71 



MY FIRST STEEPLE-CHASER. 



• The merry men of Lincolnshire were foremost in the fray, 



"VNhen 'Walker* rode the 'Gaylad/ and 'Skipworth' steered the grey; 

 Over any line of country ' Old Discount ' was a trump. 



And only felt at discount in * the mare's' rear round the clump." 



I oxcE heard an old gentleman, when complaining bitterly of his 

 son's extravagances at Oxford, wind up a long tirade against 

 picture-dealers, dog-dealers, horse-dealers, and all otlier dealers, by 

 declaring energetically that he thanked God he had never possessed 

 a taste of any kind in his life. Now I have no doubt, on an abstract 

 view of the case, he was right, for doubtless to indulge in any taste 

 (unless it is that of money-making) dips sadly into a man's pockets, 

 and perhaps, after all, those men will rub through life tlie easier 

 who have not a single taste to gratify. It is true, nevertheless, that 

 such men must be looked upon as mere automatons in tlie great 

 drama of hfe, and as such are certainly more to be pitied tlian 

 envied. 



Now I will suppose that scarcely one of my readers agrees with 

 this old gentleman, but I will, nevertheless, ask him one question, 

 which is — Has he ever indulged in a taste for screw deahng ? If he 

 does so, I wiU candidly ask such a one whether he has not taken 

 more interest in watching tlie progress of that one screw (for, screw 

 as he may be, the owner always fondly believes tliat there is a 

 hidden value in him) than in all the rest of his stud, whose capa- 

 bilities he knows to a pound ? There is a sort of mystery attached 

 to the screw which is truly delightful. His greatest charm hes in 

 his very imsoundness, and, " Oh ! if I could but only get this one 

 right, what a plater or hurdle-racer he would make !" is tlie ownei's 

 constant theme. 



