Serjeant Parry's explanation of it is about on a par, for lucidity and general felicity, with Mr. Kean's defence of "Argus, the Exile." The announcement that the latter could not give Friponnier 7lbs. has not shaken him in the betting, as the latter gave Lord Lyon such a taste of his quality at 26lbs. over the Bretby course; and what is the present evidence of The Rake's not being able to stay we are quite puzzled to discover. Strangely enough, those who assert it have every faith in Achievement's staying at Epsom, though they saw her "stop to nothing" the moment she was asked to climb the hill at his side. The tykes have seldom been so hot on any horse as they are on Plaudit for the two events, although some have a lurking fear that he may inherit "musical honours" from his dam.

There has been no death during the month save poor Charles Winteringham's. Twenty years ago he was in full swing, riding for "B. Green's stable," whose Grafton scarlet was seen at nearly every northern meeting, and would have been sorely missed if John Osborne and the chocolate and black cap had not in the nick of time supplied its place. Edward Edwards had most of the heavy-weight riding for the stable, while they were in their heyday in 1847, and after that he began gradually to waste with consumption, and Winteringham was put up in most of the races. He was a very steady sort of jockey, and understood his business as a trainer; but he did not make money at it, although he had a rare pull in his sale of Apennine and Harvest Mell.

The racing of the month has been remarkable for the number of exracers which have appeared in the steeple chases and hurdle races, from the whilom 2,500-guinea King Arthur down to Mother of Pearl, who ran in the Oaks of last year. The professions scem quite united; Fortunatus won a hurdle race at Liverpool with Mr. A. Goodman up, and next day he was third to Foresight for the Spring Cup. Liverpool brought out the first of the Caractacuses, La Muette, as a winner; but he must improve on that form. Kenyon and the green and silver braid seems to be as formidable as he ever was, and little Rejoinder's tumble gave another cold chill to the supporters of Master Butterfly. That the Liverpool Grand National should fall to the most spirited supporter of the sport, must have even reconciled the Glasgow bailies and ladies to the sale of the Hamilton cart-horses and cows, as they will feel that the Duke has got back some of those "baw bees" from the English, over which they raised such lamentation, and on which they always "keep a most fixt eye." Little Sir Bobby made mincemeat of Harold and Co. for the Cup at Chertsey, and hence some were not so surprised to see him beat Cortolvin as he did through the Croydon mud. The Humane Society were avenged, although they can hardly have digested their January costs. People congratulated themselves on keeping to their fire-sides on the Croydon Tuesday, but those 33 brave spirits who did man the eighteen-carriage special, said it was worth all the fare and the discomfort to see. The Doctor stride over the fences. The Cures all inherit the Blacklock power of jumping, and certainly some of them seem to last as long as old Naworth did. At Chertsey there were two of them in full practice, Serious Case and Sportsman

Zodiac), the latter one of these three beautiful little Cures, which tain Skipworth brought to the Doncaster "Dust Hole" one year. Doctor won his maiden two-year old race at Chester in 1863; but

he cut up very badly in a field of seventeen for the Stockbridge Biennial, when there was only 7 to 4 against him at starting, and the Derby dream was over. It was "the knife again," but that wrought no cure, and in 1865-66 he did not trouble the Turf. Demonstration by Marsyas by Q. E. D., the first of the Blenkiron two-year-old winners of the year, turned up at Chelmsford, and a very cheap one he must be at 125 gs. Saccharometer had broken down on paper, but not in his back sinews, and there he was at Warwick, racing through the snow and winning his 14th race out at 32. Considering that he is beginning his sixth season, he has not been very heavily worked. Old Queen of Trumps ran 38 times last season alone, and won 12. St Albans has got the lead with winning two year olds this season, and it is somewhat remarkable that Gemma de Vergy's stock should have won the principal race and steeple-chase in one week. There seems a faint hope that Aldcroft may be in the saddle again, and we trust he may, although he will be sorely "pinched" to do it. When the Jockey Club did raise their weights, they might have done it with a less niggard hand, and made the filly weights 8st. 71b., and put the colts up to Sst. 12lb. It will come to this yet.

;

There have not been any horse sales of importance during the month and, even with the executors' reduction, Knight of the Crescent and Grand Cross find no purchasers. Knight of St. Patrick, by-the-bye, has lowered his covering fee 50 per cent. St. Alexis, that unworthy son of Stockwell and Mendicant, only fetched 22 gs. at Tattersall's, and Mendicant has lost the constant companion of her paddock-life in Miami, the last Oaks mare that ever won over the old Warren Course. She was by no means a fashionable sort of mare, but her neat, Venison head, was full of character, while her rather large quarters gave her a somewhat clumsy look. As a breeder, she had no claim to be remembered.

