a neighbouring district,
submitted a plan which he expected would baffle all his manoeuvres.
He asked the blind man if he was willing to run 100 yards against his
favourite mare. The offer was immediately accepted--provided he might
CHOOSE THE GROUND, which should be an open space on the adjoining moor.
The stakes were deposited the same evening; and a fine level space being
selected, and the distance marked out with great exactness early the
following morning, the decision followed with little delay. The
party selected to ride against the blind man was much admired for
his horsemanship; and at the appointed time, every preparation being
completed, the signal was given and the race commenced. The horseman was
instantly far ahead, but before he could finish his stipulated distance
the fore feet of his hunter sank deep in a bog, from which, being unable
to extricate them, he came completely over, treating his rider with a
tremendous somerset. The loud shouts of the spectators announced to
the blind man that his expectations were realized. The turf showed no
apparent difference, and was sufficiently strong to carry a man with
safety,--perhaps it would have borne a horse going only at a moderate
pace, but at full speed his feet pierced the sod, and entangled him in
the hidden danger. Metcalfe passed his extended rival, terminated his
career, and won the race before those who had run to the prostrate
horseman could render him any assistance. Indeed, it was too late for
that purpose, he had finished his earthly course having ruptured a
vessel near the heart in his fall!

A NOBLE LORD AND A COMMONER, IN 1823.

A young and wealthy commoner, who seemed to vie with the pea-green in
the desperate folly of getting rid of a suddenly obtained fortune of
L130,000 in ready money, as fast as possible, and whose relish for the
society of legs, bullies, and fighting men was equally notorious, went
to the Fishmonger's Hall Club late one morning, much flushed with wine.
The well-lighted avenues directed him to the French Hazard table. There
was no play going on at the time, but at the entrance of this PIGEON,
who before had been DRAWN of a good round sum, the box and dice were
soon put in motion, and 'seven's the main, seven,' was promptly the cry.
A certain noble lord, who had been for years an experienced NURSE of the
dice, and who knew how to NICK the MAINS or THROW CRABS, as well as the
best leg in England, held the bow. The commoner