graceful and beautiful. One of the most elegant steppers, and happy as well as good-looking girls we ever saw, was waiting maid at a village inn. Remember this, Mr. Herring, in your stirrup-cups and other road-side scenes. Indeed, if Mrs. llerring doesn't object, we will engage to let you have one look to judge for yourself and profit by the peep.

We are glad to be enabled to add on to this the fact that Mr. IIerring has not quite forgotten the studies he once so wholly devoted himself to. We have just seen at Messrs. Fores', in Piccadilly, four hunting subjects by him, giving a panorama of the run with fox-hounds, and promising to furnish us with the most perfect set of plates on the chase ever issued. We see, moreover, that he, as well as Ilarry Hall, is engaged to paint the great match; if the latter can go ou improving as fast as he evidently has done in his portrait of Rhodycina, exhibited this year in Suffolk Street, he must be no mean opponent. In the management of colour few will excel Mr. llall ; while his taste for the sport, and the making its home his, must gradually perfect in practice what has been so far auspiciously persevered with. There is room for both, and the great mateh has been all through too good a thing to our objecting to see it run over again.

For a comfortable stroll through, the only way to enjoy a gallery, the Society of British Artists' rooms rank amongst the first; and in these as well as at the Academy, Mr. Earle has several of his tempting little pictures, the rough terrier being still his favourite theme. He has, however, been genorally unfortunate this year in the disposition of his pictures, which are either hung too high or too low to ensure much notice --without it be from those who know what they are looking for, and then the exertion is well repaid.

At the British Institution, beyond a couple of Herring's--" The Rabbit-fancier," a kind of companion to the “ Duck Hawkers,” and * The Green Groecr's Cob,” we found one subject from Mr. Woodward, who does not shine much this year either here or in his Mazeppa scene at the Academy. Of Mr. F. Tayler's “ Children Feeding a Tame Eagle” we can speak in terms of more decided admiration : the expression of every one of the lookers-on is really wonderful for truth, and the picture altogether one of the most pleasing as well as talented of the season's show. A Mr. Davis, dating from Oxford, exhibited in Pall Mall a couple of hunting scenes--one of hounds breaking up their fox on Dartmoor, nicely arranged ; the other but a sketch, and not reaching in any way to fellowship with the “Déjeuner." Farther than Mr. Rolfe, who depicts fish a vast deal better than he does riverside scenery, we think we have nothing more to detain us here. ,

At the National Exhibition, or Portland Gallery, we are continually rensinded of the loss of poor Barraud, though his brother is one of the chief contributors. Disposing of Mr. Earle, who has sent some of his best works, we see little in our way to notice more than a very excellent study of dead game by Mr. Duffield. The plumage is astonishingly well treated, and the whole detail of the work-basket, matting, and so on, reminds the spectator not unfavourably of Mr. Lance's art.

In the Water Colour room Newton Fielding has a number of his clever sketches : while our especial favourite, the Junior Water Colour Society, confirme more and more the promise of Mr. Harrison Weir. He has a home scene here--Cows in the Water- of great mcrit. Mr. Laporte, who is more yet in our way, is, we are glad to find too, still a contributor.

It is not often the sporting reviewer is detaived long in the sculpture room : a nymph of Diana in full chase may now and then give him a passing glance, but modern sport affords little attraction for the chisel. We must, still, this year have one dive into the shades below, at the Academy, to take a last lingering look at “Baron Meyer de Rothschild, on his favourite hunter, Oscar,” and if anybody can look at the group without laughing we will forfeit our opinion forthwith. We are quite willing to allow the difficulty of manufacturing a marble hero out of a man in top boots and a “tail coat ;” but if the task is attempted we have a right to look at it, particularly when it is exhibited for that very purpose. The poor baron, who appears altogether dreadfully distressed, has got his neckcloth tied to suffocation pitch, and his hat in his hand, whether to signify he wants a little more air, or for the sake of showing (as it does) that he has got a habit of carrying his handkerchief in it, we can't say. Anything more thoroughly miserable than Baron Meyer looks, on his hunter Oscar, it would be impossible to believe in, if it wasn't for the couple and a half of hounds around him, all of which show the most melancholy and appropriate sympathy for the position their unhappy master has allowed himself to be placed in. We never felt so much inclined for a “cock-shy ” since we left school, as when contemplating this wonderful work of art by Mr. J. E. Jones ; and if that gentleman will only advise the baron to gratify our longing, we are sure neither will repent it hereafter. Fancy the statue in Don Giovanni marching down in a Brummel-tye and top-boots! It cannot be : thc costume must beat you, Mr. Jones.

ADVENTURES OF A HARE ; WITH ANECDOTES OF

IIIS MANY FRIENDS.

EDITED BY SARON.

CHAP. II.

