4

"

Our next river was Dovey, which runs close to the inn, and from thence to the sea is scrupulously guarded by a club of anglers, styled the Dovey Fishing Association. From them, strangers desirous of wetting a line there, must procure a ticket of leave, which, however, can be easily arranged with the host of the Cross Foxes, by dropping into the treasury three-and-sixpence per man per diem, ten shillings per week, &e. Keepers are appointed, who, if they do their duty,* should watch the stream and its tributaries day and night, so that during spring and autumn, Dovey is no bad sporting station.

A brilliant, and, of course, a very unfavourable morning for fishing, reconciled us to the confinement of an inn parlour while preparing our tackle, against the sun should skulk behind a cloud. Those slender footlinks, which had hitherto sufficed for Montgomeryshire trout rivers, were now exchanged for the thinner sort of salmon gut. Every knot, every link, was carefully scrutinized; it is only fair though to wet before straining them, as the best gut if dry won't stand it. When we had selected three footlengths of approved substance, the next business was to prepare a set of flies for each, adapted for large river as well as sea trout. The sort found to answer admirably in all streams where I have angled for sewin, is easily arranged. Should the water be clearing after a flood, loop on a coch-y-bonddhu for a point fly, tied upon No. 5 hook; dropper, a light-blue hackle, tinged with red or copper colour on the edges-(a most valuable but rare feather)-twisted thrice round the top of the shank. Make a body below, of pale-orange Berlin wool, darkened with a little hares'-ear fur; rib with gold thread. Should the water be bank-high, wing your fly with grouse, gallino, or mallard's brown feather. A grouse wing, orange body, and gold tip, will furnish a second dropper if desirable, and do your business well.

About four o'clock, clouds came over the sun, and dropped a warm, drizzling rain. Not a moment was to be lost. We got down to one of Dovey's best streams-a stretch of gravel about a quarter of a mile in length. The trunk of an old tree lay about midway across. From and behind this holt I soon had a fellow two pounds and a-half in weight, that brought up my line as taut as a hawser, until the water-drops spun from it. He then commenced the usual gambols of leaping twice or thrice, yard high from the water, and concluded by running in at me as though desirous of landing himself. But this manœuvre to break away with a slack line availed nothing here; it was so easy to retreat backwards upon the hard shingle, and no tree or shrub grew within a hundred paces; so I killed and basketed him. In the course of passing down

*The reader may perhaps consider that they sometimes exceed it, when he sees the following report of a recent law case. At a petty sessions held in Machynlleth, in September of the present year, Mr. John Gwyne, a gentleman farmer, was charged with fishing in the river Dovey, otherwise than by angling. The facts of this extraordinary case are these: A gentleman named Rutherford, who lodges with defendant, and who takes out a fishing ticket, went out to fish, and defendant accompanied him. A very large salmon was hooked, broke the line, and escaped. Presently, he spied it dead some distance lower down the river. The defendant went across to bring it over, and at defendant's request, he hooked, and hauled it across with the reel. There was also another small fish dead close by, which defendant took out and threw it on the grass, and which was taken away by another farmer. All this was seen by the watcher, and most of it proved by him to others. In the opinion of the magistrates, it amounted to illegal fishing, and the defendant had to pay the fine and costs. Sharp practice this!

about two miles of water, we took ten pounds of fish more, viz., four sewin and three common trout.

Sewin far surpass even salmon in flavour, and differ from them in various respects. The head is shorter and more sloping; the lower jaw projects beyond the upper. On its back the sewin appears of a pale-greyish colour, glossed with blue. Underneath, the belly is of bright silver, marked with dusky-purple cruciform spots. The flesh, when cooked, is of a pale-reddish tinge, paler than that of its cousingerman, the salmon.

In April and May, sewin commence running up from the sea; but after the heavy August floods they most abound. Early morning, and in the evening after sunset, are the best times to seek them. Warm showers also promote the angler's success; and in such weather he should not be absent from Dovey. Sound tackle and a multiplying reel are indispensable, for sewin come to the hook of all sizes, from eight ounces to eight pounds. The heaviest of those taken by us during the five days we continued in the vicinity of Mallwyd had a salmon-mort fly in his jaw, and a large grouse hackle in his tail. He had been hooked fairly by the one, and foully by the other; but broke all away, pursued, I'll warrant, by the curses of his captor, "not loud, but deep."

"Swear not, angler!" saith Izaak Walton, " or you'll frighten the fish."

On one or two of our daily excursions, we descended as low as Machynlleth. There is good fishing, and very good inns in that neighbourhood, particularly the Penniarth Arms, whose landlord is named Lloyd.

