On the relations of Royalty to sport, _Punch_ had always been extremely sensitive. The bitterest things he ever said of the Prince Consort were directed against his stag-shooting exploits and pheasant battues in the 'forties. Much in the same spirit is the vehement protest which he uttered early in 1878 against the cruelty to an eagle which was trapped at Windsor after Prince Christian and several keepers had vainly tried to shoot it. The wretched eagle, according to _The Times_, tore itself out of the trap, leaving one of its toes behind, and _Punch_ is indignantly sarcastic at this treatment of the royal bird. He was mildly satirical in 1876 when the Balmoral Curling Club was broken up owing to the tendency of the game "to encourage a love for whisky." On the other hand, and unlike other critics, he was always ready to acknowledge when Royalties acted on the maxim _noblesse oblige_. The Princess of Wales's efforts to get pigeon shooting abolished at Hurlingham in 1883 prompted the picture of the Triumph of Sir Pigeon in the Lists with the Princess as Queen of Beauty in the Tournament of Doves. Unluckily _Punch's_ jubilation was premature. Mr. Anderson's Bill, supported by W. E. Forster, and opposed by Sir Walter Barttelot, was "turned down" by the House, to the disgust of _Punch_, who asked why could not the Home Secretary, Sir William Harcourt, follow the example of Holland and forbid pigeon shooting. Still, two minor victories are scored to the credit of the Princess of Wales this year. "She has banished the crinolette, in spite of Paris. She has retained the small bonnet, still in spite of Paris," and _Punch_ chronicles the triumph in pleasantly whimsical rhymes. [Sidenote: _John Brown_] The critic re-emerges in a long and sarcastic account of the public sale by auction of portraits and furniture--down to kitchen chairs--belonging to the Duke and Duchess of Teck, which _Punch_ considered as undignified and improper, though he found the catalogue a feeding-ground for laughter and a stimulant to satire. In the same year the Queen's trusted attendant, John Brown, died. It is hard for the present generation to realize the mixed feelings which the Queen's reliance on this royal factotum excited in the minds of the public at a time when the popularity of the Court was impaired by her long seclusion. His very name is now forgotten, though in the 'seventies and early 'eighties it was on every lip--often as an incentive to slighting or indecorous comment. _Punch's_ tribute is somewhat ponderous in style, but he makes a good point in distinguishing this faithful if somewhat angular Scotsman from the minions and freaks of other Courts:--