office should ever have oozed out if Boiardo had been Acrobat's master last year, and surely the trial of Dervish before the Derby must have been a sheeted one, or else it is akin to a miracle that a horse who had so thoroughly impressed his jockey with the belief that he was a currish two-year-old, should have shed his nature so completely on that occasion. That Boiardo won the last trial there is no doubt, and that being so, the whole thing would seem to resolve itself into an error on the part of Lord Derby, in not declaring to win with him. Knowing, too, how ill-suited the hard ground was to Boiardo's bandaged legs, it is an equal pity that he did not hire some horse who could make the running to a further point than Dervish was able to do, and keep Acrobat on the waiting system, in case Boiardo failed or broke down in his effort to get up. The only way to lay such serious accusations as were made, and to put the rioters to shame, was to take them up spiritedly; and it is well for the interests of the turf that Lord Derby and John Scott acted as they did. Ivan and Acrobat are under the same stable roof now, and their exciting rivalry is at an end. And here too end our turf labours for this memorable "Acrobat year." ERNEST ATHERLEY; OR, SCENES AT HOME AND ABROAD. BY LORD WILLIAM LENNOX. CHAPTER XXVIII. Extracts from my Journal in Canada continued-Winter Sledging-Private Theatricals. No sooner had the winter set in, than we had some excellent snipe shooting; and did I not fear to lay myself open to a comment upon the Munchausen propensities of travellers, I would mention the result of a week's sport. It was, without drawing a long bow, beyond any I had ever heard of in Europe. Early in October the St. Laurence was completely frozen over, and sledging commenced. We established a driving club, called the Q.D.C., meaning Quebec Driving Club, though the wags interpreted it "Quam Deus conservat." We met once a week in the square opposite the Château, and having appointed a president and vice-president for the day, started in procession, the former leading, the latter bringing up the rear. After parading the principal streets, we proceeded some few miles into the country, where we enjoyed a picnic luncheon-nay, sometimes a dinner and a ball, returning by torchlight. In Canada, the ladies of the creation think nothing of taking a seat in the sledge of a bachelor, although to drive with him on wheels during the summer would be deemed an outrage on the usages of society. This club gave rise to a great many squibs and caricatures. I remember the beginning of a long epic poem, which, as a specimen of NorthAmerican versification, I lay before my readers: THE Q.D.C. (Queer Devil Club). "Hark! I hear the sound of coaches! On every side the noise approaches ! I carioles for coaches take." the poet, for versification, having rendered "carriole"-the Canadian name for a sledge-cartole. Winter, in Quebec, is the season of general amusement. The clear frosty weather no sooner commences, than all thoughts about business are laid aside, and every one devotes himself to pleasure. By means of their carrioles, the Canadians transport themselves over the snow from place to place, in the most agreeable manner, and with a degree of swiftness that appears almost incredible; for with the same horse I have gone sixty miles a day with perfect ease, so light is the draught of one of these carriages, and so favourable is the snow to the feet of the horse. The carriole is calculated to hold two persons and a driver; it is usually drawn by one horse if two are made use of, they are put tandem fashion, as the track will not admit of their going abreast. The shape of the carriage is varied according to fancy, and it was a matter of emulation among the members of our driving club who should have the handsomest one. There are two distinct kinds, however-the open and the covered. The former is commonly like the body of a light cabriolet or dennet, put upon two iron runners or slides, similar in shape to a pair of skates; the latter consists of the body of a chariot or coach, put on runners in the same manner, and both are entirely lined with furs. The carrioles glide over the snow with great smoothness, and so little noise do they make in sliding along, that it is necessary to have a number of bells attached to the harness. I know no way of winding up this slight sketch of sledging, than by giving Sam Slick's opinion upon the subject: "A little tidy scrumptious lookin' slag, a real clipper of a horse, a string of bells as long as a string of inions round his neck, and a sprig on his back, lookin' for all the world like a bunch of apples broke off at gatherin' time, and a sweetheart alongside, all muffled up but her eyes and her lips-the one lookin' right into you, and the other talkin' right at you-is e'en almost enough to drive one ravin', tarin', distracted mad with pleasure-ain't it? and then the dear critters say, the bells make such a din, there's no hearin' oneself speak; so they put their pretty little mugs close up to your face, and talk, talk, talk, till one can't help lookin' right at them instead of the horse; and then whop you both go, capsized into a snow-drift together-skins, cushions, and all. This is fun alive!" To the clockmaker's sentiments, I say ditto. Amateur theatricals were shortly established, and I was chosen manager. A company of players had been "fretting their hour " upon the stage during the summer, and having been compelled to shut up the house, we engaged the female part for the winter. The theatre was newly embellished, under the