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DERBY NOTES. BY NICHOLAS HIMSELF.

BELGRAVIA. DESCRIPTIVE Writing being less my province than knowing a really good horse when I see him, and have been thrown off by a-many in my time, though, thanks be, still hale and hearty for his age, NICHOLAS will not attempt to paint our national sports and customs which, even had he the pen of a Kelly's Post Office Directory, would be too numerous for insertion. The humours of the road are as laughable as anything in the writings of that genial wit MR. TUPPER, which I hope to meet him on the course, and now by the kind permission of the chair attempt an imitation of his style.

Remarkable indeed is Man, nor is he ever more so than when, upon the course at Epsom,

Armed with a metallic pencil, he is ready to lay against the favourite;
For the popular taste is fickle, and the odds in the betting are apt to
fluctuate,
Oscillating like the pendulum of a clock, but with less regularity of

purpose!

Wherefore, oh! my son, be wise, gentle, and prudent in thy dealings, Never putting all thy money on a single horse, but standing to win upon several;

For no one but a fool can expect to be perpetually fortunate,
Which is probably the reason of my own literary success!

The author has no warmer admirer than NICHOLAS, and his composition saves the trouble of rhyming, besides being conducive to what he would call corpulence of thought.

66

After the numerous Derbys which your sporting editor have attended, usually in a humble way, though never menial, whatever envious prophets may insinuate, and when I was younger, before misfortunes, could have his glass of sherry wine where others were only too glad to get their half-pint of four-ale, it is with some amount of pardonable pride that I shall go down in own drag," with some my of the noblest in the land a-bowing to me, as affable as oil, when they see the old man, which well they know his word was ever as good as his bond, and frequently better, whenever times was bad. It's money as makes the mare to go-mares reminding me of Friday and the Oaks, which will bring me back to original subject, so excuse digresWell, my noble sportsmen, trust your own old tipster when he tells you where to put the pot on, and will now cast his eye down the whole boiling of the horses on the card.

sion.

Breadalbane is, to NICHOLAS's thinking, as fine an animal as ever cast

a fetlock or threw a pastern; added to which, he has Blood and Breed, which, in horses as in men, is almost invaluable, as well I know myself, my own family, though not absolutely rich, having always been respectable, and one was under Government in the Customs House; but that was before my time, I admit. What with Breadalbane, and what with Broomielaw, though the latter vicious as he's been known of few, MR. CHAPLIN, as has only recent gone upon the Turf, and may now be called Chaplin and Huntsman's Horne, the firm always knowing a good deal about horses, though not exactly racers-MR. C. has a chance, a good chance, and nothing but a chance.

Should Gladiateur keep his Two Thousand form, the stakes may go to our lively neighbours, les Francais; and NICHOLAS hopes he have rose above the meanness of being jealous when a foreign gentilhomme -or, as he might say, noble homme, though his French is not what it wa s-winsa great prize upon the turf of vieux Angleterre.

The success of "The Duke," which was to have carried the colours of the MARQUIS OF HASTINGS, would have been welcome to every lover of our national aristocracy, but scratching was decreed his doom, and such was fate. Far other be the lot of LORD STAMFORD's Archimedes, as recalls the term "Eureka!" to the student of

classic lore.

Space preventing further criticism on the characteristic points of the horses, will abstain from absolute prophecy, but will give the novice a little hint:-If you back all the horses that run you are sure to win something or other. The plan, of course, requires capital, and you mightn't get paid after all; but

THERE IS NO OTHER GOLDEN RULE FOR SUCCESS UPON THE TURF. NICHOLAS.

A Hint for Youth.

WE observe "the guinea storm-coat" advertised. Young gentlemen who go to the Derby on the sly and risk detection by "the governor" would do well to purchase these invaluable articles. They will be equally efficient, we suppose, in keeping off the dust on the road and the dust that may be kicked up at home on the return.

Theatrical Mem.

that this month, May (well known to amateur performers. IT may be interesting to those connected with the drama to learn Evening parties attended) will dress the Downs in a new suit of green N.B. for the Derby.

THE REAL "DERBY HAMPER."-When your wife insists on going with you.

