The doings recorded in that number of the
Standard were mainly those of three classes
of men—soldiers, clergymen, and jockeys. It
is one of the specialties of the B., G., and W.
Standard to be a sporting paper; Gairingham
races being known to sporting men in every
part of Europe. There is a separate column
of sporting advertisements, which I left just
now out of account, headed by the announcement
of Mr. Fish that "he is appointed Turf
Reporter to the London Morning Papers, in
the place of Mr. Cuff, who, after a long and
honourable career, retires into private life."
He is, therefore, open to receive parcels and
letters at a certain coffeehouse. I discovered,
also, among those advertisements the existence
of a little Austria in England, for what
else is the establishment of Messrs. Hawky
and Pinnam, whose "information is eagerly
sought by all the largest speculators on the
Turf, who are backed by distinguished noblemen
and gentlemen," and who boast of "an
establishment so complete and efficient, and
at the same time so gigantic, that there is not
a training stable of any importance in which
they have not a vigilant though secret
correspondent." After puzzling for a short time,
in the denseness of my ignorance, over the
reason why certain horses are "scratched"
for plates, and whether they are made more
lively by scratching, I gave up the attempt
to comprehend the Turf details, and turned to
manly sports in general. The chief article
among them was a grand match at a local
game called "knur and spell." Perfectly
ignorant of the locality, I did not know the
game, nor could I gather from a long report,
entitled by a second heading, I am sorry to
say, "Disgraceful and Uproarious Proceedings,"
what it might be. It appears by this
account, that fifty men with stout sticks
"shouted in a most alarming manner, until
their voices became hoarse and their faces
red," and that they beat the shins of the front
row of spectators. That "the Begby favourite
was enveloped in a huge horse-cloth." That
Mannikin "gave the first rise, and scored
eleven. The Begby favourite approached
his own spell; and, having been disrobed of
the horsecloth, he gave his first rise and
registered eleven." That there were great cheers
from his backers and longer odds offered in
his favour; that "he was wrapped up more
carefully and paced up and down with an air
of dignity;" that when Mannikin was making
his second rise, a large piece of turf was
thrown at him from some person behind,
which had the effect of disconcerting his
stroke. That there was a row, and then
presently another row, and then there was a
tall, facetious gentleman who prided himself
in smoking a cigar, upon the Begby side, who
knocked the hat of a littleman of the Mannikin
party, over the mannikin's eyes, which
ended in a general fight. That this was also
got over, but that presently there ensued a
series of fights, and clothes were much torn
and disfigured. That there were some
gaming tables, including thimbles, cards, dice,
& "E. O.;" and eventually, that "after the
absconding of the referee, who we are informed
held bets to a considerable amount, the
crowds left the ground at about six o'clock."
I also left the ground, having seen quite
enough of manly sport, and turned to the
military columns, over which the Brocksop,
Garringham, and Washby Standard rustled.

If it is borne in mind that the Standard
was a newspaper and not a flag, I shall be
allowed to say that it did not only rustle but
chuckle over the soldiers. I found in that
copy of the paper forwarded to me by the
Postmaster-General, no leading article and
no pert London letter; column after column
was filled by the great Garringham event—
THE CAVALRY WEEK. What an article it
was (in many parts Miltonic) on the mustering
of the First South Blankshire Yeomanry
Cavalry, in Garringham, for the allotted
period of training! What a grand occasion
it afforded to a newspaper anxious to show
that it was equal to the vast demand upon
its talent, and determined to deserve a vast
demand for copies! Let all honour be paid
by the local newspaper to "a band of yeomanry
which," as it eloquently remarked, "so far
from being meretricious or evanescent, may be
fairly deemed the characteristic of Englishmen
—of that feeling which brightens the
patriotic flame, and is enabled to meet whatever
danger may spring up, although not
apparent through the mist and obscurity of
the future, yet, far from being impossible, or
merely imaginary; because, the destinies of
a neighbouring nation, are, for the present,
as has been forcibly said, enveloped in the
mystery of a single mind and circumscribed
by the force of a single will. While the
British Government," &c. Talking of things
forcibly said, what could you find more
forcible and beautiful in any of our best prose
writers than this encomium on the Cavalry
Week: "It is calculated to awaken those
feelings of hearty recognition which are truly
estimable—as worthy of encouragement, as
they are pleasant in the exemplification; and
while much good is diffused around, in other
respects, an impression is left that is grateful
to the remembrance, cherished with interest,
and worthy of universal example and acceptation.
Under these circumstances, the sternness
of military discipline faces no element
with which there is any difficulty, meets with
no antagonism to increase its vigour, and finds
no obstacles laid in the path of public duty.
On the other hand"—&c. The people of
Brocksop, Garringham, and Washby get, it is
evident, powerful writing in their newspaper.
Such eloquence as this is scarcely natural to
man, and it occurred to me that the author
of the history of the Cavalry Week had
prepared himself for his work by a long course
of the Great Lincolnshire Medicine, Wind
Pills.