in two left boots at Philadelphia; but this must be considered as a pedestrian eccentricity, and cannot be accepted by the rigid chronicler as high art.  The old mower with the scythe and hour-glass has not yet laid his mauley heavily on the Bantam’s frontispiece, but he has had a grip at the Bantam’s top feathers, and in plucking out a handful was very near making him like the great Napoleon Bonaparte (with the exception of the victualling department), when the ancient one found himself too much occupied to carry out the idea, and gave it up.  The Man of Ross (alias old Alick Pope, alias Allourpraises-whyshouldlords, etc.) is a thought and a half too fleshy, and, if he accidentally sat down upon his baby, would do it to the tune of fourteen stone.  This popular codger is of the rubicund and jovial sort, and has long been known as a piscatorial pedestrian on the banks of the Wye.  But Izaak Walton hadn’t pace,—­look at his book and you’ll find it slow,—­and when that article comes in question, the fishing-rod may prove to some of his disciples a rod in pickle.  Howbeit, the Man of Ross is a lively ambler, and has a smart stride of his own.

    THE TRAINING.

“If vigorous attention to diet could have brought both men up to the post in tip-top feather, their condition would have left nothing to be desired.  But both might have had more daily practice in the poetry of motion.  Their breathings were confined to an occasional Baltimore burst under the guidance of The Gasper, and to an amicable toddle between themselves at Washington.

    THE COURSE.

“Six miles and a half, good measure, from the first tree on the Mill Dam Road, lies the little village (with no refreshments in it but five oranges and a bottle of blacking) of Newton Centre.  Here Massachusetts Jemmy and The Gasper had established the turning-point.  The road comprehended every variety of inconvenience to test the mettle of the men, and nearly the whole of it was covered with snow.

    THE START

was effected beautifully.  The men taking their stand in exact line at the starting-post, the first tree aforesaid, received from The Gasper the warning, “Are you ready?” and then the signal, “One, two, three.  Go!” They got away exactly together, and at a spinning speed, waited on by Massachusetts Jemmy and the Gasper.

    THE RACE.

“In the teeth of an intensely cold and bitter wind, before which the snow flew fast and furious across the road from right to left, the Bantam slightly led.  But the Man responded to the challenge, and soon breasted him.  For the first three miles each led by a yard or so alternately; but the walking was very even.  On four miles being called by The Gasper the men were side by side; and then ensued one of the best periods of the race, the same splitting pace being held by both through a heavy snow-wreath and up