mark, and judge for themselves as to the merits of Favonius? And what says the reverse of the medal, which we must in fairness exhibit. 'A trifle too high on the leg, sir," as Sir Tatton remarked of Lord Clifden, and hardly coming up to the Yorkshire requirement of well 'let down behind,' the latter failing inherited from his dam, and conspicuous in Hannah and others of the King Tom family. King Tom! -it hardly seems twenty-one years since Gully's pair settled the haplessnobbled one' between them, and the Baron's' proverbial ill-luck at Epsom began. But Tom' has had a splendid stud revenge; and while the great Bay Middleton line has dwindled down to the merest thread of a strain (in 'tail male'), that of Harkaway still flourishes root and branch,' and the grand old Father of the Turf' promises, in the language of his faithful custodian to go on for ever.' He still steps out gaily, as of yore, at Markham's call, ambling jauntily round the straw-yard, and standing for his likeness opposite the gate. Wise restrictions in the dulce amores courted by the flower of the Stud-Book, liberality in food, and, more important still, in exercise, have left the veteran of well-nigh five and twenty springs as vigorous as many others half his age. The finger of time shows itself in no shape more emphatically effacing' than when laid upon some patriarch of the stud. It deepens the hollow above the dimmed eye, lengthens the drawn head (all its noble front ticked with gruesome grey), wastes the neck of thunder,' sharpens the withers, hollows the back, and draws its seamy channel down the shrunken quarters. Signs such as these make no delay when the quarter-century span of equine life has been attained; but as yet their march upon the frame of the mighty Harkaway bay has been slow, and not unrelenting. Half a score of times was he led out during the past season, and he's not half done with yet' is the cheery boast with which Markham accompanies the hearty pat on his old favourite's neck. The kindest and most tractable of giants, he strongly objects to the racking up' process, threatening to have the whole place down about his ears in a moment; and his favourite custom of an afternoon is to stand in profound meditation while his poll undergoes the hand-rubbing process; and no sultan ever shook off his dignity more thoroughly under the manipulation of his shampooing genii of the bath.

His memory is destined not to fade out of the land; for ere long in 'breathing bronze,' and of life-size, he is fated from some airy pedestal on sylvan knoll to overlook the famous 'Vale' spread out beneath him, turning his head as if to list some well-known footfall, and within eye-shot of his progeny and their offshoots roaming far afield in the snug paddocks encircling his ancient home. A plaster model in miniature graces Markham's sideboard in the cosy cottage around which the summer roses cling so lovingly, and right faithfully has the canny hand of the modeller moulded each lineament of the noble steed, whose name in time may become as famous as that of his weird white brother guarding another vale rich in Turf traditions as that of Aylesbury, and resounding yet down the 'ringing avenue of time' with the thunder of Wild Dayrell's hoof, while

the hill-top in the distance echoes back the refrain of some jockey. boy's carol as he walks his charge homewards to Russley Park. No more graceful or lasting memorial to the founder of a line of kings could be devised than this; and while the living marble and glowing canvas hand down to remote posterity the form and lineaments of distinguished ancestors, why should not the creatures which have shared in founding their fame in the annals of sport be allowed some less fleeting monuments than the mounded barrow or lichened stone which mark the resting-place of some 'warrior steed?'

The well-knit Restitution awaits his turn to succeed, when the royal box in the corner shall be vacant at last, and already there are signs that the King Tom dynasty will be worthily perpetuated in one of the best stayers of his day. North Lincoln will beget for the Rothschild blue no more tight ones like Suffolk, or flying wonders of the Chopette type; and in the wasted form, weaving restlessly about his box, we fail to recognise the slashing antagonist to Promised Land up the Criterion Hill, and the brave des braves among redoubtable milers of his day.

The borderland betwixt glowing summer and golden autumn had not as yet been trodden by the footsteps of time, and field and garden teemed with ripening luxuriance of grain and fruit; but the reddening haw upon wayside hedge, and yellowing clusters that relieved the deep green foliage of mountain ash, told of merry days in store for horse and hound, when the season of seasons' comes to crown the varying sports of the year. The mellow glories of October replace silk with scarlet, and the horn of the hunter rings clear and shrill from where upon yonder rolling hills echoes a sweeter music still, and the rising generation of the kennel realises its first 'dim image of war' before the 'regular' campaign in the misty November mornings. The ladies are grouped round Cox in picturesque guise, so tempting to the brush of a Pearce or the pen of a Druid, and are called up for judgment each in her turn, and each separate point of blood, bone, and symmetry descanted upon with all the ardent love of a huntsman for his spotted darlings. We, whose stud-book lucubrations are deeper than the hound-lore we would fain better comprehend, must be content to look on at respectful distance, while the sight of each beauty of the Vale calls up some incident of forest days or moving accident among the 'doubles' of the fruitful valley lying beneath. Fain would we court initiation into the mysteries which the freemasonry of the hunting-field interprets so readily, and take in at a glance the capabilities of each hope of the pack, duly weighing in the balance the comparative excellencies of legs and feet, back and loins, size and quality. A driving shower detains us under cottage eaves, and sundry tales of the chase of bucks in Bucks' while away the time, more suitable for the light parcels department of Our Van,' or for reproduction in Country Quarters,' than as lights and shadows dashed in with careless hand by an ardent admirer, but no true disciple of the rites of the chaste goddess of the chase.

