108 THE HOESE AND HIS EIDER. 



out of ten it might truly be answered " A Bi^iton," 

 who, in apparent desperation, has sought refuge in the 

 clouds, in the region of eternal snow, or in the briny deep, 

 in order to get away from his " dulce domum," and from 

 " the riofht little, tight little island " that contains it. 



In almost every instance the home he has deserted is, 

 comparatively speaking, replete with luxury and com- 

 fort; and yet, from stuffed sofas, easy chairs, feather 

 beds, soft mattresses, warm fires, good carpets, a well- 

 stocked library, cellar, larder, and dairy, flower and fruit 

 gardens, carriages on buoyant springs, a stud of horses, 

 faithful servants, and friendly neighbours, he has fled, 

 with, in one pocket, a purse which, wherever he stops, 

 by everybody is to be plundered; and in the other a 

 passport, not to happiness, but to every description of 

 what he has been educated to consider as a discomfort, 

 simply because, instead of being homesick, he has become 

 sick, almost unto death, of his " home" 



Now, with these facts before us, which nobody can 

 deny, it is strange to reflect that while man, from all 

 parts of the United Kingdom, is to be seen centrifugally 

 flying from his domicile, the horse's love for his stable 

 is a flame which brightens as it burns, and which 

 nothing but death can extinguish. 



Those who have not studied or even observed the pro- 

 pensities of a horse, fancy that when, like a galley slave 



