Punch (71.1876)

238 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [December 2, 1876.

OUR NEW SPORTING NOVEL.

Preface.

[The following Correspondence, having reference to the production of
a new Sporting Novel in this Journal, is now placed before our
Headers, in the hope that they will kindly give it their earliest
attention, and accept it as a sufficient Preface to the projected
Work.)

HAYING had the great
pleasure of meeting you at a
friend's house, where the con-
versation after dinner turned
on .Fox-hunting and kindred
matters, I was struck by a re-
mark of yours to the effect
that "you" thought the Pro-
prietors of Bell's Life had
never made such a step in
the right direction as when
they engaged Captain Hawley Smart," Author of Two Kisses,
in three volumes—"Very short allowance, by the way," as 1
observed to you, Sir, at the time—" to contribute a serial Sporting
Novel to their paper."

Yot} may remember, among the other capital thinsrs I uttered on
that occasion, how I said that Bell's Life wanted a, fillip, and it had
got an Alexander. By which I meant—but perhaps this is unne-
cessary to explain to you, Sir, who, I am bound to say, though you
smiled, did not seem to understand the epigram ; for an epigram it
was, if ever there was one on this earth. However, passons,—et d
nos moutons. {French, you '11 observe, Sir.) You then went on to
declare that you would give a great deal if you could only get a
Sporting Novel in the pages of P—ch. I turned that over in my
mind. The hour was come and the man ; or, to put it more sport-
ingly, the man who could tell you " what time of day it was," was
before you at that moment, or rather, to be literal and correct, at
your side. You eould not have told, from my calm manner of
cracking walnuts, what was within my shell at that moment. The
laughter rang on, and the shouts went up, and the wine went round,
but I was silent. To paraphrase the well-known song, " And the
Cracking of my own Nut ivas the only Sound L heard."

When I got home, Sir, I dashed at it. It was in me ; out it
must come. Yes, there was a Sporting Novel in me somewhere, and so
you may look for it shortly. A good candle needs no bushel; and
before many hours are past the first chapters shall be in your intel-
ligent hands. I believe you, Sir, are ready to admit your ignorance
of sporting matters entirely. Now, though I say it who perhaps
should not, yet if I don't, who will ? except perhaps my good friend,
Captain Hawley Smart, whose generous nature (there is real Free-
masonry among all true sportsmen) would be only too delighted to
welcome an honest rival in the field where he has already won his
spurs—his " Latchfords," as we of the craft style'em—but, as I
was saying of myself, there is not in England a man who knows
more about Sporting than myself ; and but that there cannot be two
Richmonds in the field—I should say Pell's Life, not Field—at the
same time, I would long ago have complied with your request,
which was to the effect that I should " throw my leg over that spicy
tit Pegasus, pluck a quill out of his wings, crack my caduceus

little more than a muddy ditch, and wanted " clearing " as much as
my bagful of scents and cigars does, when I am de retour from
the Continong), " at a single bound." *

Where my dear friend and fellow-sporting novelist, Hawley,
would have been when once J had taken up the running, it is not
for my modesty to say. He might have just caught sight of the
silver thread in Pegasus' tail, as we popped over the double Bullfinch,
flew the post and rails (including the sleepers), and disappeared
from view. " D'ye ken John Piel ? " W-w-whoop ! and away !
" For the sound of the horn," &c. That's the poetry for my money,
and this will be the sporting novel for yours. Isn't the hunting
season commencing, and am I not up to time ? Let my fellow-
sporting novelist look to his laurels ! And, by the way, when I had
a cottage in the country, we found a Fox in the Laurels. And
now, Sir, Tallyho ! and I can't say fairer than that,—except that, if
you choose to repudiate, I shall send this invaluable work of mine
to Reynard's Miscellany. But you won't, I know you won't. Only
please do not attempt to edit me—I mean unless you are thoroughly
up in sporting phrases and sporting life generally—it would be,
on your part, a thankless and. hopeless task. " Trust me" as
Mr. MiLLAis'picture said. I know all about it. Nunquam dormio !
omnis oculus mens ! And let our cry be " Fox " et praterea Nil!

