences in one and the same day, and that at no great distance of time or place; they are, nevertheless, perfectly true. The first is a striking picture of the nation of the actors; and, therefore, more graphic. On the steps of a house, on which the rays of the sun reflected their comfortable warmth, sat a neatly dressed, yet poor, Irish woman with a basket of pears and apples, which she tendered for sale to the passers-by; at the moment of our approach she appeared to be admonishing an aged country woman, the angry tones of whose replies attracted our attention. "By my faith, then," said she, "I'll not be after spaking to you at all, at all; because when I called to you the other day, you were proud, you were; and would not notice the like of me, Sally Maunly. For its fine you grow of late, becase you keeps a donkey; I trust you'll kape it for iver, my fine lady." And she walked off, uttering words unpleasing to ears polite. Here was human nature only one step lower, from a regiment of horse to a basket of apples and a donkey. The donkey, poor animal, little knew its power of severing friendship; faith, what an embarrass des richesses was that of the poor fruit-seller! We walked on laughing inwardly, yet moralizing on human events, when, ascending a small hill, we met the carriage of the mayor; horses and servants were bedecked with the usual trappings and tinsel of their owner's office, and the civic functionary in equal pride of place sat, though not on the cold portal steps, but on well-stuffed cushions. We turned to look, not at the mayor or the three-cornered hats of the servants, but at his worship's horses, which appeared better than those usually seen in such annual equipages; when, as if it were fated that our walk should be more than usually diversified by lessons not to be forgotten, we observed two masons, who were busily employed in their plastering avocations, cease from their labours, and having intently gazed at the gorgeous apparition which slowly trotted down the road, in evident admiration of the coach, if not of its contents, the one exclaimed, "That's mighty fine, aint it, Bill?" "Yes," replied his companion, resting on his hod: "I would not wish to be a laird mare anyhow; them there fellows has just time to larn their sitiva

tions, and how to ride in the city coach, when they're turned out of it." These are every-day lessons-not from the pen, but the lips of man are they taken-in fact, from real life.

But to resume our subject. Well do we recollect our gallant friend's, the dragoon's, constant assertion, that of all the lodgings for comfort and freedom, there were none to equal a shooting box on the hills or a barrack-room; indeed the latter, as to freedom, for choice, said he : for you have only to add a comfortable arm chair and a camp-bed to the furniture graciously provided by her Majesty, i. e., a coal-box, a table, and two chairs, all marked with the broad arrow, and there you are as merry as may be. We must admit the truth of his assertion, for, if prepared to pay the damages, you may use your poker or a pistol to reek your restlessness on door or walls, if you cannot get leave to fly away on a sporting trip.

The comparative luxury by which we were surrounded did not, however, admit of our resorting to such practical measures to scare away the restless feelings engendered by our recent trip to the woodlands; we therefore decided once more to become a wanderer, and with this intent prepared our light baggage with the full determination of visiting several of the charming fishing rivers and other sporting quarters in the lovely land of Devon, with the double desire of a better acquaintance with the romantic nooks and peaceful hamlets on that southern coast, and not the less of testing the truth of that we had long believed as fact-that the county, which in size is placed as the third in the land we live in, is in nature's abundant beauties decidedly the first. And although not precisely that portion of our glorious island we, or any other sporting man, would select as the chosen spot for the resting of his hunting stud, if hunting be his sole object, it nevertheless offers, as a whole, combined advantages which few other counties in England can boast of. To sweet, hospitable, friendly Devon, then, we are off. A fishing-rod is numbered among our belongings, not that we presume to a first-rate knowledge of the gentle art, or the power to cast the fly with the hand of skill; indeed, were we to trust our own prowess in the Waltonian art, or for the trout we might kill even in the best streams for our evening meal, we should often go supperless to bed. Indeed our pleasure in this sport has never become a passion.

"Yet when we please to walk abroad

For our recreation

In the fields is our abode

Full of delectation

When in a brook

With a hook,

Or a lake,

Fish we take,

There we sit

For a bit

Till we fish entangle."

ANONYMOUS.

SPORTING INCIDENTS AT HOME AND ABROAD.

(From the MS. Life of the Hon. Percy Hamilton.)

COMMUNICATED TO AND EDITED BY LORD WILLIAM LENNOX.

CHAPTER IX.

"This day a stag must die."-HUNTING SONG.

Epping Hunt-Appearance of the Mysterious Dealer in Great Dean's Yard-The Meet-"We met: 'twas in a Crowd"-The uncarted Hind-"She wore a Wreath of Roses"-Hair-breadth 'Scapes and moving Accidents by Flood and Field."

