The Rev. Marmaduke Merrythought. 37 



been up very long before he found himself installed as 

 Master of the Drag. Jem Hills and he soon became fast 

 friends, you may be sure ; and at last no meet of the 

 Heythrop or Bicester seemed perfect without the sporting 

 undergraduate, who was so soon destined for the Church, 

 putting in an appearance. He was uncommonly fond too of 

 donning the silk as well as the scarlet, and many a time 

 was his smart jacket (pink with blackhoops) the first to 

 catch the judge's eye at Aylesbury, well beloved of under- 

 graduates. We rather think that it was just about that 

 period, between leaving Oxford and entering the Church, 

 that he so distinguished himself by riding his friend Sir 

 Reginald Rattlebone's brown horse Blueskin in the Liver- 

 pool Steeplechase. Uncommonly steadily and well the 

 embryo Archbishop of Canterbury rode, too, and it was 

 just on the cards that he might have won had he not been 

 cannoned against and knocked over at Becher's Brook, 

 the second time round. Captain Coper, who rode the 

 winner, told him years after that he looked so like winning 

 up to the time of his fall that he almost gave up his own 

 chance as lost. ''It ain't generally known," naively re- 

 marked the Captain with a grin — " it ain't generally known, 

 don't cher know, that I was not only riding old Peter the 

 Great, but, by Jove, I was riding the lot, sir — squared 

 'em allj every mother's son of 'em, by Jove, except you, 

 Merrythought, and I should have tried it on with you ; 

 but, to tell you the truth, I didn't think you had the ghost 

 of a chance, and until I saw you knocked over at Becher's 

 Brook (it wasn't an accident, Vm afraid, eh ?), I trembled 

 for my money, I can tell you." That memorable occasion 

 was our worthy chaplain's very last appearance in cap 

 and jacket. He took holy orders, and was duly appointed 



