THE STABLE IN A EEOST. 



A VISIT to one^s stable is a pleasant thing on a mild 

 winter^s evening, with perhaps a light rain beginning to 

 fall, a promise alike of a wet night and a fine day for the 

 morrow^s fixture. Under these circumstances there is no 

 small satisfaction to be obtained (the pleasures of Hope 

 being confessedly superior to those of Memory) from the 

 inspection of the favourite, on the back of which, by the 

 kind permission of the stud groom, one contemplates a 

 performance on the morrow — to look at him as he pre- 

 sents his well-squared tail to view, his head being half 

 concealed in the manger, and to speculate, hoping the 

 while for the best, as to whether a sufficient proportion 

 of intimate friends will have the opportunity of regarding 

 him from the same point of view next day. 



Few places look more cosy than a well-littered loose 

 box at such a time, the very bloom on the horse^s quarters 

 suggesting notions of warmth and comfort, besides con- 

 dition ; ditto the demeanour of the stable cat, who sits 

 perfectly still in a corner, or even on the back of the 

 flier, with the grave air of one who, perfectly snug and 

 happy himself, can yet give an occasional pitying thought 

 to the lot of less favoured creatures. But with what 

 different feelings, in a frost, does the owner of a stud 

 shp and skate across the yard to pay a visit of duty to 

 his animals! Buckets full of ice are only cheerful objects 

 when they are seen in the company of champagne bottles; 

 and the other inanimate furniture of a stable yard is 