The day but one previous to that upon which we were (as we thought) to surprise the weak minds of the cockney sportsmen, duly arrived; and as we were sauntering in the cloisters, talking rather largely how we should "cut down" all the field, "set" them at the first rasper, and "floor" them in the brook, when a "fag" from Packharness's made his appearance, and told us that a gentleman of the name of Smithet wished to see us immediately.

"What can Sam Smithet want?" ejaculated Kirkonnel.

"There's a screw loose, I fear," rejoined Fred Harewood; for be it known to our readers that Smithet was the name of the dealer already referred to.

We hurried off to our dames, where, to our great horror, we saw a large bevy of urchins assembled round, and gazing at the new comer, who was in close conference with our Cerberus "Dick;" and as we approached nearer, we caught a glimpse of Dr. Dodd's " spectacles" peering through the blinds, and saw the long attenuated neck of the housekeeper Jane, and the plumper one of her attending maidof-all-work, stretched forth to get a view of our visitor. Nor could we wonder at the sensation that had been created when we looked at the figure before us. Mr. Smithet was a short, thick, stout, punchy, fat man, with a purple pimpled countenance, and a Bardolph-looking nose. His costume was not at all calculated to hide the defects of his person, for it consisted of a bright grass-green cut-away coat, with shining brass buttons, canary-and-black striped waistcoat, doubleribbed white cord inexpressibles, which came down to and covered the calves of his diminutive legs, and which were met by a pair of mahogany coloured top-boots, wrinkled to the ankles, and leaving a large hiatus. A quantity of white knee-ribands flaunted gracefully by the side of his short but sturdy supporters. A low-crowned broad-brimmed white hat contrasted greatly with his fiery visage, and a light blue spotted silk neckcloth, commonly called a bird's-eye pattern, completed his attire. As our friend Mr. Smithet had made the best of his way from Park-lane to Dean's Yard, to catch us be

fore"lock-up" hours, he was, to adopt a foreign phrase, in a great "transpiration"—for perspiration is English and vulgar. He was therefore "mopping," or, as the sailors say, "swabbing" his face and forehead with an orange-coloured Bandana, panting and blowing like a broken-winded posthorse after a fourteen-mile job. "Sly Sam," so the dealer was familiarly called, not wishing the object of his errand to be known, had inquired of the porter at Mother Pack's where his young friends, Lord Kirkonnel and the Honourable Percy Hamilton were to be found. This had caused a great suspicion in the mind of the afore-mentioned Dick, who, albeit accustomed to see various grades of visitors in the persons of country gentlemen, London bucks, lawyers, apothecaries, butlers, stewards, and tutors, had never before opened the door to such a being as the one who had claimed fellowship with two scions of the proud aristocracy. "It must be a bailiff; but then what can he want?" thought Dick: "I'll get rid of him at all events;" and he was actually assuring the intruder that we were away for the holidays, when we made our appearance, thoroughly ashamed at the appearance of our fat friend.

"Your servant, Master Percy!" said Mr. Smithet, taking off his hat respectfully. "I left your worthy father quite well only a few days ago; he desired me to call about the pony I sold him for you." This latter remark the wary dealer delivered with such emphasis that it reached the all-attentive ears of " Dick," who lost no time in communicating to our dame, tutor, housekeeper, and the subordinates, that the mysterious stranger was no less a personage than a country horsedealer, and no friend whatever of the young gentlemen's. Dick's pride had been considerably wounded at the idea that any of his boys (as he called us) should be accused of keeping such low company, and was delighted at having an opportunity of rescuing our characters from such infamy. No sooner was the station of our visitor known, than all wonder ceased, and we were permitted to hold our conversation with him without fear of interruption.

"What I really had to say was this," remarked Mr. Smithet sotto voce, as he looked round to see whether any one was within ear-shot. "All right!" responded Kirkonnel, as we drew the dealer from the crowd towards a quiet spot in the yard.

"You see, young gentlemen"-we were all attention-"I hears from my ostler Jem Šarrell, that you are real good 'uns to go, and that nothing whatsumever stops you."

Kirkonnel and Fred Harewood exchanged looks of satisfaction, while I strutted prouder than any bird of Juno that ever graced Grecian mythology, or lived in modern times.

"Jem says and there arn't no better judge nor Jem-that you'd take the shine out of 'em at Melton."

Here we got so inwardly elated, that to adopt a high-flown phrase, (not our own, we beg to declare), we "rollicked upon the billows of our own self-sufficiency." Mr. Smithet then proceeded to inform us that as he wished his horses to do justice to the wonderful prowess of their riders, he proposed to send them on over night, at his own expense, to the Bald-faced Stag, Epping, there to await us fresh on the Monday morning.

"How handsome!" we simultaneously exclaimed; "but we can't