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appliances, and contrivances here adopted, | focus of architectural effect. At a desk near render this part of a club house well worth the entrance is stationed the hall-porter, the study of a practical architect, more whose office it is to receive and keep an especially as scarcely any information what account of all messages, cards, letters, &c, ever respecting kitchens, and other domestic and to take charge of the box into which offices, is to be obtained from books even the members put letters to be delivered to professedly on the subject of domestic the postman; his function is therefore one architecture. Besides the kitchen itself, that requires unremitting punctuality and properly so called, there are various depend attention. The two chief apartments on encies belonging to it, for stores of the am- this floor are the morning-room and coffeemunition du bouche — special larders and room,* the first of which is the place of pantries for every kind of materiel, viz., not general rendezvous in the early part of the only for meat generally, but for cold meat, day, and for reading the newspapers. They game, fish, vegetables, confectionary, sepa- are, of course, very spacious apartments, rately. That there are various store-rooms but of comparatively sober characterand cellars hardly needs be said; and in though for the new “ Carlton" coffee-room a addition to them, there are one or more high degree of orpateness has been studied servants' halls, a clerk of the kitchen's room, The only other public room on this floor is butler's do., together with others of the the house-dining room, yet it can hardly principal domestics. Hence the basement be reckoned among them, at least not among of a club-house requires quite as much or the “show” rooms, it being, it would seem, more study and contrivance than any other etiquette that it should be of extreme plainpart of the plan; and in order to double ness, however lavishly other parts of the the space to which it would else be confined, interior may be decorated. With regard to it is usually sunk to a very great depth, so its particular denomination and purpose, it as to obtain an additional floor within it, may be proper here to explain that, although that is, an entresol between the lowermost the habitués of the club take their meals in or kitchen floor and the apparent external the coffee-room, some of the members occaground-floor. This economy of plan--which sionally—perhaps about once a month, make may be said to be peculiarly English-pro- up a set dinner party, for which they prevides a complete babitation for the domestic viously put down their names, the day and and official part of the establishment, and number of guests being fixed; and such an invisible one also, provided it be properly social quasi-private reunions around the screened out by dwarf parapet walls or “mahogany,” which may be termed remibalustrading, to prevent the area being niscences of the clubs of other times, are in overlooked, as is done at the Travellers' and club parlance styled house-dinners. Another Reform, where such inclosure below en room, which, however, is wanting in some hances not a little the general effect of the club-houses—is an ante-room or waiting. elevation by producing a suitable architec- room, where a stranger can have an intertural base, and substituting the ornamental view with a member. for the unsightly. In those club-houses Ascending to the upper or principal floor, which have baths, they, and the dressing. we there find the evening or drawing-room, rooms annexed to them, are placed in the and card-room, the library, and writing room; entresol.

the first-mentioned of which is made the On the ground-floor the principal hall is superlative degree, if not always of architecsometimes entered immediately from the tural effect, of the embellishment aimed at. street; in other instances it is preceded by With regard to the card-room, Hone soit an outer vestibule of smaller dimensions and qui mal y pense !-gambling and games of far more simple architectural character, chance are interdicted; not even so much as which disposition is by far the better of the what Lady Townly calls“ poor, piddling, two, inasmuch as it produces greater extent five-guinea whist” is permitted; therefore, of approach, secures greater privacy and protection from draughts of air to the inner

• In some of the club-houses there is also what

is called the “Strangers' Coffee-room," into which hall and the rooms opening into it, and also

members can introduce their friends as occasions! keeps in reserve what may be called the visitors.

From Dickens' Household Words."

if any gamblers there be, they must either some, so tractable, so intelligent, so well do penance at their club, or seek some refuge cared for, and so well appreciated, as in in some less scrupulous and strait-laced this country; and that, in consequence of society. For many, no doubt, the intellect the national fondness for races his breed has .ual refectory or library possesses as strong been improved until he has attained his attractions as any other feature, since it present excellency-believing all this, we supplies them with all the journalism and think it quite possible to do him justice, the cream of the literature of the day. The without defiling the subject with any allusion writing-room is also a very great accommo- to the knavery to which he, sometimes, innodation, for many gentlemen write their let. | cently gives rise. Those who practise it are ters at, and date from, their club. Upon his vulgar parasites ; for the owners of racethis floor is generally the committee-room, horses number among them the highest and and likewise the secretary's room. The next most honorable names in the country. or uppermost floor, which, however, does Financially, the subject is not unworthy not show itself externally, it being concealed of notice. Racers give employment to thouwithin the roof, is appropriated partly to sands. According to Captain Rous, there the billiard and smoking-rooms, and partly are upwards of two hundred thorough-bred to servants' dormitories, which divisions are stallions, and one thousand one hundred kept distinct from each other.

