79 



CHAPTER IV. 



" 'Twas Strafford raised his sand-glass, and Thornton held the pen, 

 When to a Windsor coffee-room nocked scores of Shorthorn men. 

 They crowded round the table, they fairly blocked the door — 

 He stood champagne, did Sheldon, of Geneva, Illinois. 

 They talked of Oxford heifers, Duchess bulls, and how the States 

 Had come into the market with another ' Bit of Bates.' 

 Their expression is so solemn, and so earnest is their tone, 

 That nought would seem worth living for but ' Red and White and 



Roan. ' 

 All ready for the contest, I view a dauntless three — 

 The Mcintosh from Essex, a canny chiel is he. 



There's Leneyfrom the hop-yards— 'twill be strange if he knocks under, 

 When once the chords are wakened of that Kentish ' Son of Thunder.' 

 The Talleyrand of ' trainers' is their 'cute but modest foe, 

 Him whom the gods call ' Culshaw,' and men on earth call 'Joe.' 

 He loves them ' points all over, ' with bright dew on the nose ; 

 And in his heart of hearts is writ, ' A touch of Bar?npton Rose. ' 

 And, sure, it well might puzzle ' The Gentleman in Black,' 

 When the three nod on ' by twenties,' to know which you should back ! 

 And, sure, the laws of Nature must have burst each ancient bound, 

 When a yearling heifer fetches more than seven hundred pound ! 

 Bulls bring their weight in bullion, and I guess we'll hear of more 

 Arriving from the pastures of Geneva, Illinois." 



"The Golden Shorthorns." — Punch. 



Whitehall— Killhow Sale of Shorthorns— Scaleby Castle— The Western 

 Plain of Cumberland — Mr. Watson's and the late Mr. Brown's Pigs 

 — Mr. Curwen's Agricultural Gathering at the Schooze Farm- 

 Champion Bulls — The late Captain Spencer's Greyhounds. 



WE have approached " Merrie Carlisle" by the 

 North, and we must make note-book forays 

 from it — west, south, and east — ere we leave it. 

 Skiddaw had got her wonted rain-signal from CrifTeli 

 that day, and we met with a curious student of 

 meteorology on our way to Mr. George Moore's. He 

 got into the train at Wigton, and desired to commu- 

 nicate. His language was very dark, and somewhat 

 on this wise : " Wind's in sou'-west ; noo, it's gatting 