superintendence of a young officer of the Royal Engineers, who has since arrived at great eminence in his profession, having erected the model prison at Pentonville, and is now holding the highest situation connected with that department. A new drop-curtain was painted; the gallery was converted into private boxes, the centre one of which was taken by the Governor-General; the lower circle continued as dress-boxes, and the pit was opened on the principle of the Opera House; the prices, to every part of the house, being five shillings. The surplus, after the incidental expenses, was to go to different charities; and, I am happy to say, our speculation so far succeeded, that we were enabled to hand over a large balance at the end of the season. No sooner had we made arrangements for our opening night, than we advertised for an address. Many effusions were sent in, and no little amusement was created over the "rejected" ones. At last a selection was made, and the lines adopted were given to a gallant colonel, now a general officer (may he live to be a Field-Marshal), to recite. Everything being in train, "The Honeymoon" and "Raising the Wind were announced; the parts were cast, much to the satisfaction of some and annoyance of others, for, on a first representation, I could only take the words of the actors as to their capabilities. A rehearsal was called ; as usual, nobody attended punctually; nobody remembered the sides at which they were to go on the stage, and nobody observed the directions of the prompter. I reminded my company of Sheridan's remark, who, on being asked whom he liked best at an amateur play, replied "The prompter, for I heard more and saw less of him than any other." The night arrived, the theatre was crowded in every part, the overture was played, the National Anthem was sung, and the colonel advanced to the lights, and, after receiving a most flattering greeting (for in private and public life this officer was truly popular), began, and after delivering himself of some half-dozen lines, upon the subject of the stage from the days of Shakspeare, was proceeding to the more immediate point of the address and appeal in behalf of the amateurs" Hold, I forgot,"-when true enough he did forget, for not one syllable more could he utter. In vain he looked in his hat for a copy of the address; in vain he turned to the prompter, who had been called away on some business; in vain he tried to recover his memory. Fortunately the author was at the wing, who immediately gave the word; the speaker took it up, and went through the rest admirably. I pass over this performance, which went extremely well; but finding that all wanted to be "kings, and none Laertes's," and that for the humbler walks there were no candidates, I called two officers into my councils, thus making a theatrical triumvirate. Previous to the second representation, an event occurred which placed us in a very awkward predicament: at the first rehearsal, the lady who was to have played Maria in "The School for Scandal" was absent without leave. Scouts were sent after her in every direction, and at last the awful news was communicated that the artiste had been taken up on a charge (a false one, as it afterwards proved to be) of having stolen a spoon from her landlady. What was to be done? Some thoughtless wag suggested "The Maid and the Magpie," the principal character by the absent lady; another thought that "The Delinquent" and "Lock and Key" would be appropriate that is, if through any influence it could be arranged to get the "Prisoner at large." In the meantime we instructed a legal gentleman to defend the unfortunate absentee, and lost no time in seeking for a substitute. By no possibility could the trial of the innocent creature come on before the night of the performance; and a messenger was about to be despatched in a sledge to Montreal, to procure an actress from the company there, when, at a rehearsal, a bugler of the Rifles stepped from the orchestra upon the stage, and suggested that his wife, who had once performed at Guernsey, was fully competent to the task. The lady was sent for, and shortly made her appearance; and certainly, as far as personal looks and manners went, she seemed likely to prove an addition to the corps. The part was given her, with a request that she would attend the next rehearsal, and that she was at liberty to order herself any dress from the Quebec Maradan. The eventful morning arrived, when the débutante, who was to appear under her maiden-name, Miss Haw kins, was to give the company "a taste of her quality," and, to the annoyance of all, her nervousness was so great, that she could scarcely utter a line. Every encouragement was given her, and as she improved a little, hopes were entertained that in time she would conquer her timidity. The part of Maria was cut to almost nothing, and at the last rehearsal, the lady acquitted herself rather better. The evening arrived, when the sight of the lamps seemed to inspire the heroine, as she walked courageously on, to receive a hearty reception due to her beauty, if not to her talent. We pass over her acting, which, to adopt a newspaper phrase, was almost inaudible in the gallery;" and bring our readers to the last scene, previous to which the writer of this, who acted Charles Surface, called the artiste aside, and said "Don't be frightened; there's one line you must deliver with emphasis, for a point turns upon it: when Sir Peter says to me, What! you rogue, don't you ask the girl's consent first?' and I reply, 'Oh! I have done that a long time-a minute ago—and she has looked