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since have been won with such ease that there can be no question of his right to a lead in the betting. Lord Exeter's stable altogether is in great force, and very trifling odds between three of his Lordship's string for next Derby; but those which leave Folly to look after a Dulcinea, and forget Beiram, will find their mistake. The last, though certainly not least, of the younkers which commands notice, is Messrs. Day and Dilly's Margrave; and this will, I suspect, turn out the flower of the flock. That this horse never ought to have been beaten, we are all well aware now; and the style in which so great a lazy lurching animal won the Criterion, ought to be indelibly impressed on every one looking forward to next Derby; and if any one will be so prejudiced as not to like a great good one, let them back the stable, and they may perchance win their money with a little one gratis.

The race for the Audley End was a great pot with the backers of Lucetta, certainly by far the "best in" in the race, receiving a year and 2lb. from The Cardinal, and actually running within 2lb. at even weights with The Saddler, a three-year old. The handicap was anything but fair; and it is no wonder that country horses cut in general so moderate a figure at Newmarket. With regard to The Saddler, it really appears as if the handicappers were determined to give not a shadow of a chance to the animal; and though all professed to be anxious to see the horse run, yet they had not generosity enough to give a gallant antagonist fair play-favour was not asked. By the bye I was somewhat surprised to see your excellent Correspondent OBSERVATOR, whose articles I usually turn to with the greatest pleasure, in his account of the Houghton Meeting in your December Number, make some curious remarks relative to The Saddler having run forward" in a race, which Mr. Payne's Lisette colt won. "The

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Saddler," he says, "to his credit, ran forward in the race; but it was evident the saddle was put on the wrong horse, being made to give 2st. 3lb. to

what have been thought decent horses of his own year. We do not know how to blame those who put on this enormous weight, but it does not say much in favour of Mr. Wagstaff's fine feelings in suffering it to remain there." The quibble is pretty, but only one remark is wanting―The Saddler did not start! Verily, Mr. OBSERVATOR, the marshalling of the article is not so usually correct as we are wont to have it from your experienced and accomplished pen!

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The Saddler's race, however, in the Audley End, having in that given 5lb. to Protocol, has led to a sporting and spirited match between the two, with however this essential difference, that instead of 5lb. The Saddler is to give 11lb. Although my gentle Wagstaff," you have no doubt got a good horse, you are getting to the outside of your mark with him, and may overshoot it. To be sure you have made it for all the money, and the Guy horse has a doubtful leg; but I must take leave to say, that The Saddler in the next Spring must be a great deal better than The Saddler last autumn, or I fear the horse's reputation or his owner's pocket will not be much benefited. Of this I am certain, that The Saddler, in the Houghton, was not within a stone of himself as he was at Doncaster; and sharp as his party are, one would think Landrail's performances, out of their hands, would have satisfied them of their meritorious(!) system of training.

The country nags cut a much better figure than usual at Newmarket : the game little mare Pandora, after having been dragged all over the country, could manage to cut down fields of crack racers; and The Cardinal, when he did at length get on anything like fair terms, by his beating Coulon so easily, shewed that if there had been time enough for him, he might perchance have been voted a Popedom. In fact, any man who goes to Newmarket with a horse so fresh and fit to run as The Cardinal was in the Houghton, ought never to be allured by the bait of handicaps held out to him, as he and his horse are certain to be taken care of. The vanity of in

dividuals will always ensure better terms in a match or two.

Looking at the year's sport altogether, we have no right to complain. Reform has had its evils-let us hope

it will bring its good: and that next season may be better than its predecessors is the wish of

THE YOUNG FORESTER,

January, 1832.

ERRATA.In the first part of the "Review," p. 63, col. 2, line 1, for "not of the dam," read “out of the dam ;" and 1. 17, for “lamentable,” read “lamented :” p. 65, col. 2, last line, for " T. Smith," read "T. Scaith,"

WHO-WHOOP.

"Who-whoop! who-whoop! tear him, he's fairly run down."

