heat. "I conclude so," said that gentleman. And "Aye! aye! you told us so last time, and a pretty sight of them went home again" was the rejoinder. The sale list was of the most perfect kind; and the performances of all the dogs were given in full, with little notes as to how the "dark" dogs had run in their trials. An attendant "Archy," in a silver-laced coat, black and white striped waistcoat, and a little foraging cap with an embossed coat-of-arms on its band, mounted the table with each of the lots, and very proud he looked of his pets. The blood is the original Old Blue Bugle and Streamer of Cheshire and Lancashire, combined with the stoutest Scotch; and it seems to have the peculiarity of running on, season after season. Bright Steel-the winner of the Ardrossan Cup this season, in addition to six previous prizes, in which he sent down both Protest and Sunbeam-was the first to show. He is quite a thin-haired blue dog, with a deal of white on his face, legs, and breast, and very strong and muscular about the loins. "Twenty guineas" was the first bid; and away he rattled to 70 gs. with very little difficulty. "Seventy guineas for a dog!" said an odd-looking specimen behind us to his chum; "why you and I, laa, would not fetch that thegither." And in truth, to look at them, I do not think they would. On he went to 91 gs., and down went Mr. Aldridge's hammer with that remarkable energy which is alike conspicuous whether he sells for a guinea or a hundred. Blue-eyed Lass, sister to Bright Steel, and smaller, lighter, and whiter, followed at 40 gs., making the third-season dogs average 65 gs. Banner Blue a young brother of theirs, and therefore with three lines of Blue Bugle in his veins-was a perfect fac-simile of his sire Bluelight; and we wonder how such transparent coats can ever bide the nipping blasts of the North. Bloodshot had been worried to death in his kennel by his companions-a sad, ignoble end for a nephew of Japhet's, and one who was considered far the choice card of his owner's kennel for the late Biggar Cup, which was won by his sister Blackness.' This bitch began at 50 gs., and ended at 85 gs., and there were none in the lot we liked better. Black Flag, a son of old Wicked Eyes and Bluelight, was wonderfully handsome; and the first 80 gs. bidding soon swelled into 115 gs.; this made the secondseason dogs average rather above 52 gs. Many of the first-season puppies were small; and Blue Sky was very slight, and a great contrast to her own brother Belgravian, who is a very handsome slashing dog, with wonderful legs and feet. Although unlucky in public so far, he fetched 69 gs., while his more fortunate sister Blue Sky reached 105 gs. Bit of Heather was remarkably pretty; and it was said that Mr. Marjoribanks gave the 48 gs. Brightonia, another son of Wicked Eyes, was a wonderful seventeen-months puppy, weighing full 70lbs., and apparently strong enough to pull down a deer. 9 gs. was his figure; while his brother, Black Shadow, who looked the quicker of the two, brought 29 gs. less. Bit of Fancy and Bit of Ribbon were amiss, and did not come out; and Old Beacon, with his grey face, family blue, and fine bone, wound up the biddings at 60 gs. Thus the third-season dogs averaged 65 gs., the secondseason 52 gs., and the third 41 gs.-making, with Beacon, 1,048 gs. for the twenty-two, or about 47 gs. a-piece.

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Captain Daintree's nine dogs fetched rather more than 21 gs. each; and as if to illustrate the caprice of fortune, Debonair by Locomotive fell for a 70-guinea nod; and a week after, his own brother Jacobin

