BRITISH TURF. 569 



cold meat of the preceding day, most exquisite 

 Gloucester cheese, fine white bread, and con- 

 cluded with plentiful draughts of table beer. All 

 this did not overload the stomach, or in the least 

 deprive me of my youthful activity, except, that 

 like others, I might sometimes take a nap for an 

 hour, after so small a portion of sleep. 



*' For my own part, so total and striking was 

 the change which had taken place in my situation, 

 that I could not but feel it very sensibly. I was 

 more conscious of it than most boys would have 

 been, and, therefore, not a little satisfied. The 

 former part of my life had most of it been spent 

 in turmoil, and often in singular wretchedness. I 

 had been exposed to every want, every weariness, 

 and every occasion of despondency, except that such 

 poor sufferers become reconciled to, and almost 

 insensible of suffering, and boyhood and beggary 

 are fortunately not prone to despond. Happy had 

 been the meal where I had enough ; rich to me 

 was the rag that kept me warm ; and heavenly the 

 pillow, no matter what, or how hard, on which 

 I could lay my head to sleep. Now I was warmly 

 clothed, nay, gorgeously, for I was proud of my 

 new livery, and never suspected there was disgrace 

 in it ; I fed voluptuously, not a prince on earth 

 perhaps with half the appetite, and never-faihng 

 relish ; and instead of being obliged to drag 

 through the dirt after the most sluggish, obstinate, 

 and despised among our animals, I was mounted 