Yours to hounds,

Jawley Sharp
{Late of the Lndi Spensibles).

P.S.—Ours was a crack corps, and the best whist-players in the
Service. By Jove, Sir, we've seen life ! But not a word against
our moral character ! We lived amongst the Ayahs, the Nautches,
and the Bayaderes,—" Bayards parmi les Bayaderes, sans peur et
sans reproche."

P.S. No. 2.—Mind, you 're to come and stay at my old ancestral
place during the hunting season. Come for as long as you like. I can
mount you in first-rate style. Got just the thing for you ; the quietest
horse you ever saw. House full, first-rate shooting and hunting.
Liquor A 1. Cigar tap always on. Open house ; delighted. Name
your day, and stay three months after date.t

P.S. No. 3.—By the way, please announce my Novel in yoixr next
issue thus :—

A HATFUL OF MONEY!

a tale of the great two thousand.

By JAWLEY SHAEP,

Author of "Squeezing Langford," " Three Kicks," &c, d-c.

* Note by the Editor.—Several times during the perusal of this communi-
cation have we been on the point of laying it down, and deliberating as to
whether we should consider ourselves bound by any casual statement made,
over nu>s, after dinner, at a friend's house. " And Brutus is an honourable
man; so are we all, all honourable men"—and indeed, were it not for this
firm conviction, on our part, of our intending Contributor's integrity and good
faith—txcellent. qualities, even when brought into play under a mistaken sense
of duty —we should not be inclined to pioceed any further with a gentleman
who suggests (to say the least of it) that ice formulated a request to the effect
that he would " throw his leg over that spicy tit, Pegasus"—good heavens !
—and that "he should crack his caduceus." ~Now ive do know what a caduceus is,
and it is most improbable (of course not absolutely impossible, if in mere play-
fulness, just to moisten the nuts,—though of this we protest, warmly protest,
we have no recollection whatever) that we, in our senses, should have ever
asked Major Jawley Sharp to commit any such absurdity as is implied in
the operation of "cracking a caduceus." On the other hand, we must be
honest, and admit that, as we were engaged on walnuts at the moment, some-
thing about "cracking" might have escaped our lips, and subsequently our
memory. "We have, ere now, cracked both jokes and walnuts at a sitting, and
remember neither the one, nor the other, in detail. But we are nothing if
not classical; and that we ever, on any occasion, mixed up a caduceus with a
hunting-whip is what we are unwilling for one minute to allow. There was
probably an interval between the two conversations, and, perhaps, our
esteemed Son of Mars and Votary of Diana—a description of the sportsman-
warrior which is at once classical and correct, and, therefore, in our own scholarly
style—carried the spoils of our conversation with him, so to speak, to his tent,
and there, afterwards, tried to fit the pieces together, and produce something
like the original. Again, having brought in Pegasus and the caduceus, we
should never have mentioned " the Rubicon " in the same breath. Beluct-
antly constrained to pause and say this much in our own defence, as against the
worthy Major's reminiscences, we resume our perusal of his letter in a conci-
liatory spirit, and shall be pleased, if we see our way to it, to give the gallant
sportsman a place in our columns.—Ed.

f Editor to Major Jawley Sharp, in answer to Postscript No. 2.—Shall
be delighted. It will be ourselves down to the ground—wo mean on horse-
back. When shall it be ? We do not care how soon, or for how long. If
press of business compels us to come up to Town once or twice during our
visit, it need be for only a very few hours, and back again in plenty of time
for dinner. Nous y sommes. Of course your Novel will be all right. It
shall appear at once, and the very best place shall be given to it. Splendid
notion of yours ! We, speaking editorially, are most delighted to think that
a mere classical allusion of ours, thrown out at haphazard over nuts at a
friend's dinner-party should have led to such a happy result. What a night
we had of it, eh? Send us a list of your trains, and mind there's a trap,

ive him his head, and clear the Eubicon " (which was precious and a quiet horse, with a man to drive, to meet us at the station. Fire in the