246 REMINISCENCES OF SONEPOEE, 



The lungs with the living gas grow light, 



And the limbs feel the strength of ten ; 



And the chest expands with its maddening might, 



God's glorious oxygen. 



Thus the measured stroke on elastic sward, 

 Of the steed three parts extended ; 

 Hard held, the breath of his nostrils broad. 

 With the golden ether blended. 



Then the leap, the rise from the springy turf, 

 The rush through the buoyant air ; 

 And the light shock landing the veriest serf, 

 Is an Emperor then and there. 



" None save those who have ridden and loved it, can com- 

 prehend the ecstacy of a stern steeplechase fought out to the 

 last. Although Colonel Turubull did not in his latter days ride 

 himself, he was no mean horseman, and after a pig or over a 

 country he was bad to beat. He had the love of the horse 

 born in him, and as a leader of Indian sport, a greater favorite 

 could not have existed, for he was universally trusted and 

 loved. He virtually edited for some time our then only sport- 

 ing organ The Oriental Sporting Magazine and to him 

 everyone turned for aid and advice. Curiously enough tailors 

 had a lot to do with the Turf then, for Major Turnbull was 

 head of the Army Clothing Department, the Clerk of the 

 Course was his head assistant, Mr. Pritchard, and the Starter 

 that prince of sportsmen, the Poole of those days, Mr. Wallace, 

 the fashionable sartorial artist, who with horses of his own 

 breeding won two or three Viceroy's Cups. There have been 

 few better lady riders in India than Mrs. Turnbull, who was 

 a Miss Apperley, a daughter of the mighty " Nimrod." Horace 

 Hayes says of her : 



" ' Mrs. Turbull was one of the most accomplished horse- 

 women we have ever had in the East- Her brilliant riding stoocl 



