d, save for half-a-dozen cavalrymen
who come riding down it, their brilliant red uniforms lighting up the dull
air through which the sunlight vainly endeavours to struggle. Their horses
are bespattered with mud; there is mud everywhere--a thick, glutinous mud;
but when we enter the precincts of the Shaw Farm everything gives place to
an ordered and dainty neatness which is thoroughly characteristic of the
Royal domains.

We are received by Mr. W. Tait, the Queen's Land Steward at Windsor, whose
handsome stalwart figure is so well known to all leading agriculturists,
and conducted to a natty little office decorated with water-colour
drawings of prize cattle, and various other reminiscences of past
triumphs. Mr. Tait's drawing-room, in common with those of his
_confreres_ at Windsor, is embellished by various signed portraits of Her
Majesty and the Royal family.

From here, we cross the road and enter a stable where two beautiful old
grey carriage horses are being prepared by one of the farm hands for our
inspection, to a continuous accompaniment of sibilant ostler language.
They have evidently been running wild in the park for some time; each
white coat is stained with mud, and burrs stick tenaciously to their long
tails. An attendant at the farm is rubbing them down, talking to them, and
making them generally presentable. He is evidently on good terms with his
charges, for one playfully nibbles his broad back, whilst the other tries
to steal his red pocket-handkerchief. "Flora" and "Alma" were presented to
Her Majesty by the late King Victor Emanuel of Italy. They are about
fourteen hands high, tremendously powerful, and beautifully shaped. One of
them has also been used to draw the Queen's chair about the grounds; but
they are both now regarded as honoured pensioners, and do no work at all.

The kindliness and affection with which Her Majesty speaks of favourite
animals in her various writings may well assure us that in the midst of
state and family cares, manifold though they be, her old pets, even after
death, are not forgotten. Of this we have evidence later on.

The next shed to that of the old greys is occupied by a magnificent
chestnut charger over seventeen hands high, once the property of the late
Emperor Frederic of Germany. In appearance, this charger is as fresh and
vigorous as a horse of five. It was given by the Emperor to Prince
Christian, who rode it for four years. The charger has a sprightly, though