ENGLISH EXTRACTS.

New Zealand Colonist and Port Nicholson Advertiser, Volume I, Issue 87, 30 May 1843, Page 3

ENGLISH EXTRACTS.

Washingtom in Tops. —The time which General Washington could spare from his other avocations, between the years 1759 and 1774, was considerably devoted to the chase. His kennel was situate about one hundred yards south of the family vault in wh>ch now repose his venerated remain"'. The building was a rude structure, but affording comfortable quarters for the hounds, with a large enclosure paled in, having in the midst of it a spring of running water. The pack was very numerous and select —the colonel visiting and inspecting his kennel morning and evening, after the same manner as he did his stables. It was his pride, and as a proof of his skill in hunting, to have his pack so critically drafted as to speed and bottom, that if running, if one leading dog should lose the scent, another was at hand immediately to recover it; and thus, When in full ery, to use a sporting phrase, you might cover the pack with a blanket. During the season, Mount Yernon (the general’s residence) had many sporting guests from the neighbourhood, from Maryland, and elsewhere. Their visits were not of days but-weeks, and they were entertained in the good old style of Virginia’s ancient hospitality. Washington, always superbly mounted, in true sporting costume of blue coat, scarlet waistcoat, leather breeches* top-boots, velvet cap, and whip with long thong—took the field at day-dawn with his huntsman, Will Lee, his friends, and neighbours; and none rode more gallantly the chase, nor with voice more cheerly awakened echo in the woodland, than he who was afterwards destined, by voice and example, to cheer his countrymen in their glorious struggle for independence and empire. Such was the hunting-establishment at Mount Vernon prior to the revolution ! The custom was to hunt three times a week, weather permitting, Breakfast was served on these mornings by candle-light, the general always breaking his fast with an Indian-corn cake and a bowl of milk; and “ere the cock had done salutation to the morn,” the whole cavalcade would often have left the house, and the fox frequently unkennelled before sunrise. Those who have seen Washington on horseback, will admit that he was the most accomplished of cavaliers, in the true sense and perfection of the character ; he rode, as he did everything, with ease, elegance* and with power. The vicious propensities of horses were of no moment to -this skilful ahd : daring rider. He always said that he required but one good quality in a horse-—“ to go along ;” and ridiculed the idea of its being even possible that he should be unhorsed* provided the animal kept on his legs. Indeed, the perfect and sinewy frame of this admirable man,, gave him such a surpassing grip with his knees, that a horse might as soon disencumber itself of the saddle as of such a rider. 1 The general usually rod'e in the chase a horse called Blue skin* of a; dark iron-grey colour, approaching to blue. This was a fine but fiery ,animal, and of great endurance, in a long run. Wjll, .the huntsman, better known in revolu-

fionary lore as “ Billy,” rode a liorse- calleif Chinkling, a surprising leaper, and made very much like his rider —4ow but sturdy, and or great bone and muscle. A Public Character. —The exact number of qualities that go to the composition of “ greatness” has never yet been defined. If a great person—a great purse—a great rank—or great veracity, are the component parts of a “ great man,” then Barney O’Leary, “ the king of the Linkmen,” has no pretension to the distinction—though confessedly the greatest man in his line that ever successfully helped to enlighten nobility. No less a personage than the aforesaid James Barney O’Leary, of Blarney lane, Cork, among his Dublin cronies, Paddy Carey with the pensive public, and “ confidential linkman to her Majesty and the rest of the nobility,” according to himself, made his appearance in this court as a suitor to justice; embodied in the persons of six portly commissioners. At the very head of his honorable profession for many years, Mister Linkman O’Leary has lately been presented with a silver badge by a number of noble male and female admirers, who would unquestionably have made many a faux pas at the opera and rout on a dark night (on their way to their carriages); had it not been for the seasonable' admonition afforded by the judicious exhibition of O’Leary’s link. It is quite refreshing to notice the grateful gusto with which the “ King of the Linkmen” refers to the three “ princely dukes—the Duke of Northumberland, the Duke of Beaufort, and Ireland’s only duke, the Duke of Leinster; besides noble barrownig-hts and lords and ladies without end” who enrolled fhemselves as subscribers to the tl grand silver opera badge.” But, as all human institutions are perishable, gaslight and the police bid fair to put si speedy end to the race of “ nocturnal illuminators” — a class of individuals called into existence by the former exigencies of fashionable life; and bn the shaggy head of the last of the linkmen* the ample crop of “ burying-ground daisies” are a prophetic indication that the glories of the craft are soon to he eclipsed. The business which called Misther O’Leary into court was, as he said, to bring one “ Jack Daly, his lodger, to rason, for having stuck it into him 12s. deep for back rint.”—Chairman; What proof have you to show of the debt ?—“ By the hole of me coat, he aint blaggard enough to deny it to me face,” said O’Leary. “ It’s a twelvemonth standing, hekase T always tuk things asy wid him.”—Chairman : Why have you let it go so long ?—O’Leary : It’s me way, yer banner j I lets it run on in winter whin work’s slack, and makes him wipe aff in summer. —Commissioner: Do you keep a rent book ? —O’Leary; Bad luck to me if I Ho. I trusted to Jack Daly’s hanner, hekase he’s a countryman of mine, and so I let him have the book. He can’t say I havn’t been a kind friend to him regarding the ladging; —Why, I suppose, if he had your room; you had his money ?—He had the room for a shilling a wake, and anny one else would have axd him fifteen pence; so he owes me threepence a wake, in friendship, anny how*- —In answer to the claim, Jack Daly handed in his rent-book, which appeared to have been punctually paid up each week.—Chairman ; You see this book is properly signed, Mr. O’Leary. Is it your writing ?—O’Leary took the well -thumbed book, and, turning it upside down, shook his head mysteriously. “ I’m not able to rade me own writing widout a toothful of the crater —me hand shakes so. I aint so good wid me pen as I was; but even now, T’d libe to see the boy to bate me in spelling.—Commissioner : Is this some of your spelling—Last week, “ Resav’d on account ?” —O’Leary : Look at that, yer hanners. Resaved on account, that will prove he owes me the money, and did’nt pay in full. —Commissioner : But the week before that you sigm the book, “ Paden ful ?” —Daly : I hope I’ll get justice, yer hanner. He wants to impose on a poor man.—O’Leary: Och Jack, is this the return I’ll get for standing your friend wid the King of Prussia ? —Commissioner: What do you mean ?■—O’Leary: You see, his Majesty, whin he was over here gave 50/. to the workmen at the House of Commons, for a supper. Jack Daly was bricklayer’s futman, and has got the loan of me best coat, which made him look as grand as a furrin count, at the laste, but all he brought me home was two tails, and a bit of the collar—he got as drunk as a piper at the supper, and had a shindy wid some of the boys.—Commissioner : You hear the defendant deny the debt ? You must bring some proof of it, otherwise you will be nonsuited. —O’Leary: So that’s what*l get for being such a kind frihd. The blaggard calls me into his room the other day, and knocks me down twice. Think, yer hanners, of the disgrace to an ould man like me going about me business among the noble ladies and gintlemen wid a black eye at melatter end.—-Commissioner: We dismiss the case, without prejudice.— “ Glory to your elbow for that same,” said O’Leary, leaving the court, and, turning to the defendant, “ But for you, Jack Daly, I’ll be one wid ye. You carry too many guns for me this time; but winter’s coming, and you’ll be wanting to roast your shins at the fire while the mistress is on the Broadway selling fruit. Take notice, don’t ax me for market money.” —With this hidden threat, the “ King of the Linkmen” limped out "of court.