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antagonist was imported from a far away shire, to which the fame of 

 Flowers had never reached. It came about as follows : — 



Major Wheble, as we have said, was an enthusiastic turfite and cocker. 



Now, in those days (1809) the two counties which were pre-eminently 

 famous for their combination of both these sports were Cheshire and Lanca- 

 shire. Chester and Preston were the two great centres of cocking in the 

 North. Lord Sefton, Mr. Price, of Brynprys, Captain White, Mr. Bold 

 Haughton, and Doctor Bellyse all fought at Chester. Lord Derby and Mr. 

 Legh, of Lyme, reserved tlieir cocks for the Preston mains. There was a 

 famous breed of " white piles " in Cheshire then, which carried such a 

 wonderful spur that "the Cheshire drop," which would occasionally come 

 out in a long battle, when the odds were 20 to 1, was considered as fatal as 

 " the Chifney rush." These were the cocks with which the Cholmondeleys, 

 the Egertons, the Warburtons, the Cottons, and the Koylances fought all the 

 great county mains, sometimes against each other, but more often against 

 the Mexborough and Meynell families. The Chester race meeting was 

 always a great trysting place for cockers from all parts of England. That 

 grand old English sportsman, the twelfth Earl of Derby, great-grandfather 

 of the present Earl, was always a conspicuous figure there in his gorgeous 

 family coach, drawn by six superb horses, and attended by a numerous and 

 imposing retinue. Fond as he was of seeing his home-bred horses carry the 

 black and white to victory, if it were possible for him to love anything better 

 than a thoroughbred horse, it was a thoroughbred game-cock, and the 

 Knowsley breed of black-breasted reds were deemed well-nigh invincible in 

 the North. It may be .truly said of him that he was the greatest cocker that 

 ever lived. And next to him, at no great distance, we might place another 

 familiar figure in Cheshire sport, the celebrated Dr. Bellyse, of Audlem, who 

 was not only renowned for his medical skill, but was perhaps the greatest 

 authority of his time on the pedigrees of racehorses, the rearing of grey- 

 hounds, or the breeding, training, and feeding of game-cocks. The doctor's 

 professional duties forbade his going far afield in pursuit of the sports he 

 loved, and keen as he was on horse-racing, he never in his life saw either a 

 Derby or a St. Leger run. But he was in his glory at Chester. Nothing 

 would have induced him to forego his annual week on the lloodee. 

 Patients, no matter how important their cases, had to give up all hopes of 

 seeing the Doctor for that week. On the Saturday previous to the races his 

 yellow gig with his fourteen-one, Brown Tommy, turned up as regularly as 

 the seasons themselves in the yard of the Hop Pole Inn at two o'clock in the 

 afternoon. On the Monday he sallied forth to the Hotel Row and received 

 a hearty annual welcome from the lovers of the " Turf and the Sod," to whom 

 from his quiet worth and his wonderful memory and information on every 

 point, he had become so endeared. Years wrought no change in the dress 

 or figure of this fine old Cheshire worthy, nor quenched his love for either 

 science. Everyone knew the blue dress-coat with brass buttons, the light- 

 coloured kerseys and gaiters, the buff waistcoat, the golden greyhound, the 

 gift of his friend Lord Combermere, which lent a tasteful finish to his snowy 

 frill, and the pig-tail just peeping from beneath a conical low-crowned hat, 

 which completed the attire, from which he never varied. The cock-pit began 

 at eleven, and the go-in ended soon after one ; and then, before a grand stand 

 was known, the Doctor was always to be seen stationed on Tommy in the 



