COURSING 



trainers discard them altogether. Light Cavalry is 

 at the ditch side straining for the fray, and we also 

 mark the dingy face of Bethell (by Boanerges from 

 Mischief), own brother to Bab at the Bowster, and 

 the grey features of Ewesdale, not a remarkable 

 dog in his day, but now of good repute among grey- 

 hounds at the stud. The trainers are a motley lot 

 as regards dress ; but the real Altcar thing is sup- 

 posed to be a sort of seal-skin cap, with lappets 

 for the ears, and a green coat, with mother-of-pearl 

 buttons about half the circumference of a cheese- 

 plate. What Lancashire Witch can stand against 

 that ? 



* It is barely five minutes past ten, and up comes 

 Mr. Warwick, the judge, in his scarlet coat and 

 blue bird's-eye, to judge for the ninth year in suc- 

 cession. Another bit of scarlet shows that Tom 

 Raper, the slipper, has also stripped to his work. 

 He looks very worn in the face with so hard a life, 

 but the heart is as good and the legs are almost as 

 nimble as ever. We look in vain for old Will 

 Warner, but we are told that he has** turned it up." 

 The crowd thickens fast, and as far as the eye can 

 reach towards Formby, they come steadily tramping 

 on. The vehicles alone seem to stretch for more 

 than half a mile in the line of march, and half of 

 them are in the commissariat service, and laden with 

 pies, and cheese, and liquors. Many visitors carry 

 their own little polished drink barrel slung across 



57 