WE feel pleasure in presenting to cloudy sky;" and our painter has

our readers the combined efforts of those excellent artists, Messieurs TURNER and ROMNEY, who have, we are prone to think, catered well by producing a bijou for the blessed ogles of every lover of the Chase and without arrogating to ourselves the gift of foreknowledge, we feel assured a richer or more appropriate Christmas boon could not grace our periodical. In truth, the pencil and burin of our artists (which have so frequently been called into requisition by us, and whose efforts, we are bound in justice to say, have elicited the general approval of our friends) need on the present occasion little comment. To pourtray Nature in all her varied charms, her wayward fancies, must ever be the grand desiderata of those who devote their hours to so pleasing a study; and to closely copy her, the eye must take within its vision her every point, and the hand must in unison follow truly to delineate her beauties. To spring the fence as a clipper, to do the glorious, or to unsheath the sabre in defence of our liberties and laws, have each their eclat and their mishaps, which those who follow must resolve to encounter: and as each pursuit is most consonant to the taste of the hero, so are all its attendant vicissitudes met with unshrinking courage and firmness. From the lights and shadows so admirably blended in this picture, we can well imagine the Southerly wind and

66

here presented us with a view of a disaster which occurred to a brilliant of the Old Berkeley in his presence. The form, strength, and stroke of gallop of the prad is capital; and few who are anxious to do the trick would, we are sure, hesitate to pull his purse strings, and shell out a few cool fifties for the enviable possession of such a steed, to whom five-bar gates and bull-finches are the time o' day. The nonchalence of our man of pink, who in the revelry of the melée seems regardless of danger, is well depicted, though the broken girth, floating in mid air, is sufficiently appalling to other beholders; and he can only thank his stars that his clip of saddle was bang up. We can fancy the enlivening cheer and "who-whoop! tear him my beauties," which is ringing in the ears of the canine spirits of the hunt. Behold the castor, high in air, proclaiming the moment of slaughter and of victory! The natural position of his varmint, with ivories flashing and porcupines erect as he fronts the ruthless pursuers, is all in good keeping. The two sparks in the distance, and the retired whitewashed spire, half unbosomed in leafy foliage, under which perhaps some gallant son of Old Tom Moody is run to earth, are well placed. conclusion, it is our earnest trust that all true disciples of the slot, the brush, and the scut, be never thus situated: but if so,

"Ne'er mind-hark, hark, forward! what care we for knocks ?
Let those die who must, we will live with the fox:
Let cocktails then faulter, but thorough-breds we
Will stick to the saddle till ended the spree !"""

In

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TRICKERY IN HORSE-DEALING BY ADVERTISEMENTS.

MR. EDITOR,

I Beseech you, if you have any pity in your breast, any regard for a sportsman-if you love justice and hate dishonour, allow me a little corner of your valuable periodical for a few remarks on a set of rascals, soidisant gentlemen, who abound in the Metropolis, and carry on their nefarious proceedings with as much secresy and as little remorse as those Nova Scotia savages who have now (most properly) paid with their infamous lives the vast debt due to their much aggrieved country. But this is neither a fit nor a pleasing subject for the pen of a sportsman; therefore I will at once commence my theme, hoping it will be the humble means of saving a few of my brethren from the mortification of being gulled. Should my object be attained, then shall I not have written in vain.

At that delightful season of the year when hunting commences, a man naturally wants to make some alterations or additions to his stable; and as he lounges over his café and the newspaper, he is very apt to glance his eye over the advertisements to see if there is anything in the shape of a bit of horse-flesh likely to suit him. This is perfectly natural; and an honorable man, and above all a true sportsman, is the last to imagine that (to speak figuratively) there is a secret poison lurking in such advertisements; that they are worse than man-traps and spring-guns, and so artfully worded as to catch the attention, not only of the novice, but the

man who considers himself up to all the tricks of town. Lamentable as the case may be, it is nevertheless true; and as I have lately experienced the truth of it in my own proper person, I am anxious to point out to the world the rock on which they are so likely to split. I will not particularise my own case, but explain the way in which these gentlemanlike horse-dealers contrive to take in the public without being themselves taken in.

In the first place there appears a flaming advertisement, setting forth that at some stable (at the West End generally) there is for sale one of the grandest hunters that ever entered Hyde Park gates; up to everything a prad ought to be up to; a regular clipper, young in the tooth, sound wind and limb, got by a fashionable sire out of a high-bred dam, and rode to hounds last season in some of the distinguished Hunts. N.B. "A trial allowed."

This appears fair enough: and, if in immediate want of a steed, you forthwith sally out, with the most sanguine expectations as to the result. On reaching the stable you are greeted by a natty groom, having every appearance of belonging to a fashionable man, who informs you the gentleman is not in the way, but he (the groom), having been so long in the service of the gentleman, has the power of giving every answer to a customer. You naturally inquire to whom the horse belongs; when you are told, in the most off-hand way possible, he is the property of a Mr. Jones, Smith, White, or Brown (anything you like), who LI

VOL. IV. SECOND SERIES.-No. 22.

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