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glad to hear that NEAL has taken his leave of the ring; and we sincerely hope TOM GAYNOR will adopt the same resolution.

GOING TO SEE THE FIGHT.

TUNE." The night before Lary was stretched.” "To be, or not to be, that's the question." TOMMY HUDSON.

The watchman was crying " past four,"
When lanky Tom Lenny arose ;
He jump'd out o' bed on the floor,

And groped in the dark for his clothes.
Him, cross-eyed Billy Smart,

And Sam Grope had agreed over night;
And borrow'd Aby Long's horse and cart,
To go down and see the fight.
The morning was lowry and wet.

The clouds seem'd ready to burst;
Says Sam," no good luck I shall get,
I got out o' bed backside first '
Says Tom, "we shall do well enough,
The day light will make it all right;
Such old woman's sayings are stuff,

Ar'n't we going to see the fight?"
Says Bill," it looks queer, for any part,
We've only one horse 'tis true;
Back him 'tween the shafts of the cart,
And then you'll see he'll be to."
Says Tom," clap a stop on your muns,
And buckle that belly-band tight;
We don't want none of your puns,
'Cause we're going to see the fight."
The three all, without more ado,
Jump'd into the cart all alive,
And had then a rare filliloo,
Concerning which on 'em should drive.
Says Bill," we must go pretty sharp,
To get back to town by night:
So let's have no rows,-come arp!
We're going to see the fight."

The pike man at Tyburn Gate,

About the mill not at all knowing,
Cried out, "why you drive a rare rate,
Gentlemen, where are you going?"
Says Bill," why, Pikey, yo ho!

Cup, hand up the change-all right;
We all on us, if you must know,
Are going to see the fight."
They guv'd him a bad half-crown,

'Twas so dark that he could not see;
And, though the rain still pattered down,
They started again off with glee.
The mare went along pretty prime,
And now it began to get light;
They hoped to be there in time.

Thus going to see the fight.

To Wormwood Scrubbs then they got,
All three well wet to the skin;

Of porter they call'd for a pot,

And three half-quarterns of gin.
The landlord laughed, ready to burst,
Says he, " why your scent is not right;
You must go to Moulsey Hurst,
If you want to see the fight.

Then all beld a council of war,
As to what was best to be done;
Tom Lenny he said 'twas too fur

For Aby Long's mare to run.

Bill Smart said, "O that's all my eye,
The mare is in very good plight:

I moves that we do go-for why?
Why we com'd out to see the fight."
The mare again put in the cart,

'Cross the country to Moulsey to roam;
But not liking that way to start,

She bolted straight forwards for home.
She ran as if drove by a witch:

Tom Lenny held the reins tight;
She capsized them all in a ditch,
Going to see the fight.

Tom Lenny got out of it first,

And all round about him did stare; Sam Grope swore, halloed, and curs'd, And Bill Smart he wallop'd the mare. The shafts and the axletree broke Left the cart in a pitiful plight; All of 'em thought it no joke, Thus going to see the fight.

he mare was much hurt by the fall, They found to their riding a baulk; She scarcely could toddle at all,

So they were obligated to walk. To a stable they got her at last,

While the cart in the mud stuck so tight hey walk d up to town,-not so fast As they'd gone down to see the fight. When Aby Long heard it next day, He blow'd up all three of them round; And made 'em the damages pay,

A matter of five or six pound. My advice now may not be the worst, Never choose a man with a cross sight; Nor get out of bed backside first, When you're going to see a fight.

THE LAST WORDS AND TESTAMENT

OF

ROBERT LOGIC, ESQ. [From Pierce Egan's Finish to Life in London.]