could with difficulty fetch 2 gs. Not a few countrymen came up on the 19th, to try and get something cheap, though many did not care to go beyond 3 gs. Lady Wildair and Lucy Ashton, a pair of neat black bitches by Bedlamite out of Lurlei, went for only 10 gs.; and Stromness, by Larriston out of a Daughter of Egypt and Mocking Bird, for only 2 gs. The best Ranter sapling, could not make more than 7 gs.; and eight of one litter by him averaged 3 gs. His day, however, is to come, as the dog has had too many bitches to begin with, on the strength of his own and his sister Riot's performances. The late Sir James Boswell's twenty-five, in which Lima was substituted for Music, followed; but the attendance of coursers was not large, and a trifle above 44 gs. was their average. Mr. Rendall was there, and "Stonehenge's" well-known visage greeted us beneath Mr. Aldridge. The former bought old Puzzle'em for 10 gs., and Jasper by Terralgan for 9 gs. Puzzle'em bore no signs of age, considering that it is now seven seasons since he won The Druid Cup, "killing his hares like flashes," as a Wiltshire trainer remarked at our elbow. He is a very sturdy red dog, rather drooping in the stern, and very compact and short, thick in the neck, bread in the chest, and wonderfully clean and beautiful on the legs-just the sort of boy to drive his hare from end to end, and never give it or his opponent a chance of scoring a point. He is, we believe, eight removes from the pure bull-dog on one side; and Sir James certainly succeeded in this fancy à merveille, when we see the triumph of his Jason in the Vraye Foy and Elf cross. No wonder another Amesbury man wants to see if he cannot get the old dog to "nick in" equally well with something Wiltshire. We often wonder if a cross with the savage thin-haired Rampoor hound, or as some term it the Polygar dog of India, would ever suit our much lighter and less greyhounds. Their height is at least five inches more, and weight in proportion, and they will pull down a leopard cleverly. Not long since, a friend of ours in Oude sent for one, and it got down with its guardian as far as Lucknow; when in an evil hour it entered the bazaar, and so outraged a merchant by polishing off a kid, that he rushed out with his sword and chopped its head off. But we must hark back. There were only two of Puzzle'ems stock in the sale, but several of Terralgan's, a dark fawncoloured dog by The Curler out of Betsy Baker, whose "handsome" figure we did not exactly appreciate. His half-brother Hope, a red and white dog, with a touch of his maternal grandsire Sam about the head, and a full brother to Bit of Fancy to boot, brought the best price (11) gs.) of the whole; and though we much liked the black Cromwell bitch Jean, there was nothing so raking-like as Braes by Tersell (a son of War Eagle) out of Bella. He stood over a wonderful deal of ground; and at 5 gs. he was very cheap, although in his third or fourth season.

It is quite a contrast visiting this snug little emporium, and elbowing a host of "cabbies" instead of trainers. Still it is rather tiresome, when you are waiting for the greyhounds, to have a "double-headed gig" wheeled out almost on to your toes, and to see a whole lot of helps arrive, and stand solemnly before the auctioneer with bundles of clothing on their heads, waiting to be knocked down. We are told by a friend that the new mart at Paris is a particularly smart affair. The horses are run up and down the middle of the large space, which is glassed over, and nicely sanded down. The auctioneer and two

aide-de-camps, all of whom collect bids, take their station at the end, and the ladies look on and saunter through the carriage repository, which is attached. Some of the bidders put their fingers to their nose when they bid, one finger signifying half, and two a whole Napoleon. Prices are never great, and on one occasion last month none of a whole host of Arabs put up realized much more than £30. They have also an odd plan of putting up a pair of horses separately, and then bringing them out again for a joint bid.

A word for a well-known public character ere we conclude. The testimonia! to "Felix," who is now living at Brighton, unable to pursue his profession of an artist, in consequence of a severe stroke of paralysis, is going on favourably so far, under the kind care of Mr. F. Lilly white. Some fifteen years ago, when Pilch began to decline in play, and before Parr appeared as a shining light, Felix was undoubtedly the first bat in England. His defence was not so good as that of either of those great masters, but his hitting was superior; he could hit "all round." He was somewhat over-fond of hitting, but how often he ran away with a match by it! On one occasion, Hillyer, the then best bowler in England, exclaimed " I don't know where to drop her, for he is sure to hit her away.”

ENGRAVED BY J. B. HUNT, FROM A PAINTING BY HARRY HALL.

BY CASTOR.

We live in perilous times; and accidents by flood and field crowd upon us. Never, for instance, did a hunting season open with such a run of serious casualties; although anybody who has been half an hour with hounds knows the reason why. When boys are bird-nesting, and gardeners gathering raspberries, we must not be surprised to find green fences as well as green fields. The country, in a word, was never known to be so blind at this season of the year; and loose horses, and broken collar-bones, with even more lamentable ills, have been the consequence. But it is not the Eighty Hunter alone who risks his neck. That prime minister of Fortune's favours, the well-worked jockey, may meet with as much mishap in a mile's scurry over the flat, as if he were bound to take everything in his line. How many such may we reckon up within this season or two! Robinson, in the still hale autumn of a glorious career, disabled for ever by a restive brute. Marlow so shattered, that it is doubtful if he can ride again-the poor "Vicar," after successfully overcoming almost every misfortune a horseman could be tried with, slain outright at an awkward turn on a country course. Within a week or two, another light-weight, little Deer, is as fatally injured; later still, F. Bell dies from a fall in a hurdle-race; while but a year previous, another of the best of our jockeys has his career stopped in the very full of its prosperity.

If ever a man ranked high amongst our celebrated jockeys, it was Bartholomew at the time this portrait was taken. If ever a man promised to attain the very first place in his profession, it was Bartholomew