The Race for the Eclipse Stakes at Sandown was productive of
tremendous excitement, and everybody turned pale as the two gallant
horses came up the straight, locked together, but the key to
the situation--Parliamentary phrase, due to the prevalence of
Elections--was held by the champion _Orme_, who managed to get home,
"all out" by a neck!--at least, Lord ARTHUR said he was "_all out_,"
though how he could be "_home_" at the same time I don't quite
understand--but he may have been alluding to the backers of _Orvieto_.
I was told that _St. Damien_ "made up a lot of ground at the finish;"
but I can't say I noticed it myself, as the course looked to me
exactly as it did before the race! Dear me! how pleased my friends
the Duke and Duchess of WESTMINSTER did look! and with good reason,
too--it was a wonderful task for _Orme_ to accomplish, with only six
weeks' training!--it must have been a _special_ train all the time;
in fact, the one he was brought to Sandown in, I suppose.

Being unable to go to Leicester, I took advantage of a military
escort, offered me by--(no--let the gallant officer's name remain a
secret--he little thought he was escorting a Press-lady)--to pay a
visit to the New Wimbledon--and being nothing if not loyal, I chose
the day when the shooting for the "Queen's" commenced. My escort
informed me with an inane smile, that the Camp had experienced "Bisley
weather;" the feebleness of which joke so annoyed me, that I am half
inclined to put his name in the pillory of public print--(what a
glorious expression for our own Midlothian Mouther)--but I refrain,
for reasons connected with Lord ARTHUR.

I must say that I think Bisley has a more business-like look than
Wimbledon ever had, though perhaps this is scarcely to the taste of
the average feminine visitor, who used to enjoy pic-nicing to the