urnip!' says Nigger; 'give me the money.'

"'E came back in a few minutes with a bit o' card that looked like a
pawn-ticket.

"'That's done,' he says. 'If it wins we just takes this ticket an' 'e
pays out on it. An' now let's go an' see 'em come out.'

"There wus ten starters, and four changed their minds at the post.
Perishing Percy did some neat an' effective steps that would 'ave gone
better with music, an' then stopped dead to listen for the applause.
Whips nor spurs weren't allowed in the race, an' peaceful persuasion
don't go far with a mule; but about five of 'em pursued the narrow and
straight path that leads to the winning-post. A big, raw-boned animal,
named Gentle Maggot, floundering along with one foot in the franc side
an' tother in the enclosure, with two other feet that couldn't be
simultaneously located, was leading, an' a chestnut named Coughdrop was
a good second. Red Liz was flapping her long ears an' coming along very
genteelly in the rear. When they wus nearly level to us, Nigger whispers
to me to get the cracker ready; but me hands were trembling so with
excitement that I couldn't light it.

"'Give 'em to me, you idjut!' says Nigger, and he plunked one neatly by
Red Liz's ribs. She started, and Nigger plants another one behind 'er.
Then she put 'er 'ead down and tore along like mad. She passed three,
got level with Coughdrop, passed 'er, an' thirty yards from home was
neck with Gentle Maggot. Both Jocks were whooping like mad, but just as
everyone was swearing it was going to be a dead-heat, I thumped Nigger
hard on the back an' yelled out, 'We've won!'

"Spruggy 'ad jerked Red Liz's head down just at the post, an' she 'ad
won by an ear!"

"Well, that was good enough, wasn't it?" said Jimmy, as Docker finished
his narrative with a mournful downward inflexion of voice.

"It would 'ave been," replied Docker; "only Nigger 'ad put the ticket in
'is mouth while 'e lighted the cracker, an' when I thumped 'im on the
back it startled 'im, an'--'_e swallered it_."

* * * * *

SONGS OF SIMLA.

IV.--MRS. HAWKSBEE.

Hazards beset her social groove;
Dilemmas rise--she wriggles free;
Landslip or earthquake cannot move
Her imperturbability.

Where 'er she goes her presence thrills,
And in her youthfulness there shines
The everlasting of our hills,
The evergreenness of our pines.

Hung in a poise that knows no law
The kestrels watch a