NEWMARKET 205 



stantly to be seen got up as a clergyman of the 

 Church ; and really, if you judged him by a passing 

 glance, you would think he was some indefatigable 

 pastor going to visit some sick member of his flock ; 

 but if you looked closely at him, you would see that 

 if he had a flock it would be uncommonly closely 

 shorn. He might more correctly be termed " a 

 Baptist," so often has he received the rite by total 

 immersion in a horse-pond, stable-lads being the 

 ofnciating^ministers, and the frogs at the bottom his 

 sponsors. 



But there is " a thorn in every rose," and there 

 is a very large one at Newmarket in the shape of a 

 church, with a squat square tower containing a peal 

 of the most abominable bells in England, I should 

 think ; they are all about a semitone out of tune, 

 and the 4 effect is aggravating past description — far 

 worse than the ding-dong-spat of the three bells you 

 so often hear in old-fashioned village churches, 

 where two of the bells have no relation in tone to 

 one another, and the third is cracked. These 

 wretched things jangle and clash for, I should 

 think, half an hour every day about eleven ; and I 

 find the idea among the aborigines is that they are 

 playing a tune, but the effect of the performance on 

 a musical ear is excruciating. But, apart from this, 

 few pleasanter places can be found at which to pass 



