THE DAILY LIFE OF OUR FARM. 105 



skipping around the ring, a mossy-coated, substantial 

 youngster, showing exceeding quality, in two minutes 

 knocked down to the name that boasted " Exquisite " 

 (Lord Spencer) for 430 guineas. 



"'Spose that 'un takes to scouring?" growled a 

 butcher at our elbow. 



True to his instincts, Mr. Eastwood secured for a 

 moderate sum, one of which I noted " a small head, 

 very racing-looking — stepped like a thorough-bred — a 

 strong loin, and short level back ; " and then came a 

 white one on the scene. 



"I'm not prejudiced against white, sir," confiden- 

 tially whispered an unknown but shrewd Shorthorn 

 authority behind me, from whom I sucked between the 

 sales, parenthetically, many an anecdote of the earlier 

 crosses and favourite families ; " and I know that Joe 

 Culshaw considers that colour to have turned out some 

 of the best and truest-shaped things he ever had to 

 exhibit : they are hardy enough too, sir." 



And this bidding, I assure my friends, was not the 

 bidding of novices or nincompoops. Grave, stern calcu- 

 lating countenances of canny Scot and serious Saxon, 

 masked many a brain that might on occasion serve 

 even a Chancellor of the Exchequer. Tenant-farmer, 

 peer, banker, brewer, baronet, and manufacturer — all 

 and each were ably represented on this famous day, to 

 which men went down under strong excitement, as to 

 the fight at Farnborough. I am considered no longer, 

 I am thankful to think, the unmitigated lunatic they 

 did think me, for drawing at the fountain-head, and I 

 shall henceforth dilate with satisfaction on the beauties 

 and the pedigree of the white, red, and roan. But 

 Shorthorns, avaunt ! or I shall dream of ye ! 



