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ARABS SENT TO BENGAL.

A friend has favoured us with the following circular addressed to the different horse-dealers and agents for the sale of horses here and at the other Presidencies, on a matter of some importance to those connected with or interested about the Turf.

TO SYUD YUSSEEN, HORSE DEALER
AND AGENT FOR THE SALE OF
HORSES IN CALCUTTA.

SIR,

It having been proved to the satisfaction of the Stewards of the Bengal Jockey Club that the grey Arab horse Benneret, sold by you to Richard Parker, had won a sweepstakes at Bombay previously to being sent to Bengal, and which they consider to have disqualified him to start as a maiden horse, I am directed by those gentlemen to inform you that they have awarded the purse given by you in December last, to be run for by maiden horses, to the horse which came in second for that race (Blueskin), and to desire that you will pay the

amount to his owner.

With reference to the defence set up in this case, viz. that Benneret ought not to be considered a winner, because the race which he did win was for a small amount, that it was run on the

SIR,

sands and not over the racecourse, that the weights were not specified, and that the horse was at the time the property of a native dealer, and that it is a common practice among the native dealers of Bombay to try their horses in this way, the Stewards feel it incumbent on them on the present occasion, in order to protect the public, as well as to put dealers and individuals on their guard, to make known to the native dealers of Bombay, and to your employer in particular, that they will consider every horse that has won a race for money, whatever the amount, the distance, the weight, or the ground on which the race may have been run, and to whomsoever the horse may have belonged at the time, to disqualify such horse to start for any maiden purse whatever, and that their decisions in all cases of this nature will be guided by the above principle. A copy of this communication will be forwarded to the Secretary at Bombay, with a request that he will make it known to all those whom it may concern.

I am, Sir,

Your obedient Servant,
J. BARWELL,

Sec. to Turf Club. Calcutta, the 20th June, 1830.

A HINT TO SQUIRREL.

You have been pleased to call the Pigeon Match shot at Poonah in July last year "anything but tiptop."

Admitting that you mean something by so luminous an expression, and that the said something is disadvantageous to the pigeon

shooters at Poonah, I should like to know, since your object was to prove how far superior the Sholapoor shots were, why you did not select the Poonah Pigeon Matches in May of this year instead of going back to that of July in last; your letter dated in June. Was it because that com

parison would not have suited your plans?-was it because the killed against the missed in your five matches would have cut no such triumphant figure when contrasted with the list of the two Poonah matches? It certainly looks like it, as would strike any one from the following statement:

Sholapoor, Eleven Matches. 170 birds, killed 102.

Poonah Two Matches.

45 birds, killed 33.

To have made both equal, as Poonah lost only eight out of 45, Sholapoor should have lost only 30 out of 170; instead of which the loss was 68-more than double what it ought to have been. But I have no intention to rank the Sholapoor shots lower than they feel inclined to place themselves, for I have no confidence in reported matches, since the state of the weather and the condition of

SIR,

the birds must be known to render any account worth consideration. If you will be so good in your next to mention what kind of birds you put into your trap, how long they had been kept, how they flew, whether they were off at once, or waited to be pelted at before they would rise, whether the wind was high or gentle, and in what position with respect to the breeze the trap was placed, then I should read your register of killed and missed with great interest, and I trust you will give me an opportunity of doing so soon.

I dare say the Poonah Pigeon Club would be happy to have a few hundreds on a match with that at Sholapoor, and a word from you would settle the affair

at once.

Yours, BLUE-ROCK. Poonah, 29th Sept., 1830.

A WORD TO NOSING TOM.

When you next intend to favour the Nuggur pack with the sight of your red waistcoat and double damnables, perhaps it would be as well to favour the members of the Hunt with your note-book previous to your departure, that they may see in manuscript those delightful descriptions which so much surprise and amuse them in print; perhaps, too, a little revision before being submitted to the printer's devil might be useful, I assure you, from the critical lashes of that arch satirist Stephen, who really oils the rod before he lifts it-witness his remark on your first letter, which he says bears the stamp of a mind that could master better things. But to my purpose. You mention having held a good place during the run. Now, Mr. Nosing Tom, it would gratify

at least one of the Nuggurites to know what you mean by that term. Were you well up to win, or well in the rear and ready for anything?-did you head the dogs?

non sum qualis eram looks suspicious, or tail the pack, ubi fuit, ditto? And will you have the goodness to cast a little light o'er the person meant by the Nabob of Noodledroog? The P.S. in your letter in No. 9 occasions this address to you. You appear to be a trump in the sporting trade, and I have no doubt are as good as you appear, and therefore will not care much about this fillip from a friend to all sorts of fun and sport. I remain, Sir, with every respect for your scribbling qualifications, for your hunting capabilities, and with every wish to set my horse with yours when next we meet, Yours obediently,

YOICKS.

