much we may reprobate the sentiment. We offer no apology for here quoting a verse of a love-song, which we feel sure none of the readers of Baily' will object to, coming as it does from a poet whom we so delight to honour :

'No, Monsieur, no; it is not so:

The heart may die, but it never grows old.
So long as the pulses leap and glow,

The tale of our trouble is yet to be told.

The boat swims on if the cargo sink;

The liquor is sweet though we thirst no more;

And I cannot but think, were your lip to the brink,

You would drink again as you drank before.'

In due course the charm ripens into still stronger bonds, and Mademoiselle receives a patent of nobility as Madame la Duchesse de Vaujour, and is saluted accordingly. In the troubles and difficulties that assail her under these altered circumstances, all are chronicled with a master hand, as will be readily guessed; but one of the most impressive incidents in the whole book is where the young duchess makes her obeisance to the Queen Maria Thérèsa. We will let Mr. Whyte-Melville speak for himself:-For certain armies military 'discipline has established a punishment called "running the gauntlet," wherein a culprit passes between the ranks of his regiment while each comrade delivers a blow. The new duchess gained some experience of its severity as she traversed a large and crowded saloon to make her obeisance to the queen. Those who watched her majesty-and they were many-did not fail to ' notice that a momentary shadow darkened her brow, while in the beautiful Spanish eyes there came a troubled look of pain, regret, and reproach; but already the sorrows of her young life had taught Maria Thérèsa that even royalty must not expect happiness in this lower world; and a tender, kindly heart, schooled in adversity, while sustained by religion, had clothed her ' with that Christian charity which resolves to observe no beam of evil so long as it can see the slightest mote of good.' The scene changes, and then comes the crowning abasement of the king's perfidy, in taking to himself another favourite. The unfortunate duchess, who has been but the plaything of an hour, seeks consolation and expiation in devoting her future life to the cloister. When, at last, the curtain falls, we cannot help a feeling of sadness creeping over us that the tale should have ended as it does. The book is beautifully illustrated, and although, as we said at the outset, the theme takes a different line of country to that we have hitherto gone with the author, we cannot deny that between the covers there is food for reflection that will last for many a day, and we commend our readers to peruse for themselves.

The hound-poisoning culprit in Lord Middleton's county has confessed his guilt and got his reward. The strange part of the story is that the man was one of Sir George Wombwell's under-keepers, had been on the Newburgh estate for twenty-nine years, and hitherto had borne an excellent character. The annoyance to such a well-known sportsman as Sir George may be well imagined. He at once offered a reward of 251. for the discovery of the perpetrator of the act, but at first without success, until the police obtained some clue, went to the keeper's house, and then out came the confession. Of Course Sir George Wombwell at once discharged him, and we believe Lord Middleton intends prosecuting him for laying down poison. The question naturally arises, what were the man's motives, and had he not some one behind him who, from spite or enmity towards Lord Middleton or Sir George, or both, egged him on to this deed? We sympathise much with his popular

master, to whom the affair must have been a terrible nuisance. But we trust we shall hear no more of hound-poisoning, unless, indeed, Mr. North (the poisoner's name) should take his talents for this sort of thing into Northamptonshire and offer them to the Hon. and Rev. Francis Tollemache.

Mr. Musters having announced his intention to resign the South Notts country at the end of the season, and Mr. Rolleston having agreed to take it, the county, and let us add too town, of Nottingham has come liberally to the rescue. At a meeting towards the latter end of January, held in the Shire Hall, 1,400/. a-year was guaranteed at once; and three gentlemen, not unknown to fame in racing circles-Mr. Billy' Nicholl, Mr. Jack' Robinson, and Mr. Bob' Howett-promised each of them 100l. a year. More power to them!

And here, though not a hunting anecdote, we must let our readers have the description that a well-known bookmaker (perhaps he does not live so very far from Nottingham) gave a friend of ours of the class of gentlemen called 'spring captains' :-They comes to Lincoln, and out they pulls their shirt'sleeves, writes down the bets as fast as ever they can, and if they wins, up 'they come on Monday so glad to see you, collars the money, and off to the ' next meeting. But if they loses, why, lor' bless you! they sends their shirts to the wash, and forgets all about it.'

to.