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upon Gladiateur's success at Epsom; that Archimedes has nothing of the screw of that ilk about him; that Broomielaw-or more properly, Broughamy-law-is so called as a delicate allusion to a veteran ex-chancellor; that The Duke was so named, because he belongs to a Marquis -an excellent reason; and, finally, that MR. CHARLES DICKENS is going to bring an action for piracy against the proprietor of "Christmas Carol," for bringing it out in a new form without permission.

I SUPPOSE I ought to give a prophecy, and I have no doubt it will be quite as valuable as the general run of tips, for they usually upset your calculations. On the whole, then, I am inclined to think that the winner's name will begin with the second or third, or some other letter of the alphabet, and that he will be recognizable by going past the post first.

THE Union Chargeability Bill has met with very strong opposition. What do its enemies mean? One would fancy that they were of opinion that the labouring man, like the race-horse, requires a preliminary canter before he settles down to his work, and that a good trudge of five or six miles, cold or hot, wet or dry, to his labour, is necessary for his health.

THERE was no very extra display of illuminations on the QUEEN'S birthday, although some of the shows were fine. It struck me to be rather odd that none of the public offices lit up. Whitehall was dark, and the War Office, in Pall-mall, looked quite singular among the blazing jets of the club-houses. I don't think that any of the latter looked better than "The Rag." The Royal Academy might have afforded a star, one would think-but it didn't.

How completely, and in how short a time, the Southern Confederacy has vanished! It is scratched for the human race; but then, you see, the Yankees early promised to make all the running.

THE weather, in spite of some smartish thunder showers, continues warm, and it is not impossible that the Derby may end in a dead heat. We may look now for febris equestris. Its early symptoms are a horselaugh and an eruption of penny dolls. The remedy usually adopted is Epsom Salt, taken on its native heath, with a running accompaniment of champagne and cold chicken. A slight headache next day and a feeling of sinking in the pockets must be expected to follow, but generally speaking the patient is quite restored on the third day.

No fatal case has ever been known to occur.

Ir may be interesting to some of my readers to know that the Saunterer will be on the Downs on the day. A light coat, white hat, green veil, light trousers, patent leather boots, and a cigar will be the unmistakeable and original costume by which he may be known. He is prepared to accept invitations to lunch (champagne indispensable) up to the number of a hundred, but must decline any further engagements. He has already arranged to go down on twenty-three different drags, four mail-phaetons, and one greengrocer's cart, and will arrive simultaneously by all those conveyances at stated intervals. In reply to numerous lady correspondents, he begs to add that he has accepted already upwards of twenty thousand bets in gloves and scent, and is obliged to close his arrangements, owing to his betting-book having already reached six volumes large octavo. In order to prevent disappointments he has prevailed on the Chelsea Waterworks to lay down pipes for the conveyance of the Eau de Cologne to the Downs direct. The gloves will be forwarded from Paris by telegraph to the Grand Stand.

Sensation Dramas for the Back Drawing-Room.

EPSOM UPS AND DOWNS;

OR,

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The Magnificent Woman and the Mysterious Minstrel. AN EQUESTRIAN DRAMA OF REAL LIFE, IN THREE ACTS. Аст I. SCENE.-Room at the Junior Disunited Senior Lookbetter Club, Pallstreet, St. James's Mall. The house looks generous, the very windows having an open appearance. A stout butler is trying BANTING at the front door, and a verdict of fat-al result of overfeeding is being brought in (on wheels) by an intelligent jury, as the curtain rises, like one man. LORD BOB LOB, who has spent most of the recent years of his existence on the shady side of Pall Mall, and forty-five, got up about three and about thirty, is lounging at the first-floor window. Having become in the course of the first heur (during which the more sensible portion of the audience go out and demand the return of their money, especially those who came in with orders) somewhat weary of lounging, his lordship varies the monotony by lolling. Eventually subsiding into a gentle slumber, dreams he is a boy again, and leaves a good deal of his hair-dye on the new morocco chair-back.

Enter

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MAJOR-GENERAL CORPORAL BOMBARDIER PRIVATE BREVET DRUMMER WHACKLEIGH, a martinet. He coughs, hems, grunts, takes snuff, scowls, growls, curses his tailor, mutters the word "puppies," kicks a waiter, and exit foaming.

VISCOUNT VERDIGRIS.-What can have put the general in such a good temper?

took to a brown wig. But that's neither here nor there. LORD LOB (rising suddenly).-I see it all. I was black bald before I Some of the Members.-He mutters.

