Mr. Editor, in your very largest type; while the honourable members throw up a half-crown as to how he's to have it-whether the head keeper is to go directly and fetch the poor fellow a plate of beef, or a -punch on the head. Notwithstanding, however, the apparent novelty of Mr. Wakley's system, it is not altogether original, as the following story, the heads of which we heard or read of some time since, goes far to prove: A gentleman who, in Mr. Berkeley's classification of poachers, would stand by or for the swindling blackleg, having taken out a certificate without any good grounds for so doing, possessing, in fact, no grounds at all of his own, started like another Columbus to look for a country, and found himself, after his second shot, face to face with one of the natives, who, not knowing how his antagonist might stand bullying and blackguarding, drew it out "mild." "Are you aware, you sir, that you are infringing on the law of the land?" "In what manner, sir?" "What manor, sir? Why my manor, sir: they are all my manors in this neighbourhood." "Indeed, sir. Well, I am sure all I can say from what I have seen of them, they are very good manners, and I trust will act up to the old rule which proclaims in reference to their effect on us-non sinit esse feros. -n "Yes, yes; O yes, that's all very fine I dare say; but dit! I'd only ask you what you would do if you saw a fellow blazing away right in the middle of your best shooting? "What would I do?" "Aye, what would you do if you were in my place?" As you ask me, I'll tell you exactly what I think would be proper and gentlemanlike conduct on my part on such an occasion: I should, for the first move, ride up to him in much the same civil style you have accosted me, and after learning that he did'nt know where he was, or on whose property he had strayed, proceed in something like this strain: "My dear sir, the heat of the sun at this time is very oppressive; the rain we had last night has rendered it very bad walking, particularly in these turnips; and really you look very much fatigued. My house, sir, is in that clump of elms you see yonder, and I trust you will favour me so far as to walk up and refresh yourself with some cold chicken and a glass of Madeira, which, as I said before, after the exercise you have taken, I'm sure you must be in need of." In something the same manner, with some such seemingly ironical and equivocal greeting, does Mr. Wakley salute his poacher:"Eh! what, I've caught you at last, have I, my fine fellow?— what'll you take to drink?" But, joking apart, this gentleman must have had what the legs would call very capital hedging; whenever he was in want of anything to eat or drink-entertainment perhaps would be a better term, out he started to trespass on Mr. Wakley's preserves or generosity-M. or N., which ever the case might be. If he met with the game, he filled his bags; if he met with the squire, he filled his belly, with this understanding, that in the latter case a blow-up preceded the blow-out. We should like to see Mr. Harry Hill square a book on better terms. Still the grand question remains unanswered; for our own part, as to actually putting a stop to poaching, we certainly think Mr. Berkeley's, though a two-handed game, by far the more efficacious. "Poaching," we are told over and over again, "generally arises from a want of honest hard work," which, from what we ourselves have seen of the practice, we are readily inclined to believe. Poaching does arise from a want of honest hard work; and we will tell you where, to the greatest extent, this said want will be found-in the poacher's own proper person. The want of beer, bacca, or character, of self respect or respect to his superiors, are all inferior to this grand ingredient in the making of a poacher. Let us, however, suppose that a man, without the very necessaries of life, is, in his extremity, forced to the field for food; the tools he requires for such work are not to be had by whistling for, excepting perhaps the dog; but then, though the dog may answer his call, he can't altogether answer his purpose. The flint again he may certainly find, while the very name of the steel suggests a no very expensive mode of obtaining it. On the other hand, there's the charge for the charge to be considered: if he has no shot in the locker, he is not very likely to get any into the belt; and though powder has been said to go off spontaneously, we can't say we ever heard of its coming in that fashion. Last of all, there's the gun, or, as he so aptly designates the one in his hands, "the fouling piece"-the wretched pauper horrified to see his family without firing, goes and buys fire-arms for himself, and deserts his own Mary to spend his nights in the company of some Black Bess, whose terrible attractions must hurry him on to sure and speedy ruin. Another word as to another of his companions in arms-a poor man, a very poor man keeps a dog-why? Because (a bit of the brogue here again) he can't keep himself. Yet what advantage can the dog be to him, since the legislature has forbid his being worked like a horse? The poor man, well aware of all this, takes him from the truck and puts him on the track, turns from drawing carts to drawing covers, and walks complacently enough from Scylla slap into Charybdis! But a barbarian chorus has broken in upon us, and gathering what we can of it, we leave the Messrs. Bright and Berkeley to determine which it be the more politic to preserve-the fine head of game, or the thick head of the poacher. The wire the net! the gun! And whatsoe'er I will A bird to bag, or a hare to run, And here's a ready