Being wide awake--my upper STORY in perfect repair--and down to what I am about-I have seized hold of the feather, with a firm hand, to render myself intelligible, and also to communicate the objects I have in view: 1 give and bequeath unto my friend, JERRY HAWTHORN, Esq., my tile, my castor, my topper, my upper-crust, my pimple-coverer, otherwise MY HAT, which, I hope, will never be the means of changing the appearance of "an old friend with a new face." To my out-andout friend and companion, CORINTHIAN TOM, I give my spread, my summer-cabbage, my water-plant, but more generally understood as my UMBRELLA; who, I feel assured, will never let it be made use of as a shelter for duplicity, ingratitude, or humbuggery of any sort ! Also, to JERRY HAWTHORN, Esq., I resign my fam-snatchers, i. e. my GLOVES, under the consideration, if he ever should part with them, that they are only to be worn by those persons who have "a hand to give, and a heart that forgives!" Likewise to JERRY HAWTHORN, Esq., I bequeath my four-eyes, my barnacles, my green specs., but, amongst opticians, denominated SPECTACLES. It is my sincere wish, that nothing green will be ever seen appertaining to them, except their colour: I also hope they will not, upon any occasion whatever, magnify TRIFLES into difficulties: but enable the wearer to see his way through LIFE as clear as crystal! I press upon JERRY HAWTHORN, Esq., his acceptance of my fogle, my wipe, my clout, my sneezer, politely termed a SILK HANDKERCHIEF. This article has often been used to wipe off the tear of pity, and always forthcoming at a tale of distress; may it be ever at hand on such Christian-like occasions! TO PHILIP TIMOTHY SPLINTER Esq., I bequeath my upper tog, my Benjamin, my wrapper, generally called a TOP COAT, with the advice, that however it may be mended

mended, and mended again, he will never let it be turned against unavoidable misfortunes, poverty, and charity. My ticker, my tattler, my thimble, otherwise my watch, I bequeath to JERRY HAWTHORN, Esq., as an emblematical gift to keep TIME upon all occasions-to remember its inestimable value; and also to recollect that he will, some day or another, be wound-up for the last time. My two SEALS give conjointly to my most valued and dear friends, CORINTHIAN TOM AND JERRY HAWTHORN, Esqrs., in order, if possible, that the bonds of friendship may be more firmly sealed between them, to the end of their lives. To MISS MARY ROSEBUD, I give and bequeath my DIAMOND RING, as a representative of her excellent brilliant qualities, and also as a golden fence, to secure her virtue, reputation, and dignity. To my worthy friend, SIR JOHN BLUBBER, Knt., I give and bequeath my padders, my stampers, my buckets, otherwise, my BOOTS. whose knowledge of mankind, united

with his kindness towards the failings of others, teaches him to tread lightly o'er the ashes of the dead! To prevent mistakes respecting my BIT, I have not a bit to leave; it having been with me for some time pastPOCKETS to LET, unfurnished; Sic transit gloria mundi ! But, nevertheless, I trust that i have always proved amicus humani generis ! My BOOKS having been long booked for their value, and afforded me consolation and support in the hour of need-1, therefore, leave as I found it, for other folks to bustle in, that GREAT VOLUME-the WORLD! which, upon all occasions, was my sheet anchor! assisted by the following good old maxims, as my guide:

This Tablet

Tempus edax rerum.
Vincet veritas.

Principiis obsta.

Vitiis nemo sine nascitur.

Spes mea in Deo.

Spero meliora.

Was erected in remembrance of

ROBERT LOGIC, Esq.

Who was viewed throughout the circle of his acquaintances as
A MAN,

In every sense of the word,
VALUABLE AS GOLD!

MIRTH and GOOD-HUMOUR were always at his elbows; but
DULL CARE

Was never allowed a seat in his presence.

ROBERT LOGIC.

He played the first fiddle in all companies, and was never out of tune:
BOB was a wit of the first quality;

3ut his SATIRE was general, and levelled against the follies of mankind;
PERS..NALITY and SCANDAL he disclaimed :

His exertions were always directed to make others happy.
As a CHOICE SPIRIT, he was unequalled;

And as a SINCERE FRIEND, never excelled; but in his character of a
MAN OF THE WORLD,

BOB LOGIC was a Mirror to all his Companions.
MANKIND had been his study; and he had perused the Great
Book of Life

With superior advantages; and his COMMENTARIES O
MEN AND MANNERS

Displayed not only an enlarged mind; but his OPINIONS were
gentlemanly and liberal.

His intimate knowledge of VICE had preserved him from being VICIOUS;
by which source he was able to discriminate with effect; and
VIRTUE appeared more beautiful in his eyes.

