BEAT WITH HIS OWN WEAPONS. 249 



the next few days the rivals did not meet again. My 

 friend was driving his new barter, getting them pro- 

 perly bitted, and, in road language, pulling them 

 together. The fact was, three of these horses were 

 beyond comparison much faster than his former team ; 

 but the fourth could neither step with nor go with 

 the others. This horse he got rid of (and more of 

 him anon), and put in one to the full as fast as the 

 others: they were then one of the fastest teams in 

 London, and he made them step together like soldiers, 

 whereas before they only seemed to have been put to- 

 gether to be in each other's way. My friend now again 

 appeared in the Park, and shortly after was joined by 

 his friend and the notorious team; the same go-by 

 was now given him that he had given a short time 

 before, and doubtless his friend thought the hundred 

 he had given for the exchange was well laid out : but 

 miracles never cease : and who can control his fate ? 

 My friend permitted him to get a few carriage-lengths 

 in advance ; then put on the steam, caught his friend, 

 and passed at a good fifteen miles an hour. Had Tarn 

 O'Shanter on the grey mare, Mazeppa on the wild 

 horse, Byron's Giaour on his black steed, or Scott the 

 jock mounted on the ghost of Pegasus, passed, he 

 would have been surprised; but his surprise would 

 have been tame in comparison with his perfect 

 astonishment at the matchless style of going, and the 

 pace of his former bays. But so it was ; he was 

 beaten, and beaten hollow by his own horses. True, 

 one had been changed; but this he did not know or 

 perceive. The result ended in their again changing, 

 and my friend again receiving a hundred for so 

 doing. 



