XXXIII 



COME with me across the ocean. If thou fearest the 

 sickness of the sea, friend, come with me but in spirit, for 

 old Neptune hath ordained that the particular part of his 

 domain which is the most frequently crossed, the North 

 Atlantic, shall be the most constantly stormy. It is thus 

 he punishes him who dares his authority by ploughing 

 through his purple waters. I wonder whether the an- 

 cients sacrificed to the fishes any the less for sacrificing 

 to Neptune before they went aboard. However this may 

 have been, libations poured out to the grizzly God of the 

 Trident were assuredly less foolish than many nostrums 

 against sea-sickness in our own day and generation. 



Well, here we are in England. Mother - country, all 

 hail! Years have I tasted thy bounteous hospitality, 

 hearty thanks have I laid at thy feet ! And as I am about 

 to speak of thy horsemen, I begin by a cordial bow of 

 admiration, for they are truly to be admired, in the good 

 old Latin sense. 



I will but take the chair, as it were, and begin by in- 

 troducing better speakers. Says my ancient comrade, 

 Colonel Edward L. Anderson of the fighting Andersons, 

 and once of General Sherman's staff in that most author- 

 itative of modern series, the Britannica of sports, the Bad- 

 minton Library, to wit : " In breeding horses, in rearing 

 and in caring for them, in racing them and in riding them 

 across country, the Englishman is easily first." To which 

 I say amen. In the same volume (Riding and Polo), one 



