REVIEW — THE POCKET AND THE STUD. 
643 
they fall dead. All which “falls” or failures render horseflesh 
— and particularly unseasoned horseflesh — extremely precarious 
property. And, moreover, it is property we cannot insure ; at 
least, we know of no establishment which has felt “ assurance” 
sufficient to launch into so novel and “ doubly hazardous” an 
undertaking. Momentous considerations such as these will render 
a practical w r ork like “ The Pocket and the Stud” of incalculable 
value to the owner of a stud, since in it he will find “ suggestions 
as to the best way of buying a horse ;” all he desires to know 
about “ stable management,” and all he ought to know about 
“ different kinds of food added to which are useful hints on 
“stable economy;” on “the different value of different horses;” 
together with the “ different modes (in different countries) of keep- 
ing horses;” also on “the kind of horse best suited for different 
carriages,” &c &c. 
Thus much for our “ prologue.” And now we will give our 
facetious author’s — Harry Hieover’s — prologue to his “ Introduc- 
tion,” superscribed as it is with the lugubrious couplet, 
“ Prologue precedes the piece, in mournful verse, 
As undertakers walk before the hearse.” 
“ In these words commences the prologue to a play : why should 
they not serve for an introduction to this volume, — not being so 
inapt to the subject as they may at first appear 1 First, then, in com- 
mencing a preface, I am an undertaker ; and in beginning the work, 
I am an undertaker still. There is, however, this difference be- 
tween us ; I endeavour to make my work go on as cheerfully as I 
possibly can — my brother undertaker makes his proceed as mourn- 
fully as possible. He feels it his duty to walk before his work ; 
whereas I see no advantage in my walking before mine, though I 
shall feel much flattered if others will only be kind enough to walk 
after it. Not that inducing them to walk is by any means its pur- 
port ; — quite the contrary : its aim is to tell them how to ride 
with as little waste of money as possible.” 
This smacks somewhat of the immortal bard of Avon : — 
Hamlet. Whose grave’s this, sirrah 1 
Clown. Mine, sir! 
Hamlet. I think it be thine, indeed ; for thou liest in’t. 
Clown. You lie out on’t, sir ; and therefore it is not your’s : for 
my part, I do not lie in’t, yet it is mine. 
Hamlet. Thou dost lie in’t, to be in’t, and say it is thine : ’tis 
for the dead, not for the quick ; therefore thou liest. 
