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waterman. Harry Melton jumped in, and was quickly followed by Charley, still crying for his cloak. As we were all of the diminutive size, I scrambled in "bodkin," amidst the jeers of the British public, who shouted "snips, why don't you keep to your shopboard ?" "Dandees." No sooner had we gained Long Acre, than we stopped the cab. Jem was called, and told to get the cloak from under the seat. The unfortunate "tiger" shook like an aspen leaf. "Please, sir-sir." "Why, what's the matter, are you drunk or mad?" Oh, sir, such, such a misfortune. No sooner had you left the 'keb,' than a young feller 'ollows out, Why your curb chain's undone, and I'm blow'd if the rein a'nt unbuckled.' I pulled and found it was the case; down I jumps, buckles the rein, takes off the curb-chain, puts it into my pocket, gets into the 'keb,' and there, oh! oh! oh! I found that the cloak was gone. When I axed the orange women if she had seen any one about the 'keb,' she told me one of the young forty-thieves had it, called me a reg'lar flat, told me I ought never to go out without my nurse, and said if master was a liberal man he could get it back by offering a reward." We will not attempt to depict our friend's rage; but turning back to Bow Street, got the address of an intelligent "Bow Street runner" of that day, offered a reward of five pounds, and the following day the cloak was restored. Thus, by an attempt to save a shilling, Charley Combermere found himself minus six pounds-the reward being five pounds, and a pound to the intelligent thief-taker.

To return to our adventures on the evening previous to our deal. We dropped into Covent Garden Theatre half price, and saw "Katherine and Petruchio;" the Charles Kembles representing the principal characters; with the farce of "The Sleep Walker, in which poor Yates acted the part of Somno, after-and as some one said, very closely after— the manner of Charles Mathews. Here was a second price treat. "Wallace, " with Macready, Charles Kemble, and Mrs. Bunn in it, had been the first piece. And this leads us to digress, and mourn over the present state of the winter theatres. No disparagement to the present spirited lessee of Drury Lane; for he has gone with the-we were going to say march-though, perhaps, dance of intellect would be more appropriate. Look at the companies of the two major theatres in those days. At Covent Garden, in tragedy: C. Kemble, Macready, Vandenhoff; Mesdames Bunn and Faucit, Miss Dance. In comedy: C. Kemble, Jones, the Jones, W. Farren, Liston, Fawcett, Emery, Blanchard, Terry, Abbott, C. Taylor, Duruset, Connor, Farley, Grimaldi; Mesdames Davison, Gibbs, Davenport, C. Kemble, Misses Stephens, M. Tree, Foot, Beaumont, Hall and Love. At Drury Lane : Kean, Cooper, Wallack, Booth, Munden, Elleston, Harley, Knight, J. Russel, Braham, C. Horn. Among the ladies: Mesdames Glover, Harlowe, Orger, Bland; Misses Kelly, Chester, and Smithson, Madam Vestris, and Miss Wilson. In the season we allude to, Covent Garden Theatre was kept open from September 1820 to August the 7th, 1821, again to open on the 27th September. Alas! we shall never live to see those good old days again, is the fear of one who mourns over the decay of the public taste. Opera and ballet, Balfe and Carlotta Grisi, have driven Shakspeare, Sheridan, Colman and Morton from the stage.

(To be continued.).

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Dum vivimus vivamus" is a jolly rollicking motto, a regular "goa-head," dare-devil" motto, and one, moreover, singularly applicable to the sportsman; not that we mean to insinuate that a sportsman must of necessity be a "rollicker," a go-a-head, or dare-devil fellow. At the same time the keen and enthusiastic sportsman will, and does, overcome every difficulty: no obstacle deters him in the accomplishment of his object; for whether that object be old reynard's brush, the red deer's antlers, the capercalzie, blackcock, grouse, pheasant, partridge, cock, or snipe, the same laudable spirit animates him. A phlegmatic being can never be a sportsman: listlessness and apathy form no part of his composition; for there is no pursuit or pastime which calls for such untiring perseverance, energy, courage, and determination as that distinguished by the well-known term "field sports." Were we given to free translations, we should render the motto "Dum vivimus vivamus" thus-"Let us shoot while we can ;" for of all living enjoyments, or enjoyments while living, not one can be compared with shooting. By the time this little paper appears in print some thousands of grouse will have been distributed far and wide by the several parties on the moors, and partridge-shooting will have commenced.

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We are writing on the last day but one of July, and most earnestly do we hope that the flattering and cheering accounts we have received from our friends in the north will have been verified. We know not of any cause to mar their sanguine expectations. The season has been an unusually propitious one; the elements have not interfered with the progress of incubation; the broods are pronounced, nem. con.," to be strong on the wing; and the sport must be good for the packs of grouse, as well as the coveys of partridges, were never known to be so numerous. If we can spy into futurity a little, the year 1847 will be a memorable one in the sportsman's calendar: prospects were never brighter; and rare bags shall we have to boast of, ere we begin to think of cover shooting.