EXTRAORDINARY RACE.

The following extract from some old sporting work of which we have no knowledge has been very kindly sent us by an anonymous correspondent. It details a race of striking interest, and will, we are sure, lose nothing by its antiquity.

Extract of a letter dated Newmarket,
Thursday,

This day the following horses started for the king's plate. Lord Godolphin's C. H. Shakespear, by his Arabian, out of a True Blue Mare, Lord Portmore's C. H. Looby, by Bright Arabian, out of a Partner Mare; Mr. Paton's C. H. H. Partner, by the Lonsdale Arabian, out of a sister to Bonny Black. The bets went 2 to 1, the field against Shakespear.

1st Heat.-Shakespear took the lead, and supported it at his usual deep rate through the furzes to the top of Choakjade, with Looby on his quarter all the way, but in coming down the hill he ran up to him, and they disputed the lead every inch to the three mile post, when Looby gained about half a length, and kept it till they came over against the Well Gap; but before they reached the distance post it was impossible to discern which was first, and they ran in so close together that it could not be decided which won. Partner laid by, pulled up, walked in.

2nd Heat.-Partner made all the play for the first two miles, and Looby, perceiving that Shakespear did not intend to call upon him, began to be very busy along the ditch, and gave him so much trouble upon the flat, just as they entered the cords, that they were both at laps, and ran it every yard in; but Looby, being distressed by

the severity of this and the first heat, was forced to submit to his adversary, though with great honour, by half a neck.

This raised the odds 3 to 1 Shakespear did not win, which were accepted by the judicious part of the turf, who relied on the Godolphin blood, and the honesty of the true blues. Shake

spear went away brisk by the third heat, closely pursued by Partner, while Looby lay too far behind to profess disputing this heat, as he had bravely done the two first. They were now in the third mile, and Partner had never attempted to take the lead: for, as he was conscious he had the foot, though not the stoutness of Shakespear, he intended to reserve his push as long as possible; but Shakespear being aware of that, and trusting to his bottom, began to make running as he crossed the ruts, and displayed all his power upon the flat, with good resolution, but could not conquer his adversary, till the rising ground from the distance to the winning post, by means of his superior strength, declared the contest in his favour, by half a length, hard run. This brought the bets to even money, Shakespear against the field.

The fourth heat they all jumped off at score, and ran the first two miles as if they intended to tear one another to pieces; they then slackened their pace, and came gently together to the flat, when they ran at the top of their speed above half a mile, in which they prevailed by turns, whilst new wagers echoed from the betting gap and cords every moment. And now Shakespear having indulged a little pull, in order to have something in hand at coming in, was thrown two lengths be

hind, and the others continued close together, struck and cut every yard, when he made loose as his last effort, and caught them, within twenty yards of the ending post, dead run, and their riders almost exhausted, when Partner broke down, and Looby yielded

the victory scarcely by half a head, and with it his life, for he died immediately after the heat.

The weather was extremely fine, abundance of good company, and the battle was so equal that the vanquished disdained to mourn, and the victor refused to triumph.

SONG.

HURRAH! HURRAH! ONE BUMPER MORE.

Fill the goblet to the brim,
Fill with me and drink to him
Who the mountain sport pursues,
Speed the boar where'er he choose;
Hurrah! hurrah! one bumper more,
A bumper to the bristly boar!

Hark, the beaters shout on high,
Hark, the sportsman's shrill reply,
Echo leaps from hill to hill,
There the chase is challenged still;
Hurrah! hurrah! one bumper more,
A bumper to the bristly boar!