TRUTH was his polar star; and INTEGRITY his sheet anchor.
ADVERSITY Could not reduce his noble mind,
And PROSPERITY was not suffered to play tricks with his feelings:
HE WAS A MAN UNDER ALL CIRCUMSTANCES!
FLATTERY he despised; while CANDOUR obtained his respect; and
the corner-stone of his character was-SINCERITY.

fie was charitable, but not ostentatious, and a well-wisher to all the world.
His Friends

TOM AND JERRY,

Lamenting his severe loss in Society, trust, that upon the
AWFUL DAY OF RECKONING,

The Great Auditor of Accounts will find his BALANCE SHEET
Correct, (errors excepted):

And as the whole tenour of BOB LOGIC'S life had been A VOLUME
OF PLEASURE, they sincerely hope it will be

WELL BOUND at the last!

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TAKING A SYNOPSIS OF WELL, I hope I don't itrude, but I wish I may die if ever I saw so lively a sight! 'tis beautiful! All bustle, all glorious confusion; but, nevertheless, all happiness. I am sorry my Paulina is not here, she is so very fond of a bit of sport-my Rib would enjoy it so much. I really don't wish to intrude; but one cannot intrude here. I should think they are such a set of jolly dogs, all hail fellow well met. Sporting of al! sports-pick and choose, as my fruit-woman says, where you like best, according to your fancy. Here's HORSE-RACING, HUNTING, MILLING, CRICKET, SAILING, BOXING, ANGLING, SHOOTING, &c. Every body is on the qui vire-some to look after the blunt-others to 'drop it,' as the sporting folks say. What funny fellows they are ! Lots of sharps to be met with, and plenty of flats to be picked up! But it is al

THE SPORTING WORLD. right: what precious dull' Old Fogeys we should soon be, if we had not something now and then to divert our attention from the crosses and losses in this life, and to rub off the rust of Care' from our minds! we might also lay down and die with grief, and according to the song,

"Let us all be unhappy together."

No, no-that will never do for Paul Pry. Blow me, if I don't love a bit of life; and I am not one of those sort of chaps who say they enjoy the 'luxury of woe!' I am for the other side of the picture-to laugh and grow fat. Besides the old English sports do good to all classes of life-the money is continually changing masters at such times-the rich man spends it freely, and the poor fellow finds the advantages resulting from these sort of

E

amusements for the sale of his wares. As the late Lord Byron said,

CASH does, and CASH alone;

CASH rules the grove, and fells it too besides ; Without CASH, camps were thin, and courts were none; Without CASH

I wish I may die, "if I an't all my eye and Betty Martin:" and Lord Byron, great a man as he was, if he were alive now, he could not say a bit more to the purpose. Therefore, as I often tell my Paulina over our twankey, and Sally Lunn, when she and I can't match our horses together, every one to his fancy: and so it ought to be there is nothing like variety -and the sporting world gives you a fine sample of it. May I be hanged, if I don't like to hear those sporting chaps chaff, as they call it; you cannot be dull in their company; yet, nevertheless, there is a great deal of routine about their conversation, and they scarcely ever open their mouths without finishing the sentence with, "I'll bet you 2 to 1; 6 to 4; and so on, that you do not name the winner :" indeed, without a bet amongst these sort of gentry, any thing like interest seems to evaporate from their minds, and the whole of their arguments become little else than "stale, flat, and unprofitable."

Blow me, if ever I shall forget it the longest day I have to live; indeed, it always makes me laugh whenever the circumstance flashes across my memory, although the first time that I told it to Paulina I thought she would have snapped my nose off. She looked at me with such an ill-natured frown that I did not know what to make of it, when she observed that, I ought to have been ashamed of myselfit really was profane, nay, quite awful. Something like making game of the church. But Lord bless your unsophisticated soul, answered I, you never Paulina were more in the basket in your life time, to think that I would make game of the church! Indeed, I know myself too well for that: because I am well assured there are several good one's amongst them at all events. I have lived long enough to know that the 'Devil is never half so black as he is painted;' and in spite of all the songs and balderdash made against the clergy, I shall always pay respect to the 'good ones' of the cloth :

At the sign of the horse,
Old Spintext of course,

Each night took his pipe and his pot;
O'er a jorum of nappy,
Quite pleasant and happy,

Was plac'd the canonical sot!