Those of my brother sportsmen who were so fortunate as to possess a gun made by Mr. Charles Lancaster, have to deplore, in common with all who knew him, the loss of this highly gifted and exemplary man. Beloved by his family and respected by his friends for his uncompromising integrity and private worth, he was no less esteemed and looked up to by those scientific Government officers who have ever been ready to reward merit, and bring into notice the talent and labour

To

devoted to the improvement of fire-arms. The Board of Ordnance justly appreciated Mr. Lancaster's discoveries and inventions. theory he superadded practice; and to his unwearied assiduity in bringing to perfection the rifle, musket, and fowling-piece, are we indebted for the success we command in heather, stubble, and cover. Mr. Lancaster's death must be held as a national loss; and it will ever be a subject of deep regret that he should, in the prime of life as it were, have been removed from the sphere which had benefited so largely by his useful and scientific pursuits. The encomiums passed by the commanding officers at Woolwich on one of the last of Mr. Lancaster's inventions, the conical rifle-ball, the form of which obviated the old principle of rotatory motion, will prove the estimation in which this enterprizing and meritorious individual was held. A more unassuming, unostentatious man never breathed; and certes, a cleverer artist in his vocation never exerted himself for the benefit of his fellow-men. Lancaster's guns are now beyond all price, and will be handed down to posterity as heirlooms by every sportsman in the kingdom. Lucky is the man who owns one, for such barrels as were turned out under his experienced eye are not to be met with in the world. Every man who has shot with a Lancaster gun will, and must, acknowledge the truth of this observation. We have one consolation under this heavy loss, which is, that a worthy successor will be found in his son. Under so able an instructor it is to be presumed that Mr. Lancaster, jun., has profited; and as it may fairly be reckoned that talent, if not genius, is hereditary, we may look for, when time and experience have matured the resources that doubtless exist, a second Charles Lancaster. May he emulate his revered and respected parent in his virtues as in his acquirements! The son, as well as the bereaved widow and orphans, has the proud though melancholy reflection that Mr. Charles Lancaster has borne with him to the grave the regret of all, and that he has left behind him an imperishable fame, founded on the solid basis of honourable conduct, coupled with natural endowments of the highest order, which stamped their possessor as a being of surpassing intellect. Old Joe Manton may have been the Napoleon of gunmakers, but Charles Lancaster must be ranked as the Wellington of workmen; and his name, like that of our veteran conqueror, will endure for ages.

Much has been said and no little written as to the comparative merits of large and small bores for double guns. Some thirty years ago, in old Joe Manton's time, guns of sixteen, eighteen-aye, even twenty bore, were all the rage; but experience, the surest and best of all tests, has proved the fallacy of the doctrine. True it is that we have seen and shot with guns of sixteen bore that carried closely and well as far as the charge could go ; but it stands to reason that a drachm and a half of powder will not drive a missile so far as a charge of two and a half and three upon the principle that a kick from Mr. Paul Bedford would send any one of us a yard or two further than a similar pedal application from the lower limb of Mr. Keeley or little Oxberry. Perhaps the advocate for pop-gun bores will say, This is all very well, but we regulate the charge of shot according to the quantity of powder." Granted; but "parvis componere magna," will a twelve pounder throw a shot as far as a twenty-four? We all know that it will not; therefore it may be argued that a gun of twelve, thirteen, or fourteen bore will carry further