brood mares, which produce about eight hundred and thirty foals annually; of these there are generally three in the first class of race-horses, seven in the second class ;

and they descend gradually in the scale to EPSOM.

the amount of four hundred and eighty, one A STRAGGLING street, an undue propor. half of which never catch the judge's eye ; tion of inns, a large pond, a pump, and a the remainder are either not trained, or are magnificent brick clock case, make up, found unworthy at an early period. with a few more touches not necessary to The number of race-courses is one hundred be given here—the picture of the metropolis and eleven ; of which three are in Ireland, of English racing, and the fountain of Ep- and six in Scotland. som salts. For three hundred and sixty- It is Monday—the Monday before the four days in the year a cannon-ball might Derby day, and a railway takes us, in less be fired from one end of Epsom to the other than an hour, from London Bridge to the without endangering human life. On the capital of the racing world, close to the three hundred and sixty-fifth, or Derby day, abode of its Great Man, who is-need we a population surges and rolls, and scrambles add the Clerk of the Epsom Course. It through the place, that may be counted in is, necessarily, one of the best houses in this millions.

place; being--honor to literature-a fourEpsom during the races, and Epsom at ishing bookseller's shop. We are presented any other time, are things as unlike as the to the official. He kindly conducts us to the Desert of Sahara and the interior of the Downs, to show how the horses are temPalace of Glass in Hyde Park. We intend, porarily stabled ;. to initiate us into some of for the edification of the few who know the mysteries of the “field;" to reveal to us, Epsom races only by name, and for the in fact, the private life of the race-horse. amusement (we hope) of the many who we arrived at a neat farm-house, with have sported over its Downs during the more outbuildings than are usually seen apraces, to give some account of Epsom under pended to so modest a homestead. A sturdy, both aspects.

well-dressed, well-mannered, purpose-like, Our graver readers need not be alarmed- sensible-looking man, presents himself. He we know little of horses ; and, happily, for has a Yorkshire accent. A few words passed purselves, nothing of sporting; but, believing between him and the Clerk of the Course, in the dictum of the Natural History chap in which we hear the latter asseverate with ters of the Universal Spelling Book that much emphasis that we are, in a sporting the “ horse is a noble animal,” and that he sense, quite artless — we rather think is nowhere so noble, so well-bred, so hand. / “green," was the exact expression—that we never bet a shilling, and are quite inca- " these horses are as quiet as you are, pable, if even willing, to take advantage of and I say it without offence-just as well any information, or of any inspection vouch- bebaved. It is quite laughable to hear the safed to us. Mr. Filbert (the trainer) hesi- notions of people who are not used to them. tates no longer. He moves his bat with They are the gentlest and most tractable honest politeness ; bids us follow him, and creeturs in creation. Then, as to shape and lays his finger on the latch of a stable. symmetry, is there any thing like them ?"

The trainer opens the door with one hand; “ We acknowledge that Pretty Perthand, with a gentleman-like wave of the the mare in the adjoining box-could hardly other, would give us the precedence We be surpassed for beauty." hesitate. We would rather not go in first. “Ah, can you wonder at noblemen and We acknowledge an enthusiastic admiration gentlemen laying out their twenty and of the race-horse ; but at the very mention thirty thousand a year on them ?" of a race horse, the stumpy animal whose “So much ?" portrait headed our earliest lesson of equine' “ Wby, my gov'nor's stud costs us fivehistory, in the before-quoted “Universal and-twenty thousand a year, one year with Spelling Book," vanishes from our view, and another. There's an eye, sir !" the animal described in the Book of Job The large, prominent, but mild optics of prances into our mind's eye: “ The glory of Pretty Perth are at this moment turned full his nostril is terrible. He mocketh at fear, upon us. Nothing, certainly, can be gentler and is not affrighted. He swalloweth the than the expression that beams from them. ground with the fierceness of his rage.” She is “ taking," as Mr. Filbert is pleased to To enjoy, therefore, a fine racer-not as one say, "measure of us." She does not stare does a work of art-we like the point of vulgarly, or peer upon us a half-bred indifsight to be the point of distance. The safest ference; but, having duly and deliberately point, in case of accident, (say, for instance, satisfied her mind respecting our external a sudden striking-out of the hinder hoofs,) / appearance, allows her attention to be lei. we bold to be the vanishing point-a point surely diverted to some oats with which the by no means attainable on the inside of that boy had just supplied the manger. contracted kind of stable known as a loose " It is all a mistake,” continues Mr. Filbert, box."