The others.-He does.

LORD L.-I don't look above twenty-five.
VISCOUNT V.-Inches?

LORD L.-No, sir-years.

All the members previously silent.-Oh!
LORD L.-I call you all out.

All the members except the viscount.-We come.
LORD L.-But I will be revenged on some one.
VISCOUNT V.-It is.

(They sleep.) To-morrow is

LORD L.-Rash youth, I have spared you; I did not include you in the general challenge. You alone will live to tell the tale. To-morrow, before the race is run, their races will be. Ha! ha! Good! Twig? Their manly but defunct forms will dot Wimbledon-common. Give me Wimbledon for a duel.

VISCOUNT V. (with the generosity of youth).-Take it.

LORD L. (dropping a tear and a quarter).-This generosity unmans Lend me eighteenpence.

me.

VISCOUNT V.-'Tis there.

(Slow music during a monetary transaction. Music played faster when the business assumes the tone of a pecuniary arrangement. Lord Lob rushes off with the money, flushed, followed by the general-who has been in ambush behind the hats, sticks, and playbills in the hall-heated. Both pant off hurriedly, and take cabs simultaneously.) BOTH (together, but in different cabs).-Bryanstone-square!

ACT II.

A decided coolness Drawing-room at MRS. CAROLINE RAVENSWING'S. pervades the apartment, none of the chairs and tables being upon terms. With the exception of two robust macaws, who shriek duets, a communicative canary, a musical snuff-box at full swing, and MASTER RAVENSWING playing with the fire-irons, all is silent.

Enter MRS. RAVENSWING. She is of an exquisitely chiselled aquiline
figure; her nose is tall, and delicately pencilled; her expression is marked
in plain figures. Her costume is of the period, and her brow is guileless,
and innocent even of a freckle. She sweeps the auditorium with her eye
(this effect is registered), and beholding her only child dropping the tongs
for the fifteenth time, catches him to her maternal bosom, and administers
a mild but efficient spank. MASTER RAVENSWING fancies himself a bit
of India-rubber, and rubs himself out centre door, leaving his mother
in possession of the stage. She smiles and takes it.
MRS. R.-Ah, me!

Enter LORD LOB and GENERAL WHACKLEIGH, perspiring freely. They
mop their faces with silk pocket-handkerchiefs, and glower.
MRS. R. (with the delicacy of a true lady).-Now, you two!
LORD L.-Be mine!

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others' way.

ACT III.

SCENE.-The Course.

(The arrangements of this elaborate scene are under the personal supervision of MR. OSCAR HARRIS, AUGUSTUS BYRNE, MR. ROBERT WEST, W. ROXBY, and as many other stage managers as can be obtained to get in All the carpenters employed for the great "ship" scene in the Africaine are engaged, and many of them married. The most celebrated figure painters of the day are retained to draw the public. The police are seen taking up a great many of the company, and nearly all the room. The first race is over, and the husband of Lady Elizabeth Mountflashington looking very disconsolate at having lost his Bet. A theatrical manager who is notorious for having many bad actors in his company, is offering the lot at "three sticks a penny," and the sides of the course are crowded with rank, fashion, tag, rag, bobtail, carts, carriages, cabs, shandy-gaffs, and shandry Daniels come to judgment and grief.) Chorus of Convivial Crowd.

Hooray, hooray,

For the Derby day!
Hooray, hooray, hooray!
For the Derby day,
Hooray, hooray!

And (after a pause)-Hooray, hooray, hooray!

(This inspiriting chorus, with encore verses-the same over again—is published by Crammer and Coe, limited, and may be had at the scales of the weighter.)

1ST MOB.-Slap bang!

2ND MOB (ironically).-Here we are again!

3RD MOB (obtusely).- We R again? What, the QUEEN ? 4TH MOB.-You're a witty one, you are.

3RD MOB (with powers of retort, which promise much).—You ain't! (They grapple. The annual "dog" takes his gallop amidst the cheers and howls of everybody, and the subdued shrieks of the rest.) 3RD MOB (ungrappling). It strikes me you are my long lost father. 4TH MOB.-The same observation I was just on the point of making to you!