than one of sixteen, eighteen, or twenty. The mass of shot, too, fired at any given object at fifty or sixty yards must be taken into account. It does not require the sagacity of a Joseph Hume to tell us that two ounces of No. 7 shot will occupy a larger space in its transit through the air than one : ergo, a partridge, cock, or snipe has a much less chance of escape from the contents of a barrel of larger gauge than a smaller one; the circumference of the charge, if we may so express ourself, being greater from the one than the other. If we were to set up one of those plaster images carried about by Italian boys as an object to "shy" at, we should prefer, as a missile, a halfcrown-piece to a shilling, or a crown to the halfcrown: weight, to a certain extent, is indispensablethat is, the weight (or quantity) of metal to be carried; in proof of which we must, one and all, admit, that were we compelled to present that part of our person which faces the east when we look westward, as a mark to be fired at from a distance of fifty yards or so, we would rather have eighty pellets discharged at us than one hundred and sixty, inasmuch as the chance of posterior peppering would be materially diminished. The very last time I saw the lamented Mr. Lancaster we had a long and interesting conversation on this subject, and his opinionone of no slight value in our estimation-was decidedly in favour of moderately large gauges, such as thirteen and fourteen. While we avow our predilection for a somewhat large calibre, we are by no means an advocate for a heavy gun; we are well aware of the inconvenience and annoyance of carrying extra weight on a broiling day in August and September. As far as a gun is concerned, much depends upon the maker; for a first-rate artist, and one who thoroughly understands his business, will so justly poise his double, by putting the weight in the right place, that even if the gun should run as high as seven pounds and three quarters or eight pounds, but little difficulty will be experienced in carrying it; whereas if the same quantity of wood and material were put together by an ignorant and inexperienced botcher, the difference would soon be discovered. We have at this moment three guns in our possession, of three different bores, twelve, thirteen, and fourteen. The twelve weighs seven pounds and three quarters, the thirteen seven and a half, and the fourteen seven and a quarter; they are first-rate tools, and as handy as a walking cane. None but a London maker, and he who thoroughly understands the theory, and puts his work together on scientific principles, can produce the kind of article we mean: the weight is in the right place; that is, solidity is given where most required. A tilbury, buggy, or dog-cart, if well hung-built by "Barker," "Peters," or "Baxter"-will follow lightly and pleasantly to the animal which draws it; but a similar vehicle, or rather one bearing the same name, got up to order by a provincial mechanic, will take more out of a free horse in three months than a town-built carriage in as many years. We have tried it, and speak from experience; and so it is with guns, good reader.

Some of our best sportsmen have of late years devoted their attention to their kennels; the consequence has been that the breed of setters and pointers has greatly improved. The late Duke of Gordon may be said to have been the founder of the best stud of setters in the kingdom. By attention to the relative merits of these useful and splendid animals, and by judicious crossing, we can boast of the finest dogs in

the world. Lord Chesterfield's kennel at Bretby contains dogs of matchless beauty and great value. His lordship has some of the best blood in the kingdom; and for speed, nose, intelligence, and every other requisite in heather or stubble, are not to be equalled. Sir W. M. Stanley, of Horton, has some magnificent dogs also; and no one knows better than himself what a dog should be, for he is all over a sportsman, and the beau ideal of an English country gentleman. Mr. Brailsford, the well-known dog-breaker and breeder of Melton Mowbray, is the first and best professional purveyor of sporting dogs in Her Majesty's dominions. He not only has a splendid and costly collection of pointers, setters, and retrievers, but he farms any given number of dogs for the season to those noblemen and gentlemen who rent tracts of moors in the Highlands for their grouse shooting. It is no uncommon thing to hear a sportsman say he has the best dog in England;" but we have oftentimes seen this best dog in England" cut but a sorry figure in the field. We will not go the length of asserting, as some of our over-confident and boastful friends have done, that we have the best in England; but we can take upon ourselves to say, without fear of contradiction, that we have owned, and still possess, as good as ever entered a field. A really good dog may be likened to a good razor or a good wife, for it is rarely-very rarely-to be met with.

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The days of dogs, however, are numbered as well as our own, and the best and staunchest will succumb to the general leveller, "Time." Two old and faithful servants, "Don" and "Duchess," being fairly done up and worn out in the year 1842, we applied to Mr. Brailsford for a re-inforcement to our kennel, and he sent us from Melton Mowbray a brace of the handsomest puppies man ever looked upon; "Duke," the dog, was from the descendants of the Duke of Gordon's breed, and " Mog" came from Lord Chesterfield's stud. The dog we saved, but Mog fell a victim to that sweeping pest-the distemper. All that art, skill, nursing, and attention could do were tried, but in vain; Duke recovered, and has turned out an invaluable animal. A friend of ours, who lived near us in Devonshire, the rector of the village in fact, had an excellent black and tan bitch that looked very much as if she had been bred in the Bretby kennel; she was given to him by a gentleman of Lyme Regis, in Dorsetshire, and he said he believed she was of Lord Chesterfield's breed; we had no doubt about the matter, for she was as good as she was handsome. In due season a little bit of matrimony was perpetrated, and the produce turned out prodigies. We had the pleasure of presenting a brace to Mr. Charles Cecil Martin, who sent them to Mr. Brailsford, one of the latter's sons being Mr. Martin's gamekeeper. The puppies did wonders in Invernesshire, where Mr. Martin rents an extensive moor. Nothing can exceed the goodness of this breed; the dogs are perfect, and they required but little breaking, and when we state that one of the litter stood and backed at six months old, some idea may be formed of the superiority of the blood.

With regard to pointers, we opine that many of the breeders fall into the common error of breeding "in and in," as it is termed, until at last the race dwindles down to a puny, sickly, consumptive-looking animal, by no means unlike an Italian greyhound; too much is by these means sacrificed to speed and appearance. Mr. Brailsford is well aware of this, and most judiciously crosses with muscle and bone, preserving the good