his is done with the pleasurable
knowledge that your friend would naturally instal himself in your
house under like circumstances. Here is real charm. Think, too, of the
outdoor life, of those lovely evenings when the air is soft and warm,
the moon at full and of a size never seen in England, when a party of
us would sail out on the lake, drop anchor and dine in the cool
breeze, and after cigars and coffee would sail on again, singing songs
that carried us back to days of yore and bringing a sad yet sweet
strain into thoughts and voices as we glided over the moonlit waters.

Spring and autumn bring the two great events of the year--the races.

Many ports have a capital race-course, which is always circular in
shape, enclosing what are generally the grounds of the recreation
club, while almost every sporting man trains a pony or two, which he
frets and fumes over in a style that would not bemean a Newmarket turf
magnate. Weeks before the meeting, increasing in intensity as the time
shortens and decreasing slowly as the event recedes, the talk is
purely of ponies, ponies, ponies--until the non-racing man droops and
turns away, but without daring to utter one single word of protest
against the prevailing epidemic of pony talk. Race lotteries at the
club afford great excitement to the betting men, when the knowing ones
make books which in the end leave them considerably to the bad, while
those who know nothing rejoice with the joy of fools, thinking that to
their own perspicuity is due the roll of dollars which wanton luck has
thrust upon them.

On the actual race days, of which there are generally two, with a
third or off-day tacked on, things reach a climax. All business is
curtailed or altogether suspended. Everyone wears colours, either his
own or those of a friend, and at eleven o'clock the ladies are driven
to the course in state by happy owners of various nondescript vehicles
furbished up for the occasion. Everyone knows everyone else, the names
of ponies entered have been household words for weeks, while their
supposed merits are open secrets, the jockeys are personal friends,
the weather is bright and warm, the ladies wear their smartest
dresses, the course is kept and order maintained with the aid of
bluejackets from the gun-boat in port, while her drum and fife band or
nigger troupe renders selections of varied merits. A race over, the
successful owner and jockey are seized and carried shoulder high to
the bar