ured to
select the surgeon as the subject of a joke. But I forgot. These are
times of peace."

"When men of peace become soldiers," retorted Roper.

"I declare you are very silly!" cried Edith; "and I have a good mind to
send both of you away."

"Death rather than banishment!" said Roper.

"Well, then, do be quiet! I take _such_ an interest in your race, Mr
M'Whirter. Do you know I have two pairs of gloves upon it? So you must
absolutely contrive to win. By the way, what are your colours?"

"Peach-blossom and scarlet."

"How very gallant! I take it quite as a compliment to myself."

"M'Whirter! you're wanted," cried a voice from below.

"Bless me! I suppose it is time for saddling. Farewell, Edith--farewell,
Mary! I shall win if I possibly can."

"Good-by!" said Roper. "Stick on tightly and screw him up, and there's
no fear of Masaniello."

"Where the deuce have you been, M'Whirter?" said Randolph. "Get into the
scales as fast as you can. You've been keeping the whole of us waiting."

"I'll back Masaniello against the field at two to one," said Anthony
Whaup.

"Done with you, in ponies," said Patsey Chaffinch, who was assisting his
brother from the scales.

"Do you feel nervous, M'Whirter?" asked Hosier, a friend who was backing
me rather heavily. "You look a little white in the face."

"To tell you the truth--I do."

"That's awkward. Had you not better take a glass of brandy?"

"Not a bad idea;" and I took it.

"That's right. Now canter him about a little, and you'll soon get used
to it."

I shall carefully avoid having any future occasion to make use of my
dear-bought experience. I felt remarkably sheepish as I rode out upon
the course, and heard the observations of the crowd.

"And wha's yon in the saumon-coloured jacket?"

"It'll be him they ca' Chaffinch."

"Na, man--yon chield wad make twa o' Chaffinch. He's but a feather-wecht
o' a cratur."

"Wow, Jess! but that's a bonnie horse!"

"Bonnier than the man that's on it, ony how."

"Think ye that's the beast they ca' Masonyellow?"

"I'm thinkin' sae. That man can ride nane. He's nae grupp wi' his
thees."

These were the kind of remarks that met my ears as I paced along, nor,
as I must confess, was I particularly elated thereby. Pounset now rode
up.

"Well, M'Whirter, we are to have another sort of race to-day. I half
fear, from the specimen I have seen of Masaniello, that my little mare
runs a poor chance; but Chaffinch will give