3RD MOB.-That being the case, two to one bar one. 4TH MOB.-You're another!

EVERYBODY.-Hats off!

SOME MILLIONS.-They're off!

SOME THOUSANDS.-What, the hats?

A SELECT FEW.-No, the horses.

(They embrace.)

(Here takes place the race. It will be somewhat difficult to accomplish effectively in a back drawing-room, but if everything came easy, acting would cease to be an art. The race is won by the first horse (as usual). Howls, growls, yells of delight, and shrieks of joy proclaim the various emotions of the winners and the losers.)

(Dance of hedgers and ditchers.) (The scene changes panoramically to the "Hill," where MRS. RAVENSWING is seated in an open barouche and six. She is toasting a friend in the sun, and the champagne glass is on her lip, and a tear in her eye. She has her fortune told, commands negro ballads, presents cold fowl to vagrancy in general, and an inebriated policeman in particular, and awaits the coming of her admirers. They come.) MAJOR-GEN. W.-Decide!

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MRS. R. (taking a Bath bun in the confusion of the moment from the tray of a peripatetic confectioner).—I cannot! I cannot !

(The rivals order the negro minstrel to move on. He proudly curls his upper lip, and passes his ebony fingers over the strings of his banjo. Mrs. R. turns pale as he does so.)

MRS. R.-Give me till after the Oaks.

THE RIVALS (simultaneously).—The Hoaks !

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(Swoons.)

NEGRO.-CAROLINE! 'Tis I! (Mops her brow with the lace handkerchief dipped in champagne. The pictorial effect produced is dazzling.) LORD L. (aside to his rival).—Humph! MAJOR-GEN. W.-My sentiments exactly. LORD L.-I will never marry.

MAJOR-GEN. W.-I will turn hermit. (Comes to terms with MR. E. T. SMITH, who happens to be on the spot, and who is in want of novelty.) THE MYSTERIOUS MINSTREL (supporting his wife, which he refused to do once-hence the separation).-And if our keyind friends in front will only be good enough to take their hats off, we shall be able to see the rest of the racing, and there will then be nothing wanting to complete the general satisfaction at Epsom Ups and Downs. (All the unopened champagne bottles burst with a simultaneous bang; and taking advantage of the general confusion, the curtain, who is not a green one, but an old hand, sneaks quietly down.)

SMOOTHING THE EDGES.

It has always been a great question in the theory of rhyming whether one should appeal to the eye or to the ear of one's readers. Is "come" or "comb," for instance, the better rhyme for "home?" The former is much prettier to look at; the latter is much nicer to listen to. Which is the legitimate object of verse-to be seen, or to be heard?

cradle.

It strikes us that the question might be disposed of in a very simple and satisfactory way by the adoption of a bran-new method-of which, by the bye, we reserve the right of translation. Let future versifiers contrive to gratify two senses at the same time. This may be done by taking a few very trifling liberties with orthography whenever orthography happens to come in the poet's way. Let us illustrate this. Our own acquaintance with English poetry commenced in the Even yet we can recite certain verses that were familiar to us before we were big enough to be trusted with a NOAH's Ark. (N.B.-When we were trusted with a NOAH's Ark, we beg to say that we behaved very tenderly to the dumb animals, and contented ourselves with sucking all the paint off the bodies of SHEM, HAM, and twinkle" (which are not words, but only one word artfully repeated, JAPHETH.) The verses in question began with the words, "Twinkle, with a design of making it sound like two; a knack which has been pilfered by ALFRED TENNYSON-vide "Break, break, break," passim.) Now these verses, though perfectly satisfactory to the ear, present rhymes which are very far from good-looking. Should our theory be embraced, we hope to see them made more perfect in future. Thus:"Twinkle, twinkle, little star; How I wonder what you ar! Up above the world so high,

Like a diamond in the skigh!" &c.

But, after all, it is only proper that we should illustrate our new and original notion upon a new and original poem. It's not a great deal too full of thought, perhaps, but we can answer for the rhymes:SPRING, the late comer-bright herald of SoMERHas deck'd with her garlands the threshold of June. London's at leisure for frolic and pleisure,

And carnival comes not a minute too sune;
Sunshiny weather brings trooping togeather
The wise and the witty, the rich and the poor;
The road to the Derby is quite rus in erby
(You've probably heard the quotation befoor).
Racing delights us, and Epsom invights us,
And modes of conveyance are thoughtfully plann'd.
Folks are preparing to take for an a'ring

The modest four-wheeler, or trim four-in-hann'd.
FORTNUM AND MASON (who relish a ras, on

Account of the eating and drinking that's done)
May do all they can, Sir, but nothing will ansir
Unless you remember to purchase your FONE!

