CAPTAIN SHABBYHOUNDE 251 



said, nothing would serve him but he would put Milksop on 

 Lambkin. If the generality of the Captain's horses had only 

 been as good on their legs as they were in their wind, they 

 would have been invaluable, and Lambkin, for a wonder, was 

 perfect in both. He had gone the run stoutly and well, was 

 still as gay as a lark, and, with Milksop's lighter weight upon 

 him, bounded off like an arrow from the bow. Lambkin never 

 thought of trying to kick Milksop off — that was only a home 

 exploit ; on the contrary, he scuttled away, and very soon was 

 well with the hounds again. 



Naseby Field used to be rather deep in those days — it may 

 be so still, for aught we know — and after a fair trial, over sound 

 springy pastures. Milksop found Lambkin had the knack of 

 getting his hind legs well under him, and of going through deep 

 also. What a luxury that is ! How delightful to feel the hind 

 quarters throwing the fore ones on, treading the water, as it 

 were, instead of the floundering deeper and deeper still, lob, lob, 

 lobbing, grunting, groaning, sobbing, sighing, hammer-and- 

 pincering of the mere turf strider. 



Give us the horse that can go in deep as well as on grass, the 

 nag that can creep as well as fly, and we will throw extreme 

 pace to " Bunbury,"* to divide among the Jockey Club. 



Forrard ! forrard! that inspiriting cheer to the fresh — that 

 tantalizing mockery to the he^a^.— forrard ! forrard ! was still 

 the cry, and Lambkin responded to it vigorously. 



The Honourable Julius Milksop being in 

 "The morning of life," 

 as the elegant Dr. Goss sublimely sings, when 



" Middling horse-flesh takes the reason prisoner,"' 



it will not surprise our ancient readers to learn that he soon 

 found out there was a considerable difference between the 

 horse he was on and the one he had been riding, nor was the 



* The great turf writer of the present day. 