On the last morning of our stay at Dovey, the weather was warm and cloudy, with a stiff breeze. About one o'clock, however, the wind died away, and the sun bursting forth, drove all sizeable fish into cover. Not desirous of returning home, and observing prodigous numbers of samlets upon the shallows, we removed our large flies, substituting three of a smaller-kind adapted for trout. In one thing, however, we were defective-a maggot on the point of each hook; to which piece of epicurism these samlets greedily incline. Fortunately, about a quarter of a mile up stream a drowned sheep had interposed

"His slovenly unhandsome corse

Betwixt the wind and our nobility."

Thither we repaired, and easily filled a tin bait-box from the myriad population teeming there., Thus provided, we fell to work with great success. To wade into the sharps and shallows, and let the flies sink deeper than is usual when trout fishing, will insure certain sport. They are taken two or three at once, and should be whipped out directly; for, being small and light, they quickly wriggle off. Behind great stones, and at the head or break of the stream, are the favourite haunts, We returned in the evening with ten dozen of this pigmy game.

50

TURF PENCILLINGS.

BY THE DRUID.

"A hound and a hawk no longer

Shall be symptoms of disaffection;

A cock-fight shall cease to be breach of the peace,

And a horse-race an insurrection."

SONG OF THE CAVALIERS.

"I am a friend, Sir, to public amusements; for they keep people from vice."DR. JOHNSON TO SIR ADAM FERGUSON.

Ascot Races, &c.-Teddington v. Stockwell-A Ruby on dit.-The St. Leger.

There are few things that we enjoy more than a walk to Ascot through Windsor Park; and what is more, there is no singularity in this confession of faith. Hundreds of others, if the day be fine, share it with us; and we never look at the jolly groups, stretched full length under the oaks, and enjoying their luncheons al fresco, without thinking of that world-famed costermonger, who (as the legend goes) feeling himself conjointly blest with his pipe, his pot, his Polly, and his polonies, declined, under the circumstances, to "call Prince Halbert his uncle." Mention of the ladies we leave to the last as a bonne bouche. Ascot Grand Stand is, to our minds, the peaceful battle-field of English beauty; and returning on the Cup day, we certainly saw the most lovely woman that ever met our ken, waiting with a group of friends at the Railway Station, and adding not a little to her witchery as she playfully dusted the mantelettes of her two lady-friends with her parasol. A nice-looking bride, who was in the same carriage with us, seemed to think it just as well that her spouse should not look at her too much.

There was no pleasanter sight on the course than the yellow drag and four greys" tooled by matchless Peyton." Our modern bloods. cannot touch the old ones of the day "when George IV. was king ;" and we question whether one of them will ever rival that rare judge of horseflesh, General Pigot, who cantered past us, in his blue coat and gilt buttons, on a magnificent brown, in a forest riding, and who, though quite fourscore, seems as active on his legs, after all his campaigns, as if he had never done a day's work in his life, and to all human appearance good for twenty more Ascot Cup days.

"Divers gentlemen with decidedly lax notions on the laws of personal property," as dull imitators of Albert Smith will persist in terming them, mustered in great force. The C division, however, were a capital counterirritant, and among the troops whom they led before the Grand Stand Rhadamanthuses (Messrs. Hall and Henry) was "aperiently" an elderlylooking burgess, of a most respectable build, and with an equally respectable umbrella, in a neat oilskin wrapper.

The absence of her Majesty-occasioned, no doubt, by the sad uncertainty which hung over affairs in the East-threw its usual shade of

gloom over the proceedings, and the racing was hardly so interesting as we have known it.

Owing to the good growth of grass on it, the course was in very nice order, and the weather was such, that Butler and Nat got each 2lbs. below their usual "lowest riding weight." with no very great difficulty.

The Marquis of Exeter, as of yore, did his best to keep the "ball a rowling," and Harlock and his subs were kept pretty busy stripping their game Nutwith juniors throughout the entire afternoon. Sport will suffer not a little, whenever they cease to be seen driving towards the course at 1 a.m. in the pony carriage, the gallant "ex-postboy," with his "light blue and white stripe," just peeping below his over coat, in due charge of the ribbons. Two of the stud appeared in the first race, but we only got a look at Phoenix, a tallish and very stout-limbed colt, who will not, we fancy, be much good. Broughton is not the least improved since last year, and Ephesus is gradually losing his Northampton gloss and courage. Ariosto, in point of power, seemed little fit to cope with him up that hill; but, despite his temper, he is a thorough race-horse, and only second to Teddington among Orlando's get. It was said that Earl Derby had withdrawn Dervish from the next race, because he did not wish to oppose Lord Eglinton. Chivalrous as the motive might be, it was mistimed here, as Lamprocles had no more notion of racing than a cab-horse. He is quite powerful enough and furnished enough for one, and rather reminds us of the Knight of Avenel, though he has not such racing points about him. His legs, we apprehend, will fail him as that colt's did. Although we are sorry to see the tartan jacket sinking into the shade, and still trust to see it triumph again over its favourite Doncaster Race Common, we are right glad to see John Fobert once more at the service of the public. His talent has been shown to be second to none, by the long line of winners which he has turned out year after year, from the days that he used to staunch the bleeding sides of that sluggish conqueror General Chassè, till he led back the Flying Dutchman for the last time to scale. And what is more, he is one of those thoroughly sterling characters who, however humble the employer, or however splendid the temptation, would order any one out of Spigot Lodge then and there, who dared to hint at tampering with a horse under his care. Can we say the same of all his brethren?