There! we could go on like this for several hours if we chose;

(See they have made an unintentional joke, and consider themselves wags but we don't wish to over-exert ourselves just at present, in confrom that moment.)

sequence of something that is to take place on Wednesday.

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Jolter, intending to go to the Derby on horseback, has been taking lessons in riding. This is what he dreamt after the first lesson of three hours' duration.

THE DERBY OF 1865.

BY OUR OWN FRENCH SPORTING CORRESPONDENT.

I.

London, Tuesday, 30 May, 1865. Ir is the eve of the Holy Derbi-ceremonial, international, quasihistoric-to the least, hippic and august! Derbi-town to which CHARLES EDWARD, with his Highlanders, promenaded himself in 1745 -town represented in the Chamber of Britannic Commons by SIR STANLEY, père, translator of this good old HOMER-Derbi will find itself to-morrow refreshed, rejoicing, ebullient; but also, on my faith, powderous and encumbered.

They come to inform me that the course will not be held this year at Derbi itself. Ha! ha! proud aristocrats of the most insular, is it then that ye fear to hold head against the populations industrial and reformatory of the more democratic cities? The race is to be on Epsom's Salt Sands, or "Downs," a gloomy recess amidst the dense forests of Countysurreyshire, haunt of gipsies, sombre, immemorial, terrible, hidden from the publicity which is the necessity of the epoch and the guarantee of truth. Only a few of the more devoted lovers of the chase will, they tell me, be at Epsom's to-morrow. We shall see.

The eve-it is the time of the doubt, the uncertainty, the terror! Shine forth, oh, Star of the Morning, organ of Jonbriggts!

I have gone so assures me my English friend, one of your redactors the most distinguished-to Tatter's Hall. It gives upon the River Thames, close to the Tower of London, and appears to be merely a market for the sale of the fish. Insular hypocrisy! It is here that the indolent patricians, the oligarchical Sybarites-an EARL RUSSELL of the Times, a SHAFTESBURY, and a Rous, relic of an age heroic, the sole survivor who escaped from our victorious ships at Trafalgar-it

is here, in this Tatter's Hall, that they make wagers of the most insensate and enormous. I will unveil them! I will unmask them!

But to-day I saw them not.

And yet, oh, sacred genius of the old Britannic freedom! oh, spirit of progressive democracy! I have instantly been asked whether I should object to make one with a sweep! The objection, may it please you? The pretty question! Welcome, son of toil!

My friend has organized our programme. We shall not couch ourselves to-night. No! we must be fresh, vivid, alert, when the first rays of the sun, so beautiful, so fructuous, steal faintly through the obscurity, tenebrous and profound, that broods around the dome of Saint Powell's, or the piazza of the garden by the Convent. We have engaged-it is to say, my English friend thus assures me seats in a "trappe." We shall have but seven companions

1. Lord Samuel Warren's Blacking Stormy Hail (Mayor of London).

2. Sir Edward Licking Dickings (author of The Last Days of Pickwick).

3. The Earl of Potter (member for Rochdale, ouvrier).

4. Bobby (old jokei of the most renowned).

5. The Archbishop of the Canterbury Hall.

6. Little Tootsicums (a blonde beauty of the English). 7. Arabellica (idem).

Many of these are with me to-night. We are to meet the miladies in the morn. We quicken our vivacity by the joyous grapes of Kent, and Captain Richard Burton-upon-Trent, the wine of the country.

I bound with excitement-my temples throb-there is a sound in my ears-a cry of millions-a cry, "Gladiateur wins!" Or do I dream? No! no! heroic LAGRANGE, it is for thee to repeat the victories of La Toucques! Yes; I trust to thee my aspirations, my future, my fortune! I disdain to accept the contemptuous terms that are offered

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Opposition Jockey:-"I'M AFRAID HE'LL BE IN AT THE FINISH FOR ALL THAT!"

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