However, that is neither here nor there to my story; but that Tom Six-to-Four was such a precious fellow for betting, that I happened once accidentally to meet him in a chapel, when he, without the least hesitation, offered me a wager of 3 to 2 that he would mention the time by five minutes nearer than I did, when old Spintext had finished his sermon. Blow me, if ever I felt so much ashamed in all my life, and I did not know where to put my head; therefore, I was compelled to bolt,

and cut the sermon, in order to prevent behaving i towards the minister, or disrespectfully to the congregation.

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But, nevertheless, there are a gay, highspirited, liberal-minded, set of fellows, who forget and forgive in spite of all their little 'blowings up' to get a point the best of one another in a bet: and likewise the right sort of chaps to make the money fly, as the tradesmen call it, and, to keep trade moving. Blow me if I don't remember the "FOURIN-HAND CLUB," as they called themselves :that was the 'time of day' for the Sporting World, as my friend Jack Dash used to say, when you might meet with a 'mub of swells' in every street at the west end of the town, and well breeched' into the bargain, with lots of goldfinches to make the 'wisit pleasant.' Talk of the procession of the mail coaches compared with the fours,' why they must not be mentioned in the same day with the elegant turn-outs of the Club. It was quite a treat to see them start from Hyde Park Corner; such prime cattle, I never saw before nor since, proper high-bred ones, quite beauties: and Í wish I may die, if every one of their drags, yes, they used to call them drags, I well remember, were not complete pictures to look at, and ought to have been framed and glazed for the honor of the coachmakers, and to perpetuate the taste of the club. They were indeed, real gentlemen coachmen dressed like gentlemen-and also looked like gentlemen, although their toggery was sporting like, and appeared rather knowing. I think now I see Mr. Charles Buxton, their leader, mount the box and give the signal for starting: I fancy he was a fine fellow to put-'em-along; an ornament and honor to the road; followed by Lord Hawke, nothing else but a good one to get over the ground; and close after him the Earl of Portarlington, an excellent whip. Mr. Akers, also a capital coachman; and then Mr. Osbaldeston with his 'Canary,' as those high-bred ones used to call his vehicle; indeed, it was slap-up to the echo, that is, slap up again; you could not keep your eyes off his drag, it was such an elegant articlea pattern for all other coachmen. The Hon. Captain Agar, who well knew what to do with four prime tits before him; Sir Harry Vane Tempest was likewise 'bang up' to the mark; and he S. S. of the Club; Sir John Rogers, who could handle the ribbons with as much ease and dexterity as he did his feather, to make "all right." The Earl of Sefton pushed along with all the style of a first rate charioteer; Mr. Wedderburne Webster, equally on the qui rive to add style to the club; and the Hon. Lincoln Stanhope, full of life and fire, scarcely able to hold in his prime' goers' they were such out-and-outers. Major Pelby, safe, pieasant, and easy, driving with all the sang froid, as if toddling over a bowling green. Sir Bellingham Graham, at home to a peg. A regular sporting herowell furnished for the box, the chace, or the

race course. Nothing to learn, but complete at all points-the proprietor, horses, and drag, all of a-piece-excellent. Sir Godfrey Webster-a regular dash, neck-or-nothing, turf or turnpike, and no odds about the matter. Never on the fret, but who looked after the leader, and made the wheelers do their work -might have got a birth for a regular dragsman, and no questions asked-the whip looked well in his hands. Sir Charles Bamfylde, pluck to the back bone-too game to be beaten on any suit-with the prads quite under his command. Mr. Champion, nothing wanting to show off' well. Mr. Harrison, a right one, and never at fault; and, though last not least in the catalogue of excellence, Sir John Lade, the emperor of whips-whose title precludes the necessity of any further comments. Blow me, if I would not walk, nay, almost hop, ten miles to see such a club start now-a-days; but the young Swells do not appear to me to have half the spunk the above Choice Spirits' possessed. They were, indeed, nothing else but rummy ones!