commenting on certain vulgar errors respectThe trainer evidently mistakes our fears ing race-horses ; "thorough-breds are not for modesty. We boldly step forward to nearly so rampagious as mongrels and half the outer edge of the threshold, but un breds. The two horses in this stall are gencomfortably close to the hind-quarters of tlefolks, with as good blood in their veins as Pollybus, a " favorite" for the Derby. When the best nobleman in the land. They would we perceive that he has neither bit or curb; | be just as back'ard in doing any thing unnor bridle, nor halter ; that he is being worthy of a lady or gentleman, as any lord “rubbed down" by a small boy, after having or lady in St. James's—such as kicking, or taken his gallops; that there is nothing on rearing, or shying, or biting. The pedigree earth-except the small boy-to prevent of every horse that starts in any great race, his kicking, or plunging, or biting, or butting is to be traced as regularly up to James the his visitors to death, we breathe rather First's Arabian, or to Cromwell's White thickly. When the trainer exclaims, “Shut | Turk, or to the Darley or Godolphin barbs, the door, Sam !" and the little groom does as your great English families are to the his master's bidding, and boxes us up, we Conqueror. The worst thing they will do, desire to be breathing the fresh air of the is running away now and then with their Downs again.

jockeys. And what's that? Why, only the “Bless you, sir !" says our good-tempered animals animal-spirit running away with informant, when he sees us shrink away him. They are not," adds Mr. Filberts, with from Pollybus, changing sides at a signal a merry twinkle in his eye, “ the only young from his cleaner; “ these horses" (we look bloods that are fond of going too fast.” round, and for the first time perceive, with To our question whether he considers that a tremor, the heels of another high-mettled a race-horse could go too fast, Mr. Filbert racer protruding from an adjoining stall) gives a jolly negative, and remarks that it

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is all owing to high feeding and fine air ; | for about a year, then he is taken up;'
"for, mind you, horses get much better air that is, bitted and backed by a 'dumb-
to breathe than men do, and more of it." jockey-a

'-a cross of wood made for the pur-
All this while the two boys are sibillating pose. When he has got a little used to
lustily, while rubbing and polishing the that, we try him with a speaking jockey-a
coats of their horses, which are as soft as child some seven or eight years old, who has
velvet, and much smoother. When the lit- been born, like the colt, in the stables.
tle grooms come to the fetlock and pastern, From that time till the horse retires from
the chamois leather they have been using tlfe turf, the two are inseparable. They
is discarded as too coarse and rough, and eat, drink, sleep, go out and come in to
they rub away down to the hoofs with their gether. Under the directions of the trainer,
sleek and plump bands. Every wish they the boy tells the horse what to do, and he
express, either in words or by signs, is does it; for he knows that he is indebted
cheerfully obeyed by the horse. The terms to the boy for every thing he gets. When
the quadruped seems to be on with the he is hungry, it is the boy that gives him his
small biped, are those of the most easy and corn; when he is thirsty, the boy hands him
intimate friendship. They thoroughly un- bis water; if he gets a stone in his foot, the
derstand one another. We feel a little boy picks it out. By the time the colt is
ashamed of our mistrust of so much docility, old enough to run, he and the boy have got
and leave the stable with much less awe of to like one another so well that they fret to
a race-horse than we had entered it. be away from one another. As for bribing,

"And now, Mr. Filbert, one delicate ques- why, you may as well try to bribe the horse
tion- What security is there against these to poison the boy, as the boy to let the horse
horses being drugged, so that they may lose be injured.”
a race ?"

“But the thing has happened, Mr. Filbert?"
Mr. Filbert halts, places his legs apart,

“ Not so much as is talked about. Someand his arms akimbo, and throws into his times a likely foal is sent to a training stable, reply a severe significance, mildly tinged and cracked up as something wonderful He with indignation. He commences with say. is entered to run. On trial, he turns out ing, "I'll tell you where it is—there is a to be next to nothing; and the backers, to deal more said about foul play and horses save their reputation, put it about that the going amiss than there need be.”

horse was played tricks with. There is
“ Then the boys are never heavily hardly a great race, but you hear something
bribed ?"

about horses going amiss by foul play.”
“Heavily bribed, sir !” Mr. Filbert con “ Do many of these boys become jockeys?"
tracts his eyes, but sbarpens up their ex " Mostly. Some of them are jockeys al-
pression, to look the suspicion down. ready, and ride their own horses, as they
“ Bribed !-it may not be hard to bribe a call them. Here comes one."
man, but it's not so easy to bribe a boy. A miniature man, with a horsewhip neatly
What's the use of a hundred-pound note to twisted round the crop or handle, opens the
a child of ten or twelve years old ? Try gate.
him with a pen'north of apples, or a slice of “ Well Tommy, how are you, Tommy ?"
pudding, and you have a better chance ; • Well, sir, bobbish. Fine day, Mr. Fil-
though I would not give you the price of a bert.”
sugar-stick for it. Nine out of ten of these Although Mr. Filbert tells us in a whisper
lads would not have a hair of their horse's that Tommy is only twelve next birth-day,
tail ruffled if they could help it, much more Tommy looks as if he had entered far into
any such harm as drugs or downright poi. his teens. His dress is deceptive. Light
son. The boy and the horse are so fond of trowsers terminating in buttons, laced shoes,
one another, that a racing stable is a regular long striped waistcoat, a cut-away coat, a
happy family of boys and horses. When colored cravat, a collar to which juveniles
the foal is first born, it is turned loose into aspire under the name of "stick-ups," and a
the paddock; and if his mother don't give Paris silk hat, form his equipment.
him enough milk, the cow makes up the de " Let's see, Tommy; what stakes did you
ficiency. He scampers about in this way | win last f”

