see out, not to trust to his own judgment of horses in their stable, he cannot conceive that a merry little hack, with good action, and making the most of himself when out, looks of twice the size and importance he did when engaged in the homely occupation of nibbling at his hay, or indulging in a half-doze in his stall. Such men will not be guided as to seeing out such animals as are likely to suit them, nor will they buy such if they are shown them. They have really no right whatever to go to a dealer's stable, or any stable-let them go to a fair: there they will see scores of animals led and ridden; they would fix on what struck their fancy; and the end of it will be they will find their selection looking as different when in their own stable as they did when shown in a fair, as in an adverse ratio did the hundred-and-fifty-guinea nag in his box and out of it. If gentlemen who do not know what they want object to a fair, let them go to a London sale by auction-they will probably think they there see what they want. Let them buy: if they do not, in dealing phrase, get a "dig," and in American parlance "an almighty" one, I am a bad prophet, and things are wonderfully changed. A man, dealer or not, who has a horse or horses to sell, and knows what he is about, is quite willing that people who don't know what they want should go to the fair, the repository, or possibly he would add the d-, provided they do not come to him.

Now let us see how men who do know what they want usually act and express themselves. We will say one of these drives his Stanhope into a dealer's yard, where it is known choice road-horses are to be found. The customer looks as if he knows what he is about; his horse comes stepping into the yard as if he went on India-rubber; stops handily; the tiger or groom jumps out and faces him; the horse perhaps playfully snaps or pretends to snap at him, but standing in an attitude that would seem to say to the dealer-"What do you think of me?" The owner, my life on it, does not bring out the "Mr., I want a horse." If he is a stranger, the dealer sees at a glance that whatever description of horse may be want he must be clever of the sort. If he is known,

the above fact is well-known also. "Weston, (or any other name) I want a hack": this alone from such a man would do; but he perhaps adds, smiling, and pointing to the horse he has driven in, "something like this will do.' Weston makes one of his politest and most deferential bows. "I should think his match would do for any one, sir; the only difficulty is to get such. If you will permit me, I will show you one I consider particularly clever." The chances are, there is a deal: each knows what is wanted. The customer does not give the trouble of seeing out what his critical and close-judging eye tells him is not the sort. The dealer does not pay his customer the bad compliment of attempting to impose any that are not, on his notice.

It is something the same if a judge goes to a hunting dealer. He does not merely state, "I want a hunter;" it would be tantamount to saying to a butcher, "I want a bit of meat." If the customer and the dealer know each other, the former has only to say-"Smart, have you anything by you that I should like, to carry myself?" The reply would be at once-"Yes, I have, sir;" or, "I shall be happy to show you what there is"; or, "I really have not at this moment anything in I should say is likely to please you." What an infinity

of trouble all this saves. The dealer knows he could not talk his customer into purchasing what is not in qualifications his sort; nor would he wish, perhaps, to do so. For, in many cases, retaining the custom of a man who frequently buys far outweighs the consideration of selling him a horse he will afterwards find fault with; for let people say what they will, a respectable dealer cannot, without having recourse to proceedings that he would be quite above practising, impose upon a sensible man and a good judge, nor would he attempt or wish to do so.

Yet there are circumstances under which a man may go to the most respectable dealer in the world, pay a long price, and yet not get anything bordering on what he wishes to have. These are where he cannot make the man understand what he does want, or, supposing him to be able to do this, not permitting the dealer to put into his hands what would suit him, or being determined to buy what the other well knows would not. After he has found this out, he will not, even to himself, admit that he has acted like a fool; so he everywhere affirms the dealer was a rogue. If his friends perceive the animal is not at all suited to the purpose they see him used for, the chances are he says, "Aye, this is one of's precious bargains." had nothing at all to do with selling him the horse, further than having him shown out when desired to do so, and then receiving his money; the truth is, the customer was an ass, and suffers in character

from it.

Now I daily see persons who I really believe do know what they want, as respects horses; for, judging by the complacency and perfect air of satisfaction they exhibit, when riding or driving their animal, it is but natural to conclude they have got what they want, consequently now know what they wanted. They may very fairly say "You see, I am one of those who do know what they want: I wanted just such a horse as this, and have, as you see, got him." The answer any judge would long to make would be-"You have, and a most precious beast you have got."

I have two persons now in my eye, both of whom I conclude have somehow or other got what they wanted. Should they want another, I should recommend them to show the one they have got as a pattern of their somewhat singular wishes. They can take their cherished animal to a dealer: they will not be reduced to the very ambiguous assertion of "I want a horse." They have only to show the specimen of their taste, and put the definite question-" Pray, Mr. Tasty, have you a horse like this for sale?" "No, sir, really I have notthank God," inwardly adds Tasty. "I am not surprised at that," replies the customer, somewhat triumphantly; "I was a long time in finding this," patting him on the neck as he says it. "I should think you was," gravely replies Tasty, whose estimation of the animal by his looks is in no way heightened on seeing his action as he leaves the yard.