Ascot Raccs- I nearly fall a Victim to Superstition-The Gipsy's Device- A Day

with the Foxhounds-Death of Reynard-The young Etonian-Providential Escape.

Ascot Heath on the Cup day, when the weather is propitious, is, or rather was, one of the finest sights that can be conceived. We talk of the past, for the railway has done considerable damage to the present, by adding to the quantity and diminishing the quality. To witness a youthful Sovereign, surrounded by a devoted husband and a loving offspring, without escort or guards, making their way peacefully through a throng of thousands of her subjects, the air reverberating with their heartfelt cheers, is a purely English picture of domestic happiness and loyalty, which cannot be met with in any other part of the globe. The cortège, too, is one that cannot fail to be admircd--the admirably built carriages, the fine borses, the neatly-dressed postilions and servants, headed by the Master of the Buckhounds on his blood steed“ witching the world with noble horsemanship,” and attended by his huntsman and whippers-in, are all in perfect taste. The well-appointed carriages are filled with some of the fairest of Albion's daughters, beaming with youth and health ; while warriors, senators, and distinguished foreigners join in the happy train. Another loud hurrah is raised, and, like the gathering of Clan Alpine, is responded to by all, of every rank and station; the handkerchiefs of the gentler sex flutter in the summer breeze, and Wellington! is the cry. The hero, the “conqueror of conquerors," modestly acknowledges the homage paid to his brilliant military serviccs; an open carriage, conveying some of the attendant courtiers, dressed in the Windsor uniform-blue frock coats with red collarsexcites the risible faculties of the populace, and the similarity of their costume to that of the useful body of men, the London district lettercarriers, calls forth an occasional jest "You have not got a letter for me?” “Where's your gold-laced hat?” “Postage one penny !" " I'll not forget your Christmas-box !" and other jocosities escape from the lips of the holiday revellers.

To a foreigner, perhaps, the life that is going on in every part of the heath is more amusing than the course itself. The Royal Pavilion, a sort of “ Court Circular,” with its luncheon containing every luxury of the season, spread in Tippoo Saib's tent, is particularly delightful to the privileged few who have the entrée. The Grand Stand filled with welldressed ladies, decked out in variegated colours, gives the spectator the idea of a bed of tulips. The building devoted to the Jockey Club and their betters resembles the Stock Exchange on a day of excitement. The judge's private box, and the enclosure for the jockeys, give an air of business to the whole. The quadruple lines of vehicles, comprising the emblazoned family carriage, the elegant barouche, the neat chariot, the fashionable landau, the sporting “ drag,” the snug britchka, the unassuming tilbury, the “ Tom-and-Jerry” dog-cart, the lumbering waggon, the laurel-decked van, and the Whitechapel cart, filled with every class of patrician and plebeian, add greatly to the scene. There may be seen the aristocratic pillars of the State, and the Corinthian blood; the antiquated London dowager, with her attenuated sickly progeny ; and the fresh, ruddy, lowborn country beauty ; the turbanned Turk ; and the “cadger” from the east ; the west-end exquisite ; and the Hounsditch “ fence.” The stalls, too, with their varied ware, gingerbread nuts, toys, lollypops, dolls, china and glass, the lotteries and the targets for nuts, and last not least, the refreshment-booths, from that of Judge Nicholson, of the “ Garrick's Head," down to the Lilliputian perambulating ones of the vendors of fried fish, roast potatoes, fruit pies, or “pologne,” give animation to the whole. Nor should the wanderers of this and other countries be passed unnoticed-the dark-haired, black-eyed gipsy, deep in palmistry, crossing the hand with silver, and telling tales of hope and love ; the coarse over-grown Dutch women and girls, with their croaking voices and diminutive brooms; the poor Italian minstrel from the land of clear skies and song, sighing over his painful pilgrimage in a country where the bright luminary rarely shines, and the voice of melody is seldom heard ; the Æthiopian melodists, who, if plunged in one of the baths for the million, would soon prove the fallacy of the saying, that you cannot wash the blackamoor white ; the antipodean posture-masters, with their stunted and apparently jointless children ; the magicians of the east, west, north, and south, with their wizard tricks; the stilted daughters from the Landes in France; the Ilighland lasses! from the purlicus of St. Giles's, with tartan dress and tambourine ; and sons of the heather, kilted to the knee, with droning bagpipes, who never yet had crossed the border ; Billy Barlow, and other grotesques, indulging in questionable harmony and worn-out jocosities. The bell now rings, and it would appear that it is what Byron describes as