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Tommy Aicks with the end of his whip. We then inspect the offices for the Clerk of crop a speck of dirt from the toe of his “off” the Course himself; wine cellars, beer-cellara, shoe, and replies carelessly, “ The Great larders, sculleries, and kitchens, all as giganNorthamptonshire upon Valentine. But then tically appointed, and as copiously furnished I have won a many smaller stakes, you as if they formed part of an Ogre's Castle, know, Mr. Filbert."

To furnish the refreshment-saloon, the Grand Are there many jockeys so young as Tom- Stand has in store two thousand four hundred my?

tumblers, one thousand two hundred wide“Not many so young,” says Tommy, tying glasses, three thousand plates and dishes, and a knot in his whip thong, “ but a good many several of the most elegant vases we have smaller.” Tommy then walks across the seen out of the Glass Palace, decorated with straw-yard to speak to some stable friend he artificial flowers. An exciting odor of bas come to see. Tommy has not only the cookery meets us in our descent. Rows of appearance, but the manners of a man. spits are turning rows of joints before blazing

“ That boy will be worth money," says Mr. walls of fire. Cooks are trussing fowls; Filbert. " It is no uncommon thing for a confectioners are making jellies; kitchenmaster to give a lad like that a hundred maids are plucking pigeons; huge crates of pound when he wins a race. As he can't boiled tongues are being garnished on dishes. spend it in hard-bake, or ginger-beer, or One hundred and thirty legs of lamb, sixtymarbles, (the young rogue does, occasionally, five saddles of lamb, and one hundred and get rid of a pound or two in cigars,) he saves thirty shoulders of lamb; in short, a xbole it. I have known a racing-stable lad begin flock of sixty-five lambs have to be roasted, the world at twenty, with from three to four and dished, and garnished, by the Derby thousand pound.”

day. Twenty rounds of beef, four hundred Tommy is hopping back over the straw, lobsters, one hundred and fifty tongues, as if he bad forgotten something. “O, I twenty fillets of veal, one hundred sirloins of beg your pardon for not asking before," he beef, five hundred spring chickens, three says, “but-how does Mrs. Filbert find her. hundred and fifty pigeon-pies; a countless self ?"

number of quartern loaves, and an incredible “Quite well, thank you, Tommy.” Tommy quantity of ham have to be cut up into says he is glad to hear it, and walks off like sandwiches; eight hundred eggs have got to a family-man.

be boiled for the pigeon-pies and salads. The Our interview with Mr. Filbert is finished, forests of lettuces, the acres of cress, and and we pace towards the race-course with its beds of radishes which will have to be chopped indefatigable clerk. Presently, he points to up; the gallons of " dressing" that will have a huge white object that rears its leaden roof to be poured out and converted into salads on the apex of the highest of the “ Downs." for the insatiable Derby day, will be best It is the Grand Stand. It is so extensive, so understood by a memorandum from the strong, and so complete, that it seems built chief of that department to the chef-defor eternity, instead of for busy use during cuisine, which happened, accidentally, to fall one day in the year, and for smaller requisi. under our notice; “Pray don't forget a large tion during three others. Its stability is tub and a birch-broom for mixing the salad! equal to St. Paul's or the Memnonian Tem. We are preparing to ascend, when we hear ple. Our astonishment, already excited, is the familiar sound of a printing machine. increased when our cicerone tells us that he Are we deceived ! O, no! The Grand pays as rent, and in subscriptions to stakes Stand is like the kingdom of China—selfto be run for, nearly two thousand pounds supporting, self-sustaining. It scorns foreign per annum for that stand. Expecting an aid; even to the printing of the Racing unusually great concourse of visitors this Lists. This is the source of the innumeryear, he has erected a new wing, extended able cards with which hawkers persecute the the betting inclosure, and fitted up two sporting world on its way to the Derby, from apartments for the exclusive use of ladies. the Elephant and Castle to the Grand Stand,

Here we are! Let us go into the base.“ Dorling's list! Dorling's correct list! with ment. First into the weighing-house, where the names of the horses, and colors of the the jockeys “come to scale," after each race. I riders !"

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