I must, however, give a short sketch of the two persons I have alluded to, and their horses, as they pass my window twice a day. The one is a tall, gentlemanly-looking man, with a seat that would be at once shown by a person sitting on a high gate without a place he

could lodge or rest his feet upon. I conclude this is meant to be military. The brown beast he rides is of ordinary size, neither blood-like, cob-like, hunter or racer-like, or, in fact, like anything but itself. His head is not altogether so outrageously bad, but it is set on like that of a hammer, and is one of those that convince you there can be no energy in the body to which it belongs. The legs are very well put on, if they belonged to a deal table; and they progress as do the arms of a pair of compasses, when we make the latter, as it were, walk. The brute appears to have fair loins, this arising from his being so narrow across the hips that no hip-bone is shown; so all looks smooth and level. Independently of which, he is in point of flesh in tip-top condition. He sports a splendid crimson foreheadband, perhaps in imitation of royalty; and a kind of military curbbit, with which we cannot suppose he could be taken alive, even were he in the Crimea. It is really delightful to see such perfect satisfaction as horse and man exhibit in their journey through life, or at all events towards Fulham.

The other sports a moustache, one of the half-shooting, half-walking jackets, usually all winter a pair of the Life Guardsman's japanned boots, hunting spurs, and at all seasons an immense hunting crop, with a keeper as long and as a large as a saddle-flap. His nag shows a good deal of breeding, weedy legs, and still more weedy body. I always see him in what I suppose he considers a hunting gallop, which may account for every bit of muscle being hunted from the body of the nag. The master occasionally pretends to stand in his stirrups, showing no doubt, as he conceives, how our Derby jockeys perform the preliminary canter. He looks at his horse's action first down the near, then off-side; and as the animal sprawls something like a tired dromedary, no doubt the owner figures to himself the advantage of stride. He has, I make no doubt, at present got what he wants; but, unless he alters his pace, I suspect the shadow of it will only shortly remain.

Has neither of these persons any one to tell him better? Doubtless there are many who could do so; but it would be really sheer cruelty to put the first out of humour with his nag; and, as to the other, I should not conceive any one could do so. There is no reason to suppose the first is not a man of sense, and, save and except in riding horses and saddlery, a man of taste. The latter, should he wish to show his horse as a pattern by which to get another, of course he can do so; but should he ever want to get a sensible man as an acquaintance, let us hope he will show something as unlike himself as two beings of the same race can possibly be: for he is one of those who does not know what he wants, nor will, unless some kind vision in his dreams should whisper " Brains !”

RATA PLAN,

WINNER OF THE ASCOT VASE, OF TWENTY-ONE ROYAL PLATES, AND OF TWENTY OTHER RACES.

ENGRAVED BY E. HACKER, from a PAINTING BY HARRY HALL.

BY CASTOR.

Rataplan, bred by Captain Thullusson in 1850, was got by the Baron, out of Pocahontas, by Glencoe, her dam Marpessa by Muley-Clare by Marmion-Gohanna.

The Baron, bred in Ireland by Mr. Watt in 1842, was got by Birdcatcher out of Echidna, by Economist. He won the St. Leger in 1845, as well as the Cesarewitch of the same year, and was altogether a firstrate race-horse. His career, however, on the turf was not a long one, and his trial as a stud-horse, at least in this country, equally short. At the sale, following the decease of Mr. Theobald, in 1850, he was knocked down to a French commissioner for 1,010 guineas. His stock, which came out as two-year-olds in 1851, include in the list of winners with us Aitchbone, Benita, Chief Baron Nicholson, and Lady Isabel; the first year of his three-year-olds producing a St. Leger winner in Stockwell, own brother to Rataplan. In France he has also been very successful, and his departure from his country after so brief a trial is looked upon as a national loss. A portrait of the Baron appeared in this magazine for November, 1845, and of his son Stockwell in November, 1852.

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Pocahontas, bred by the late Mr. Forth in 1837, was a strong favourite for the Oaks of her year, but she never fulfilled the promise made for her. In 1842, having been purchased of Mr. Greatrex, Mr. Theobald put her to the stud. Here, again, up to the Baron cross, she showed with but little success- Cambaules and Dolly Varden being amongst the most remarkable of her produce. The latter was one of the plainest mares we ever saw, Indeed Pocahontas is not famous for throwing them very handsome. They are, however, often something better, as witness her three celebrated sons, Stockwell, Rataplan, and King Tom. At Mr. Theobald's sale the mare was knocked down to Captain Thellusson for 260 guineas, and she has since been again sold to Lord Exeter.

Rataplan is a dark chesnut horse with white ticks, standing sixteen hands high. He has a rather plain but very expressive head, with a strong neck, shoulder somewhat inclined to be upright, and immense chest. He has a short strong back, powerful quarters also inclining to be short, and arms, gaskins, knees, hocks, and bone quite equal to carrying sixteen stone over a country. He is, in fact, an immensely powerful horse, with something remarkably "prepossessing in his appearance;" carrying his bushy tail well away from him, and walking along in the most careless indolent manner. He is a terrible slug in his slow paces, and takes altogether a deal of rousing. With only just