We wanted Mr. Parrington, or some one of those potent and

grave seigneurs of the bench, at our elbow, when, one by one, the dog-pack came forth, drawn for inspection on the flags, now steaming in the sun after a parting salute from Jupiter Pluvius. The name of 'Favonius' took us rather off our line towards a second discussion on the merits of his chestnut namesake, and thenceforward between Master of the Horse and Master of the Hound were bandied many words of chaff, taken and given on behalf of their respective pets. Our host, on hospitable ideas intent, would have drawn us away from the kennel to the boiling-house, but the production of a line of kings, more lengthy than that which filed before Macbeth, kept us chained to the spot, while Cox went through his catalogue of worthies, and, sticking well to his line, only pulled up at the take at last. The transition from the hound to his follower is easy and natural enough, and, looking at the cattle, we should say that the chief and his whips stood in no danger of drawing upon the Hunt 'Servants' Benefit Society,' so far as the safety of their conveyances is concerned. The enthusiastic welter would smack his lips at the sight of so many genuine weight-carriers, and we were assured that cleverness is a sine quâ non with horses brought to negotiate the fences of the Vale. Five horses each a week should satisfy the most exigeant of servants, and no wonder that the pack sustains its reputation as premier among staggers' in England, and numbers among its followers riders as straight and hard as any who affect the shires or cast in their lots with the pride of English fox-hunting chivalry. And it would be instructive as well as amusing to analyse and report upon the widely different composition of the London divisions,' one of which boxes its nags down to Cheddington or Leighton Buzzard, while the other swells the motley throng at Salt Hill or Maidenhead Thicket, when Harry King vans Her Majesty's' from the green retreats of Windsor Forest.

But Forward' is the cry, and with the setting sun streaming over deep pasture, golden waves of wheat, and ruddy homesteads embowered in protecting trees, we leave Mentmore far behind; and shadows gather deep and fast on the far-off Chiltern Hills, grey church towers rising here and there to mark where hamlets cluster round their ancient walls. Nothing so potent as the slow course and monotonous rattle of a Parliamentary train to break up, for the time, pleasant lines of thought, and to bring minds, refreshed by a 'day in the country,' back to the levelling influences of this work-aday world. A thousand pleasing recollections have been aroused by the sights of the day; we have been interviewing, in the calm retirement of their well-earned rest, actors and actresses whose very names are sufficient to stir our pulses once again, as we think on the days that are no more,' and on a Turf career, bright in its early promise, honourable through its score of seasons-in whatever direction the tide of fortune might set-but most brilliant in its close with the reflected glories of the 'modern "West."'

AMPHION.

PROVINCIAL COACHING.

HAVING in the two last numbers of 'Baily' attempted to give our readers some slight idea of coaching as it is to be seen from London, in order to render our history of the sport complete, we now propose to say something concerning provincial coaching, for it must not be supposed that Londoners are allowed to have all the fun to themselves. A few years ago a coach in the provinces was a rarity, except in those wild and secluded districts as yet unpenetrated by railways, where miserable ramshackle old vehicles were drawn by still more miserable horses. Now things are altered, the love of the sport first nursed in London has spread far and wide, until the number of coaches running in the provinces exceeds those starting from London. This is a healthy sign, and we are pleased to see it. It is a plain proof that the sport has taken root, and that men who have enjoyed the pastime on the London ground are determined to, as it were, take it home with them and naturalise it at their country-seats. The list of coaches which are or have been running during the past summer will show how widely spread the sport has become, and that coaches are now to be found north, south, east, and west. England, we believe, has supported no less than ten; but what shall we say of Wales, which has kept going nearly a third of the number; while our Irish friends, as far as we can learn, have been contented with two? In England we find—

Of these we will first notice the Doncaster and Rotherham, which commenced running early in the year, and stopped about the end of July. The journey is but a short one, but the coach was a tremendous success, the number of passengers carried being almost incredible. It was very well horsed and turned out by Mr. Platt, who, we hear, was much assisted by Captain the Hon. Fred Howard in many ways, and the whole thing done as well as it could be. The professional was E. Page, who has since been engaged by Mr. G. Lowther for the Scarborough and Bridlington Quay coach. The Margate and Canterbury leaves Margate every morning at eleven, and arrives at Canterbury at twenty-five past one, putting up at the Fleur-de-lis, having this year changed from the Rose. The proprietor is Mr. Hargreaves. This, taking in Ramsgate, is twenty-two or twenty-three miles, and the road one of the most uninteresting, as regards scenery, that any man could select to drive over, running through open fields, in many parts bare of both hedges and trees. It is, however, capital for horses, having no steep hills for them to encounter, and, except into Ramsgate, a coachman might well get over the whole without using break or skid. The cattle used are quite first-rate; no man need wish to see better teams put to than are to be found on this road, and the coach is a new one by Shanks, fitted with his patent lock; and it has one of those knifeboard things on the roof which we have so strongly condemned. To our eye it is painted far too much like a drag to have a real coaching look, and the bright pole chains and hooks are also quite out of place on a public coach; we fancy they found the inconvenience of them during the wet weather we had during July. However there is a reason for having them, for we learn that the letters on the back of a coach can now be done over with some composition in a very short time, which completely and effectually hides them, and the affair can be used as a private drag; that job over, the stuff is rubbed off, and she comes out again in all her glory as a coach, so that she resembles very much Goldsmith's

chest contrived a double debt to pay,

A private drag by night, a public coach by day.'

This is a utilitarian age no doubt, and our jeunesse dorée are becoming economical, even in their sports and pastimes, to an extent we had not dreamed of until we heard of this sort of doublebarrelled carriage, half coach, half drag. Would not some of our old waggoners scorn these metamorphoses? By-the-way, we have animadverted on taking a coach off her regular road to run to race meetings and sales. What shall we say when we find that the Margate was stopped a day, in order that the team might parade. a new fire-engine round the town? Verily, we see some strange things in the coaching world in these later days. Mr. Hargreaves has the Margate and Canterbury entirely in his own hands this season (last year, when it was first started, he had a confederate), and drives a good deal himself. One thing we can say for him-he is a