Lord Clifden's foals are well reported of, and one of them has already fallen a chesnut-a colour in which his sire Newminster was fond of indulging, although his sire Touchstone was never known to get one. His dam missed to Toxopholite last year. Stallions have filled very well this year, despite their high tariff. Owners tell you that they put their horses high to keep away inferior mares; and yet, when mares don't arrive for them in consequence, they grumble at getting no chance, and crab every one else's horses. The fees demanded are perfectly marvellous. Untried sires, without a first-class certificate from the Racing Calendar, are put at 50 g3. at once; and, as we look down the list, we find a rank roarer at 15 gs., another out of the softest mare of the day at 25 gs., a very delicate horse at 20 gs., one of the greatest failures and the most be-puffed horse of the day at the same price, ditto another whose services were not at a premium when they could be got for 30s.; then we have another, who never would go more than a mile in his life when there was a pace, at 25 gs.; and the horse who has had one of the finest chances and done least with it, at twice that sum. Neophyte's owner is most Catholic-minded, as he offers to take twenty thorough-bred mares gratis, from a belief that his horse" only requires opportunity to prove himself a good sire." "That great curiosity-an honest Lawyer" (as the late Sir Tatton Sykes called him), and the most perfect horse in England" (as Mr. Eyke calls him), is only at 5 gs.; but we fear that the "half-bred hair or two in

his tail" will keep him out of the Royal Agricultural competition for the thorough-bred prize at Bury, or else Mr. E. might send him, and prove his words.

The Society are very liberal this year, as they give three prizes of £100, £50, and £25 for thorough-bred sires; and three of £50, £25, and £10 for sires with not less than four crosses of pure blood, provided they have not charged more than £5 5s. for half-bred mares during the season. The third prize will, however, only be given in case ten are shown, or the judges specially recommend it. Owners of good hunters may also hear of £110 to their advantage at Bury. The Yorkshire Society only offer £30 and £10 for blood sires next August, but their hunter classes are legion, with £195 in cash, and two silver cups of £20 and £25 value, one given by Lord Feversham for the best two or three-year-old, and the other by Mr. Frederick Bell, for the best fouryear-old and upwards. Mr. Bell's grounds abut on the Thirsk racecourse, where the show is to be held, and it is, we believe, his property. Mr. Parrington quite hopes to have the hound show as usual. When we consider the pride which Yorkshire farmers take in hunter breeding, and how cheerfully they walk puppies, and allow their farms to be ridden over, a hound show can never be out of place at an agricultural meeting. It, moreover, brings customers for the hunters in the shape of Masters of Hounds, who but for the attractions of "the flags" might never chance to look near.

The hearts of the Cambridge dons have not been softened by the assurances that their athletes will not be so noisy again on the rail between Oxford and Cambridge, to the great terror of the peaceful inhabitants of Bedfordshire, and the scandal of Alma Mater. The present settlement for Walham Green seems a much more natural one. So many college athletic meetings at the Universities have made the thing rather stale there, and it will give it fresh life to have it in a metropolitan arena. The parsons, and other University men who come up to town specially for the boat-race, can have two days' pleasure instead of one, and the Civil Service athletic sports will finish up the three days pleasantly enough for those University men who stay in town over the Monday. The rowing men must have been dreadfully agitated by the conflicting reports of the dark and light blues. First, Mr. M. Brown was to be stroke for Oxford, and then he was'nt; and Mr. Fish went on. Next Mr. Griffiths' style did'nt please the posse comitatus of runners on the bank, and it did'nt alter, although every" Cambridge correspondent" wrote to the sporting papers about it. Then the Rev. F. Maule descended on to the scene. We have all heard of that most awful punishment, being "preached to death by wild curates;" but certainly the instructions of this gentleman seem to have had the most elevating effect, and we then began to hope better things of the great Mr. Griffiths after" sitting under him." Act 4th. The Oxford Boating President arrived at Cambridge, and every movement of his eye was watched as he did the legitimate touting on behalf of his University. A cabinet council must have been held on his return, as Mr. Fish was deposed, and Mr. M. Brown reappeared at the stroke oar, which he had handled so victoriously for two years. Alas!

"He came, and he went like the simoon,

That harbinger of fate and gloom."

Some called it "domestic arrangements," and others would have it that his style had departed from him, and he only overset the boat; but at all events joy was changed to mourning once more, and Mr. Marsden was the new premier vice Mr. Fish, gone to No. 7. The former was once at Cambridge, and pulled in the Lady Margaret boat. When Mr. Maule returned to his rectory, Mr. Steavenson became the coach, and he has fallen under the lash of "our own correspondent" for slanging his men too much. At all events it seems to be even betting this year, and the light blues will don their colours with much more heart than they have done. As for the Kelly and Chambers match, that was very easily arranged viva voce, when paper protocols only produced fresh complications and fresh discussions over whiskeytoddy; and the Chester Cup week will be marked by a contest the like of which the Tyne has hardly ever known. It would be a bitter thing for Chambers to be beaten there, but he is quite "an old 'un" now, and we hardly dare hope for him.