“ The tocsin of the soul-tic dinner-1011;" for although it is in reality only sounded preparatory to clearing the course, it produces so power ful an effect upon the gastronomic organs of the hungry visitors, that every one simultaneously commences to prepare his own first course. IIampers are now unpacked, and their contents laid out with ostentation or simplicity, as the case may be. The snow-white tablecloth, the coronetted china plates, the silver knives and forks, the lobster-and-chicken salads, the cold foreign and Englislı pies, the sparkling champagne, iced cup and Seltzer water, exposed to view on the roof of the fashionable “ drag," form a strong contrast to the unpretending repast of the rural occupants of Farmer Havelock's waggon, who content themselves with pure white homemade bread, their own dairy cheese, bacon cured on the estate, and old October ale. To the poor mendicants it is a day of feasting, for they revel on the remains of the sumptuous luncheon : and it is curious to watch the countenances of some half-famislied family, as they devour with no great gusto the scraps of fish, flesh, and fowl, dressed in the richest sauces, to suit the panipered appetites of the rich, or to witness tlie faces they make as they drink the dregs of some iced luxury, which to their unsophisticated minds is much too cold to suit their plebeian stomachs. But I have digressed in favour of this justly-celebrated meeting, and must return to my own personal narrative

After a most agrecable day, I returned in the cool of the evening to my royal residence, but not entirely without adventure. It seems that, besides the ancient superstition attached to the crossing of the path by any of my race, there is also a belief that the running of one along the street or main-way of a village portends fire to some house in the neighbourhood. In order, then, to shorten the distance from Ascot leath to Virginia Water, I passed through a small hamlet, the name of which now escapes my memory. Just as I reached the skirts of it, a young farmer espied me.

“ A magpic in the morning, and Pussy in the afternoon, forebodes bad luck!” said the superstitious cultivator of the soil. “I'll see if I can't put an end to your career."

With this he was about to take down his old single-barrelled gun, and was in the act of priming it, when a dense volume of smoke burst forth from the adjoining building, which was alınost instantaneously in flames. The sudden breaking-out of the fire had so completely paralyzed the

efforts of my enemy, that he let his fowling-piece drop to the ground, and for the moment stood motionless. Awed by the realization of his fears, the cry of help from the inmates of the dwelling soon restored him to his senses. Before, however, he could obtain the aid of the villagers, the burning fabric had fallen with a crash, thus fulfilling the unfortunate prediction attached to my ill-fated appearance. In the mean time I had escaped unseen from the scene of devastation, and was approaching my lodge-gates, when my eyes caught the glance of a young dark imp of the gipsy tribe, who was stealthily crawling along under some bushes, armed with a huge horse-pistol, which he had borrowed from a boy employed to frighten the birds from the strawberry-beds. A blackbird was enjoying some of this forbidden fruit, when the urchin who was watching the garden urged his companion to fire and frigh'en away the intruder ; but the juvenile descendant of the Gitano tribe scorned so mean a prey; and loading the barrel with two small pebbles, a button, and a piece of lead, with a strip from his tattered hat for wadding, rammed down these projectiles with the air of a sportsman, and raised the murderous weapon to a level with my head. To remain to be destroyed in cold blood was beyond my powers of endurance, so I looked round for the best means of escape: in the mean time I must do the wanderer the justice to say that he scorned to take an undue advantage by firing at me sitting, and only waited his opportunity to carry off his prize with flying colours. It was an awful moment of painful suspense ; there seemeil no way of averting the impending danger, when, happily for me, I was saved by a fortuitous circumstance, and for which I felt, and shall ever feel, grateful to that ill-used degenerate race whose voice once rebuked the erring prophet, and whose jawbone did so much havoc in the slaughter of the Philistines. One of these patient animals had been fastened by a tolerably long cord to the stump of a yew-tree, to prevent his trespassing upon certain manorial rights, which, as had often been the case, led to impoundnient: he was indulging in that human as well as asining luxury of rolling in some new-cut hay, under a hot June sun, when a noisy party of horsemen came scampering across thecommon from the races, elated with the juice of the grape.

“ Ware horse !” cried one, as with a hunting-whip he made a cat at the donkey, wlio, in trying to evade the lash, recovered his legs, and, scared by the unforeseen attack, went to the length of his tether. In this hasty movement the cord came in contact with the recumbent gipsy, and dragged him several yards. I watched my opportunity, and although the bright sharp eyes of my foc were still intensely fixed upon his prey, I, with the quickness of lightning, made a sudden start, and before the youth could extricate himself from the fatal noose, gained my hiding-place. A second later, and I should not have lived to tell the tale, for the shot took effect within a yard of me, covering me with the dirt that the missiles had ploughed up. For the next few days I was confined to my grassy couch with a violent palpitation of the leart, and it was not until the departure of the gipsies that I recovered my nerves sufficiently to venture out. It was fortunate for me that I came to this resolution, as the young urchin who had made the attempt upon my life had vowed vengeance against myself and any of my unhappy race. For nearly eight-and-forty hours my persecutor practised every wily