Boer (as well as Dianne, who appeared on Thursday) quite savours in look of his sire, and has an ugly head, plenty of length, and a good stride. We did not, however, admire his back, and his near front heel seemed very raw and cracked. The stock of Van Tromp have shewn enough running hitherto, to make us lament that he ever quitted Walmgate Bar for St. Petersburgh; and the same remark applies still more forcibly to another St. Leger winner, The Baron. Never in our lives did we see such a mean-looking Queen's Vase, but we attribute it to the dulness of the oxydized silver, which seemed as if it was got by silver out of bronze, grandam by pewter. It is said, however, to work much sharper and more distinct than silver, but we must confess that we like the good old style. A very good field of nine showed for it. Grapeshot is not grown an inch, and is a little fellow with short legs, a still shorter temper (which "the knife" alone can cure), and a barrel big enough to hold forty canisters of grapeshot, without serious inconvenience; while Dove, on the contrary, was as narrow and as ugly behind as a mare well could

be. What an Oaks lot they must have been, to let that scarecrow up second! Indian Warrior is not improved, and has an enormously heavy head; and Orestes seemed some pounds lighter than he was at Epsom, very quiet, and utterly unnoticed, Rattle hardly looked so well as at Epsom, and we rather 66 whether he was query meant." He is a useful horse, with strong hips and a fine forehand-exceedingly like Sittingbourne's; while Rackapelt. was small, light, and active. Pelion was

decidedly grown, but he has not thickenned so much as we expected; and Rataplan is a prettier horse than Stockwell, especially in the outline of his back and head, and was brought out in "honest John's' finest form. His win was quite an easy one, as Pelion not only carried 2lbs. overweight, but pulled like a lunatic for the first half mile. We thought at one time that he would have taken the bit in his teeth, and run right away with Nat, as Bloomsbury did with Templeman, in the Ascot Derby of 39. Ninnyhammer showed himself a very resolute piece of stuff in that race this year, as he was far gone in grief at the stand, but came again in the last few strides. Till close on the chair, Filbert, on the outside, seemed to be just winning; then Cobnut apparently rushed to the rescue, and stopped half a neck short of his companion, and then the winner came. The feelings of Messrs. Jacques and Lane, when they saw him safe out of such a peck of troubles, must have been typified by a recent Times announcement-" At Ilampton Wick, Mrs. of a daughter, to the inexpressible joy of her husband and sister!"

Then

The wrangling match, as they returned to scale, somewhat explained the mystery of the finish. Norman charged Butler, who was next the rails, with closing on to him, and shutting him out; and Butler pretty forcibly retorted that he had better go and fight it out with Nat, for pressing them both so close to the rails. We saw no marks of his recent accident on Orinoco, but he is quite stale, and he walked very weak and wide. Marson got in front, and tried to stop the pace, but all to no purpose, as the "old mile" soon smashed his nag up. He seemed so disposed to take a "bite at the cherry" jacket, that they were obliged to cover his head with his hood during the saddling process. came the Stakes, with a very so-so lot of animals to contend for it. Little Davie was as fat and sleek as an easy-tempered bull, and Lady Evelyn looked light and leggy. King Pepin is not improved in any way; but Waterfall, who was ridden by Crouch at 6st. 8lbs. (!) (we often wonder why this clever, civil little fellow is not "up" oftener) was a very much nicer mare than we had ever imagined her to be. The Chief Baron was somewhat jolly in the waist, like his facetious namesake, and seemed sadly tender on his legs. Poodle is not bigger, but seems to have got length; and Buckthorn was the gem of the lot. He and Alfred Day were a perfect picture, as they quietly walked about by themselves, quite apart from the rest, in front of the stand, as if to challenge scrutiny and investment. He is not a very powerful, but a beautifully proportioned horse, with a temper like a lamb, and in perfect trim. We never remember seeing any one lie so far away from his horses as Alfred Day, except Lord March in some Goodwood race, many years ago. However, the non-professional never reached his horses (or rather his opponent), which the professional did in this case, and spoilt General Anson's farewell "pot.

The Welcome Stakes was a mere piece of bye-play for Sittingbourne,