As for that other "old 'un," Jem Mace, he seems to be hunted like a beaver for his skin. His contempt for articles of the peace seem nearly as sublime as poor Tom Sayers' for an Oxford Vice-Chancellor, when that potentate refused to let his horse-riders perform without his license. Mr. Dunne, the Cumberland inspector, seems to view Jem as a sort of half-brother to the cattle plague, and to be as anxious to "stamp him out," as he wanted a warrant against him at Kendal, immediately after Rooke's fight, but even the bench of that Quakerhaunted place bade him curb his ardour till the 12th of April. Now the Taffies are on his track, for the little matter of Goss and Allen; but it is to be hoped that he will keep out of their way, as Wormald would fight at still greater odds without him, in his corner as commander-in-chief. As for Goss, he seems as wonderful a man as "Japanese Tommy," or Chang's friend "The Tartar Rebel." The latter was said to yearn for a British wife, and when one of the other sex chaffed him by uttering the words "Ching! Ching!"-which were to be the mystic terms of acceptance from any lady present-the lovesick dwarf was for giving away any amount of weight and inches on the spot. In the same way, Mace is not "fit" to meet the giant, and he immediately says, "My esteemed friend Mr. Joseph Goss will be happy to accommodate him," and accordingly Mr. J. G., though nearly a foot less, is ready to sign articles then and there, and to any amount. Still all this does'nt get the steam up; we shall never again hear of the Sporting Life selling its 360,000 copies; of the Home Secretary, the grave Cornewall Lewis, being fairly squared by " Pam," and of "that light-'arted old 'oss" coming down with his fiver for "the little Englishman," in the lobby of the House of Commons.

Considering the uncertain weather, there has been a very fair amount of coursing since the Waterloo. The "Patents" have not done quite so much; and, at four meetings more especially, the run of luck has been on one particular blood. At Ashdown, Woodman's Daughter won the Craven Cup, and her own-sister Sylvia ran up for the Uffington; at the Coquetdale, the Scotland-yet descendants had a great sweep; at Brougham, bar old Bagot (and "he always wins at Lowther and aboot these parts"), victory rested with the Heart o' King's stock; and at the Barnton Meeting, Clansman's were in the front rank. Lobelia

won three courses, beating both Isaac and Trovatore, in the Altear Cup, before she divided with three. This meeting with the crack Cumberland bitch so soon after the Waterloo was rather remarkable, as the Thompson party always considered that they won the course with Royal Seal, despite the unsighting, and that they might have beaten Lobelia in the decider. When they did meet, Lobelia won cleverly; but she was fresher, as Trovatore had a cut at three hares in her course of the day before. These two bitches leave off quite the A. and B. of the seasons, and it is a sad pity that Trovatore did not get the Waterloo Cup, £200. There is no better courser than Mr. Thompson. Old Effort has gone, leaving Portland to support his stud-fame as well as he can. He was very fast, but too often let his opponent score in the middle of a course, and then came up to save it. He did so more especially with Barman and Prizefighter at Hampton Court; and professional judges do not remember him so fondly as Romping Girl, who also died last month. She had not the splendid, and almost peculiar, drive of her daughter Restless Girl, who used to take possession of her hare and never let her opponent get in. Her finest course for pace was with Kingwater in a pasture field at Craufurd-John, for the Douglas Cup. It was a very long slip, and they ran neck and neck; then Romping Girl drew out, and had the first turn, Kingwater the next, and Romping Girl the third; and then she raced past him, and ran her hare to a stand- still. Up to the 22nd, Her Majesty's Buckhounds had hunted 38 days this season, and had been stopped for eight by frost and snow. It has been a very capital season, and His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales has been out with them four times, but on the first three occasions the sport was not first-rate. Of course Harry King took good deer; but they would not run straight, as they are wont to do, and "kept turning back as if they were proud of showing themselves to royalty." On the fourth occasion, Yately (the deer which gave them the extraordinary run on November 27th, from Farnham Common) ran straight and well from Brick Bridge. "The Doctor" gave them a rare thing from Wokingham on March 1st. In fact, with the exception of the three first days with the Prince, when the deer were not in their usual "bang-away humour," the runs have all been good.

The fox and the deer (Red Rover) ran side by side for nearly a quarter of a mile, across Chalfont Park (Mr. Hibburt's) and into the cover, where the deer turned short to the right, and the fox to the left. The hounds never got a view of the fox, neither did they falter in the least, when both went into the cover at nearly the same spot, but turned beautifully to the line of the deer, and took him through it. "The Doctor" and "Yately" are quite the paddock cracks of the season. The Farnham day deserves its own gazette.

November 27th, met at Farnham Common, and turned out Yately near the Yew Trce. He was immediately headed back into Burnham Beeches, and after three or four ineffectual efforts to break, in consequence of the Beeches being surrounded by horsemen, he slipped away at last by Starve-All Farm, Dawley Bottom, and on leaving Beaconsfield, to the left, through Wilton Park, Ledbury's, Coleshill Spinney, and up nearly to Hop End, and Wycombe Heath, then short to the right, through Shardeloes Park (where one of the young Mr. Drakes joined in on a piebald pony, and went nearly to Tring before be was choked off). From Shardeloes, he crossed the water and turnpike road by Piper's Wood, and skirted Chesham Town to Bellingdon, Brazier's End, Cholesbury Common, and threaded the wood o Tring, where he ran through Mr. Dawes's barn at West Leith, near Tring.