hand, And spirit proud to show No thought or word for land or lord, But where we will-to go, Let others toil at plough, Or weary ply the flail, With stroke on stroke in the dusty mow, Hard honest work will gladly shirk- For place or well-earned pay, 'Tis little that I care, The tap-room sill my place by day, By night the woods to dare; And thus I'll free my score, With favour due to none, While-wife and child with want p'raps wild- Whene'er the coffers sink, In cover and copse I'll raise the drink, And brave the prison's walls; For woe to keeper then! Who after me had sped, E'en Berkeley's self the shot should shelf, A wire! a net! a gun! Or whatsoe'er I will A bird to bag, or a hare to run, To break through fence and law, The break and bush to beat, From her form to scare the startled hare, Night work, and idle days Will seldom turn to weal, So if stack, or shed, or barn should blaze, Or if off close kept game Our plunder comes to nil, From well-penn'd sheep, while shepherds sleep, Hurrah for wire and gun! And whatsoe'er I will A bird to bag, or a hare to run, When, where, and how I choose, To court a felon's fee, For, 'spite the gad of Times bein' bad, The Times is all for me! Hark! Goblin Chimes and good old times And example show to all yet slow, To up and follow me! CEYLON SPORTS. BY MASTER HARRY. For liberty! Go seek the mountain tops, where with the crashing pines The north wind revels! go where ocean pours O'er horrid rocks, and sports in eddying pools: Aye, go wander over the seven-syllabled mountains of Ceylon, where the elephant stalks abroad in his might, where the gaudy peafowl has made its resting place, where the foot of man has never trod, and where the clear ringing of your rifle alone awakes the astonished air with its endless echoes. Many a time has it been my lot, when detached on out-station duty in the Cinnamon isle, some fifty miles distant from civilization and a mess-room, to have climbed alone, or attended perhaps by a dingy gamebag carrier, over the heights of Adam's Peak and Kamoonakooli, and viewed from their summits the wild unbroken chain of mountains around, that bore no mark to prove that man existed in the world; a bright warm sun smiling over all, a silence like to that of a desolated or an unborn world reigning o'er the scene, save when some startled elk, bursting from its lair, bounds headlong over the craggy peaks, and seeks some still remoter covert, or falls, dying, pierced by the well-directed rifle ball! But to thoroughly understand the beauty of the Ceylon scenery, it is necessary that the reader should pay it a visit; and of all places in which it has been my fortune to have pursued sports, I unhesitatingly give the preference to this little island. The peculiar advantage, however, which this country possesses in comparison with the continent of India, consists in its mildness of climate, which enables the sportsman to pursue his game "from morn to dewy eve," without a certainty, or even a chance, of a jungle fever crowning the day's adventures: indeed, so accommodating is the climate, that a person may start from Colombo, the metropolis (that is, if he is his own master), carrying a thermometer in his pocket, and journeying through Kandy, choose his own temperature, from 100 degrees Fahrenheit at the former place, to six degrees below zero at Newera Ellia, some 9000 feet above the level of the sea; and this journey can be accomplished with the greatest ease in a couple of days, through the most lovely scenery in the world, abounding with game of every description, as I shall hereafter show. About Colombo there is little or nothing to induce the sportsman to patronize a town life. A few snipe are to be had in the neighbourhood during the season, and now and then a deer may be " chevied" by the long dogs through the cinnamon bushes; and, lastly, we must not on any account forget "the races;" for Colombo boasts its meeting every September, and far from despicable running takes place on the "Galle face" sometimes: to be sure it is done in a very small way; but, nevertheless, it keeps alive the English feeling for sport in the breasts of the Britishers, and doubtless awakes one in the hearts of the "indigenous." The races are chiefly supported by the officers of the regiments stationed in the island. A cup is, or rather was, given yearly by the governor, when Sir R. Horton was in office. The "staff" gave a "cocked hat" plate; and the ladies gave their own plate, which I had the luck to carry off three years running. The fathers of the Ceylon turf (for I consider it has two progenitors) are General Churchill, and Mr. Templer, the latter of whom is still in the island, and first and foremost in its sports. The late Sir Edward Barnes ought also to be ranked amongst its first and best supporters. The Colombo races are the only ones that take place in the island; and having given a sufficient account of them in comparison with their merit, let us proceed to more exciting, or rather perhaps more dangerous sport by mountain, field, and flood. Although Ceylon abounds with game of every description, like all other places in the world it possesses its sport, par excellence; and this is-WILD Elephant SHOOTING. Few indeed of our countrymen are there, whose fates have led them to the isle of spices, who have not experienced the pleasure of bringing to the earth with their own unaided hand, the unwieldy monarch of the forest. The wild elephant may literally be said to swarm in Ceylon; and although a great number are taken every year in the kraal (of which anon) for domestic and agricultural purposes, and a still greater num |