prison--and thus ended my last First of September.’ [Illustration: RETURN FROM THE RACES.] Those who wish to know what a Derby Day was fifty years ago may read the following contemporary narrative:-- Here’s a right and true list of all the running horses! Dorling’s correct card for the Derby day!----Hollo, old un! hand us up one here, will you: and let it be a good un: there, now what’s to pay? Only sixpence. Sixpence! I never gave more than a penny at Hookem Snivey in all my days.----May be not, your honour: but Hookem Snivey aint Hepsom: and sixpence is what every gemman, as is a gemman, pays. I can buy ’em for less than that on the course, and I’ll wait till I get there. Beg your honour’s pardon----They sells ’em a shillin’ on the course. Give you threepence. They cost _me_ fippence ha’p’ny farden. Well, here then, take your list back again. Come, come; your honour shall have it at your own price:----I wouldn’t sell it nob’dy else for no sitch money: but I likes the sound of your wice. Here, then, give me the change, will you?--Oh, certainly: but your honour’s honcommon ard:----Let’s see: you want two-and-threepence: wait a moment, there’s another gentleman calling out for a card. Hollo, coachman, stop, stop! Coachman, do you hear? stop your horses this moment, and let me get down:--The fellow’s run away behind an omnibus without giving me change out of my half-crown. That’s alvays the vay they does on these here hoccasions: they calls it catching a flat:--Sorry I can’t stop. Where’s the new police? Pretty police truly, to suffer such work as that! Well, if ever I come to Epsom again! but let’s look at the list: it’s cost me precious dear!--Ascot, Mundig, Pelops! why, good heavens, coachman! they’ve sold me a list for last year! ‘Oh, ma! look there! what a beautiful carriage! scarlet and gold liveries, and horses with long tails.--And stodge-full of gentlemen with mustaches, and cigars and macintoshes, and green veils: Whose is it, ma? Don’t know, my dear; but no doubt belongs to some duke, or marquis, or other great nob.--Beg your pardon, ma’am: but that carriage as you’re looking at is a party of the swell mob. And, oh my! ma: look at that other, full of beautiful ladies, dressed like queens and princesses.--Silks and satins and velvets, and gauze sleeves and ermine tippets: I never saw such elegant dresses: And how merry they look, laughing and smiling! they seem determined to enjoy the sport:--Who are they, ma? Don’t know, dear; but no doubt they’re Court ladies. Yes, ma’am, Cranbourne Court. How do, Smith? nice sort of tit you’ve got there. Very nice indeed: _very_ nice sort of mare.--Beautiful legs she’s got, and nicely-turned ancles, and ’pon my word, a most elegant head of hair.