BOTTLE FOR BOTTLE. 381 



The match was to be bottle against bottle — that 

 is to say, when one man's bottle was empty, the 

 other was required to finish his, and then each 

 had to begin a new one. Lord Eglinton took the 

 lead at a tremendous pace, hoping to choke his 

 antagonist before the first three bottles were con- 

 sumed. Simultaneously he kept on chatting mer- 

 rily, and laughing, as was his wont, while the 

 novice held his peace, but stuck steadfastly to his 

 task. Soon the ominous silence preserved by the 

 latter, and the perfect ease with which he held his 

 own, ' without turning a hair,' began to tell upon 

 his more loquacious antagonist, who was evidently 

 going in difficulty. 



"At last Lord Eglinton turned as pale as death, 

 and rose slowly from his chair, exclaiming, ' I can 

 do no more.' The struggle was at an end, and the 

 defeated champion retired to bed, while the novice 

 played billiards with Osbaldeston, winning two 

 games out of three against that accomplished 

 player. Next morning I had occasion to be out 

 early on horseback in order to see one of my two- 

 year -olds gallop. The first sight that met my 

 eyes on the Heath was Sir David Baird, with a 

 short black pipe full of cavendish between his 

 lips, cantering about the course on a hard-pull- 

 ing hack, with his face as stolid as usual, and 

 with obviously unclouded brow. Meantime, the 

 unhappy Eglinton was walking about in front 

 of The Rooms without his hat, which he con- 