The proprietor of race-horses will entertain you for hours together with the blood, bone, and pedigree of his high-bred cattle; but ask him to trace his family connections, and he will laugh at you for being a bore, and wonder how you could waste your time upon such dry uninteresting details. Telling you, at the same time, to let the dead rest in their graves, as he has objects of greater importance in view.

See the Course throng'd with gazers, the sports are begun,

What confusion, but hear! I'll bet you, Sir! done! Ten thousand strange rumours resound far and near, Lords, hawkers, and jockeys, assail the tir'd ear; While with neck like a rainbow, erecting his crest, Pamper'd, prancing, and pleas'd, nis head touching his breast

"I'll do

Scarcely snuffing the air, he's so proud and elate, The HIGH-METTLED RACER first starts for the plate What a beautiful race! A handkerchief might cover the whole of them! How charmingly FANNY moves her legs! What speed! She's a picture of a horse! There's nothing like her on the course for blood and bone! The mare wins the Cup for 1000 gs. "Done! once more, if you like!" "Done!" it again, Sir!" "You do to the end of the chapter! She is not the favorite, and that's quite enough for me to lay upon her. Bar Long Legs and the Duke, and I'll take the field." My eye, did you ever see such whipping and slashing! There's jockeyship! Neck and neck! What prime ones! It must be a dead heat!" "No, no!" "Huzza! FANNY's got the lead-she keeps it! What a plunge! Go along, my dear FANNY-she passes the winning post! She's won the Cup!

That's the time of day.-- Huzza! Huzza!" I wish I may die, if this sort of sporting lingo is not very moving: it keeps all our senses upon the alert; and, for the time being, the interest is kept up so strongly on our minds, that nothing e'se is thought of but the winning horse

And then the FOX-HUNTER, who thinks he is always at the heels of the fox, if you listen to his discourse; yet, I wish I may die if it don't do one good to hear him, there is so much spirit in his description:

-Hark! what loud shouts

hound

Re-echo through the groves! he breaks away:
Shrill horns proclaim his flight. Each straggling
Strains o'er the lawn to reach the distant pack.
'Tis triumph all, and joy.”

It was the fox I saw as he came down the
hill those crows directed me which way to
look, and the sheep ran from him as he passed
along. The hounds are now on the very
spot, yet the sheep stop them not, for they
dart beyond them. Now see with what
eagerness they cross the plain! Galloper no
longer keeps his place. Brusher takes it:
see how he flings for the scent, and how im-
petuously he runs! How eagerly he took the
lead, and how he strives to keep it! yet
Victor comes up apace.
He reaches him!
See what an excellent race it is between
them! It is doubtful which will reach the
cover first! how eagerly they strain !-now
Victor, Victor! Ah! Brusher you are beat:
Victor first tops the hedge. See there! see
how they all take it in their strokes! The
hedge cracks with their weight, so many jump
at once. Blow me, if I an't all in raptures
with their discourse-it is all life: and as I
say to my Paulina, when I can't get her out
of bed in a morning, it is exercise is the best
doctor-I hate apothecary's bills-and I al-
ways cry out when I see their draughts come
into my house; throw physic to the dogs,
I'll have none of it.' And the best way too,
I'll be hanged if it an't?

6

Neither is the pigeon-shooter at a loss for arguments to support his favorite sport; and he will also keep you engaged in conversation for half a day together, to hear about his exploits at the Red House: that he may be backed with safety, as he is in the possession of a gun that never misses the bird, either from the trap or in a preserve, he is such a good marksman. Blow me, if it does not make me laugh heartily sometimes to hear some of these chaps praise themse.ves, and lay it on as thick as mustard-they' out-herod Herod,' so much with their would-be crack shots; but then, as I tell my Paulina, there is nothing like being good-natured-that 'more flies are caught with honey than with vinegar;' so I accommodate them and swallow it all as gospel what they assert. By which means I never lose a friend. And I wish I may die if it an't the best way-there is nothing got by contradiction. Then sometimes in an evening I drop in to near a bit of a chant after they have killed baskets full of birds-which gives a zest to their glasses of liquor; and which also enables them to blow 'dull Care' away with the whiffs from their cigars :

There's no rural sport surpasses, PIGEON SHOOTING, ciruling glasses,

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