Ride, for now the sounder breaks,
Ride where'er the grey boar takes,
Struggle thro' the desperate chase,
Fearless death itself to face.
Hurrah! hurrah! one bumper more,
A bumper to the bristly boar!

See, the jungle verge is won,
See, the grey boar dashing on;
Bold and brave ones now are nigh,
See him stagger, charge, and die.
Hurrah! hurrah! one bumper more,
A bumper to the bristly boar!

FIRST DHOOLIA MEETING.

SIR,
Now that Reminiscences are
daily offering at the shrine of your
criticism, and good things lose no-
thing in actual worth by being a
trifle stale, I see no cause why we
should longer delay to place the
public in undisturbed possession
of a list of "all the running horses
at the first Dhoolia race meeting,
1829-something bang up in its
way, although not quite the work
of yesterday. As far therefore as
I am concerned it shall not "die
with the doing;" and I'll not feel
much displeased if you should per-
chance think proper to exclude
me, since you must certainly be
acknowledged the best judge of
what will suit your book; so here
goes, and if I am too slow or too
old to be entered, you can e'en

S. Y. S.

apply the paper to whatever service it may appear suited.

Dhoolia has had a course, such as it is, time out of mind; but where the devil's the use of a course, or a stand either, without something to put round it? Now, although many of the "auld ones had for years talked big when their skins were full over night, it as constantly evaporated and came to nothing in the morning, till a change of society brought in a kiddy or two with a long stable, and an eye to business, who know better than to "hold forth" for the mere pleasure of hearing themselves talk. As they could not however be reasonably expected to break down their horses simply for other people's amusement, their gab brought out the coin pretty

handsomely, and a bill of fare was trumped up for the 10th April, in which, be it understood, everybody took special care to keep something nice for number one.

The two months preceding the meeting (which was not made too public, "on principle") was a sad time for everything that could show four legs, and if training could have done the business, why there was no lack of "that there." The course was crowded, Sundays and week days, with winners of every size, shape, and denomination, rode by every lousy jackanapes that could open his legs wide enough to get one on either side of a saddle, whilst some of your real knowing ones, fearing to impart an inkling of the great arcana to their less educated neighbours, were only to be seen, and then imperfectly, by the pale light of the moon, as they flitted round the course like fairy shadows.

As April crept on, the palpitations of the sure-to-wins gradually advanced, and the company became more numerous and less select than the reasoning people had given out. But on the 10th the sun rose and ran round the four-mile course of heaven, and still no tidings of the great man. Where could he be? It is plain to everybody as the nose on a face that he was taking his time; and it was right plain, too, that the stewards did not intend to begin without him. Some, whom the spirit of good nature did pervade, cheeked of it as a well known fact that his nags were not up to their mark, and required another week of moonshine. But by far the greater part of the malcontents were of opinion that Jockabed "had a screw loose;" and George Barwick's ominously elongated mug, which, as a witty gentleman observed, "had taken pattern by the cow's tail and was diurnally

growing downwards," made the "wink and nod" gentry to fumble for their books. But be that as it may, the thing was set to rights over a bottle of max, and those who cared about it contrived to coax those who did not care a damn into a belief that the fare would be none the worse for keeping.

The long-looked-for 20th came in its proper place, and turned out many tallow faces by peep of day, who might have been to bed, but had certainly not been to sleep; and a bird's-eye view of these worthies went to prove that the holiday-folks had not been asleep either, and had made the most of their ten days law, to secure a market for the "on hand" boots and corderoys. A little after owl light the great man was just discernible in the extreme distance, making his best leg to the stand, with a cruel portentous-looking folio volume barely peeping its nose above the antiquated longwaisted waistcoat pocket, and very many were the long faces on record" as he stepped upstairs.

66

"Good morning to you, Mr. Snooks," said a diminutive dapper gentleman, with a dog whip in his hand (and half a dozen pointers who sadly required it), "I was sorry to learn that matters had gone crooked with the mare." The great man was not in a talking humour.

The business of the day commenced with the Dhoolia Sweepstakes of 100 Rupees each subscriber, heats two miles, 8st. 7lbs., when Mr. Snook's W. A. H. Ameer gave the spectators something for their money by galloping (query) round the course in 4m. 45s. with a black Horse Artillery driver on his back, who, if not quite in a state of nature, had at least got quit of his boots and

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