variety, its gaiety, and

~393~~ its pride, the most legitimate joys of life may fairly be said to
exist in the country."

"I confess," said Dashall, "that most of the pleasures of life are
comparative, and arise from contrast. Thus the bustle of London
heightens the serenity of the country, while again the monotony of the
country gives additional zest to the ever-varying scenes of London. But
why this observation at a moment when we are in pursuit of fresh game?"

"Nay," said Tallyho, "I know not why; but I spoke as I thought, feeling
as I do a desire to have a pop at the partridges as the season is now
fast approaching, and having serious thoughts of shifting my quarters."

"We will talk of that hereafter," was the reply. "You have an excellent
day's sport in view, let us not throw a cloud upon the prospect before
us--you seem rather in the doldrums. The amusements of this day will
perhaps inspire more lively ideas; and then we shall be present at the
masquerade, which will doubtless be well attended; all the fashion of
the Metropolis will be present, and there you will find a new world,
such as surpasses the powers of imagination--a sort of Elysium
unexplored before, full of mirth, frolic, whim, wit and variety, to
charm every sense in nature. But come, we must not delay participating
in immediate gratifications by the anticipations of those intended for
the future. Besides, I have engaged to give the Champion a cast to the
scene of action in my barouche."

By this time Piccadilly was all in motion--coaches, carts, gigs,
tilburies, whiskies, buggies, dog-carts, sociables, dennets, curricles,
and sulkies, were passing in rapid succession, intermingled with
tax-carts and waggons decorated with laurel, conveying company of the
most varied description. In a few minutes, the barouche being at
the door, crack went the whip, and off they bowled. Bob's eyes were
attracted on all sides. Here, was to be seen the dashing Corinthian
tickling up his tits, and his bang-up set-out of blood and bone, giving
the go-by to a heavy drag laden with eight brawney bull-faced blades,
smoking their way down behind a skeleton of a horse, to whom in all
probability a good feed of corn would have been a luxury; pattering
among themselves, occasionally chaffing the more elevated drivers by
whom they were surrounded, and pushing forward their nags with all the
ardour of a British ~394~~ merchant intent upon disposing of a valuable
cargo of