Yes,' you must reply For shame, Charles! I protest, Sir Peter, there has not been a word,' come boldly forward; speak well out to the audience; never mind the exact words, but convey the meaning that you never had said a word." 66 The young lady was all attention, and promised implicit obedience, and faithful was she to her word; for no sooner had I delivered the above-quoted line, than, coming forward to the lights, the gentle but now inspired Maria uttered, in a voice that could be heard in the deepest recess in the house, "Oh fie, Charles! I purtest, Sir Peter, I never said No sitch thing." A shout of laughter welcomed this little natural lapsus, and it required all the self-possession of my brother performers and myself to prevent our giving vent to our risible faculties. The play, however, went on smoothly; albeit a slight laugh was raised during the "tag," at the poetical compliments paid by me, as the reformed scrapegrace Charles, to the lovely Maria. I ought here to add that the unfortunate daughter of Thespis was honourably acquitted, and again took her station on the boards. The bugler's wife played one or two characters, where beauty, not speaking, was required. Another event occurred at Quebec, during the performaece of "Raising the Wind," which may be worth recording; and again was I, who acted Jeremy Diddler, the hero of it. The second scene of the second act opens, and discovers the all-accomplished "Diddler," under the disguise of Fairword, at the table of Mr. Plainway, at which are assembled that antiquated piece of virginity, Miss Laurelia Durable, and the "paragon of premature divinity," Peggy. According to the stage directions, Diddler is to sing a verse of The Beautiful Maid "-now addressing himself to the young, then to the old lady. In the acting edition, the following note is given :-"The singing, on account of Mr. Lewis's inaptitude at turning a tune, is omitted in representation." The above being equally applicable to myself, as it was to the late 66 popular comedian, the song was to have been omitted, when an idea occurred to me, which I lost no time in acting up to. Among our corps was a gentleman, who, in addition to great dramatic powers, possessed a most beautiful voice; and, anxious to give every effect to the scene, I prevailed upon him to place himself immediately behind the scene, at the front of which I was sitting, and sing the verse through a slit in the canvass. The scene opened, and Jeremy Diddler, with mouth open and appropriate action, appeared to be singing the stave. There was not a little surprise among my own friends, who were fully aware that singing was not one of my accomplishments; the rest of the public listened with attention, and rewarded me with shouts of applause. Bravo!" shouted one from the 66 boxes. upper Encore, encore !" cried two enthusiastic admirers in the pit. "Encore!" echoed a dozen voices, stamping and beating with their feet and sticks. In vain I attempted to go on with the part. Encore, encore-The Beautiful Maid!" shouted the pit en masse, for the verse had been exquisitely sung. I now tapped at the back scene, and asked in a low tone of voice, whether my double was ready to give the verse again; but unfortunately the real Simon Pure had run off to his dressing room at the upper end of the theatre. I now bethought me, what was to be done? the house were uproarious; nothing but the song would satisfy them. While in this dilemma, I rose from the table, advanced towards the lights, and in a manner in which I attempted to imitate the great Robert William Elliston, that prince of apologists, said, "Ladies and Gentlemen "-" Silence, hear him, song, bravo!"" Ladies and gentlemen, nothing would give me greater pleasure than having it in my power to comply with your flattering wishes; but unfortunately, within the last two minutes I have actually lost my voice, and I could not sing a note if my life depended upon it." 66 Bravo, go on!" shouted the Quebec public. At length silence was obtained, and I again took my place, when, at the very moment, the gentleman with the voice, who had been made aware of the cause of the disturbance, and had not quite caught the words of the apology, thinking an encore even at the eleventh hour was better than none, warbled forth the last verse of the "Beautiful Maid." For a moment I was completely upset; but recovering my self-possession, I opened my lips, put my hand to my heart, appeared to labour in singing, and at the end drew forth such a shout as made the welkin ring. Miss Durable, instead of keeping to the text, and saying "Mr. Diddler, you sing delightfully," congratulated me on the sudden recovery of my voice, which drew down another round of applause, and the remainder of the farce went off admirably. While upon the subject of private theatricals, I must mention a ludicrous event that occurred one night during our amateur performances, which might have caused a considerable sensation in the house, had it not been discovered in time. The tragedy of "Douglas" was got up for the purpose of allowing a young histrionic tyro to figure as the noble shepherd boy; and as we always had great difficulty in getting the inferior parts filled, we were at a sad loss to find any member of the corps willing to take that of one of the retainers of Lord Randolph, who has secured the person of Old Norval. He has but a few lines to utter, but all were unwilling to don the kilt in a Canadian winter, and go on for it. At last it occurred to me that a German serjeant of the Rifles, who spoke English tolerably well, and who had so great a love for thea |