We have all regretted the unpleasant occurrences in the V.W.H. country, and sympathised with Lord Shannon on the annoyance he has been subjected Most of our readers doubtless saw, in the 'Field' and other papers, the full account of the proceedings at a public meeting of subscribers to the hunt held at Cirencester on the 17th of last month; and any one who had some knowledge of the inner life of that country, and could read between the lines, would, perhaps, have made a shrewd guess at the individuality of Red Coat.' Indeed one gallant officer, Colonel Perry Keane, when he said that he trusted Lord Shannon would not care a fig for anything said of him by Red Coat,' Blue Coat,' Black Coat,' or Petticoat,' drew forth such cheers and shouts of laughter that his voice was fairly drowned. Women have troubled Israel before now, and will trouble it again; and that the trouble brought on the V.W.H. is the handiwork of a woman, few in that country seem to doubt. We can only hope, therefore, that in face of such a weak opponent, and in the presence of the strong feeling expressed by the meeting we have referred to, Lord Shannon may be induced to withdraw his resignation. We cordially join with Colonel Keane in hoping that the noble Master will not be daunted by 'coat' of colour or any form. Red Coat,' after all, may turn out only any to be a scarlet runner clinging to a weak pole.

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We come across some curious hunting intelligence now and then; and in the columns of a sporting paper which shall be nameless, the date the 26th of January, we found, under the head of Hunting,' a notice that the first meet'ing of the Fox Club this year will take place at Brooks's on the 12th of February.' Poor Charles James! A few weeks ago we remember seeing in the World' that some sporting writer had made Byron a product of the Lake school. This was funny, but that the Fox Club should be a hunting institution is funnier still.

We are enabled to state that the Baron's staghounds will go out on the 7th of this month; they will not be advertised at present, but the Baron, with the feeling that all hunting men will appreciate, is desirous that the pleasures of the farmers and others in the Vale of Aylesbury should be interfered with as little as possible. As regards the racehorses left by the late Sir Anthony de

Rothschild to his brother, Baron Lionel, nothing has yet been done about them. We can only say, and we are sure that we are but giving utterance to the general feeling of the racing world, that we should much regret the disappearance from the Calendar of the old colours, the blue and yellow.'

We can vouch for the truth of the following:-A noble lord of hunting notoriety was obliged, on a late occasion, to hunt his pack himself, in the absence of his huntsman, who had met with an accident. After a good run his fox was brought to hand. A cockney sportsman, unknown in the country, then presented himself, and remarked to his lordship, I'll give you half a 'sovereign for the brush.' 'Give it me, then,' said the Peer. No, no,' was the answer; you give me the brush first. Those who know the urbane qualities and choice vocabulary at command of the noble Master may be left to imagine his appreciation of the compliment thus paid to his integrity.

We may now place before our readers the solution of the Latin puzzle given in our December Van,' which will read as follows: :

I say, Billy, here's a go,
Forty busses in a row.

No, Billy, this be forty trucks;

See vot is in 'em-peas and ducks.

The delay in the appearance of the above may be accounted for by the enormous number of (mostly incorrect) solutions which have poured in upon us during the last two months, rendering it quite impossible to do justice to each singulatim; but we may mention that correct answers have been received from Deaf Burke,' Currant Jelly at Brighton,' ‹ Backsheesh,' 'The Erlwood Idiots,' Holy Joe, Old King Cole,' 'A Belgravian Mother,' and 'Tommy come tickle Me.' While among the host of failures we may point out that Dr. Hornby's solution, though correct in the main, was faulty in a grammatical point of view; the Rev. Voysey's was misspelt, while the Archbishop of Canterbury's was couched in language unsuited to the majority of the readers of Baily."

Apropos of an article on Quail-Shooting near the Pyramids,' which will appear in next month's Baily,' we hear from Cairo that the Prince of Wales is very desirous to spend, if possible, a week or ten days there on his way home, for quail-shooting. And here, too, we may mention the pleasure it has given all classes of racing men to see H.R.H.'s colours inserted in the volume of the Calendar of this year. The purple body and gold braid, scarlet sleeves, and velvet cap with gold fringe, recall old days, and we trust to see them not alone in the pages of Weatherby, but borne in the van at Newmarket and elsewhere.

THE NEW JONK PUBLIC LIBRARY

ASTOR, LENOX AND TIDEN FOUNDATIONS.