Whereat his horse did snort, as he
Had heard a lion roar,

And galloped off with all his might,
As he had done before.

Away went Gilpin, and away
Went Gilpin's hat and wig;
He lost them sooner than at first,
For why? - they were too big.

Now Mistress Gilpin, when she saw
Her husband posting down

Into the country far away,

She pulled out half-a-crown;

And thus unto the youth she said,
That drove them to the Bell,
"This shall be yours, when you bring back
My husband safe and well."

The youth did ride, and soon did meet

John coming back amain;

Whom in a trice he tried to stop,

By catching at his rein;

But not performing what he meant.

And gladly would have done,

The frightened steed he frightened more, And made him faster run.

Away went Gilpin, and away
Went postboy at his heels -

The postboy's horse right glad to miss
The lumbering of the wheels.

Six gentlemen upon the road
Thus seeing Gilpin fly,

With postboy scampering in the rear
They raised the hue and cry:—

"Stop thief!-stop thief! - a highwayman!" Not one of them was mute;

And all and each that passed that way

Did join in the pursuit.

And now the turnpike gates again

Flew open in short space:
The toll man thinking as before

That Gilpin rode a race.

And so he did, and won it too!

For he got first to town;

Nor stopped, till where he had got up

He did again get down.

-Now let us sing, Long live the King,

And Gilpin, long live he;

And when he next doth ride abroad

May I be there to see!

William Cowper.

JOHN SELWYN'S STRANGE FEAT

JOHN SELWYN, keeper of the park at Oaklands

in Surrey, was a man of expedients. He also had ambitions, and, like many another man in the spacious times of Queen Elizabeth, he had dreams of royal preferment and of a life of influence and ease at court. He was not only a good horseman and a famous rider, but he had the care of the queen's hunting horses; and when she came down to the park to ride in the chase, it was his duty to see that there was plenty of game waiting conveniently in the nearby

groves and ready to be slaughtered for the royal pleasure.

Think of Queen Elizabeth as a graceful and accomplished horseback rider! She believed that she was unexcelled in this accomplishment; and no man nor woman in England dared hint to the contrary. And as for the chase - why, there was not a more daring and accomplished huntress in the world than she.

One autumn, when the air was crisp and bracing and the leaves were turning brown, arrangements were made for a royal stag hunt at Oaklands. Queen Elizabeth was to be the Diana of the day, and John Selwyn was to be her "chief in attendance" that is, he was to be the director of the sport. It was realized from the start that the queen must greatly distinguish herself, and Selwyn had made his plans accordingly.

With a great flourish of horns and an appropriate following of hounds and horsemen, the hunting party cantered gayly out into the forest. The queen, as the heroine of the day, rode in front with only a few attendants, while Selwyn in gorgeous attire kept close beside her, reconnoitering the ground and directing the way.

"See you that grove on the slope of yon hill?" he remarked. "It is a favorite resort of wild deer, and, if I mistake not, we shall discover there a mighty stag the like of which has not been seen in England since the days of the Conqueror."

"Lead on then, my brave lord keeper," commanded the queen.

Suddenly as they approached the grove the great stag bounded out as though desirous of showing the queen his mettle. Elizabeth laid whip to her horse; with a whoop and a halloo the chase began. A few of the slowest dogs were loosed not to annoy the stag, but to give tone to the chase and enliven the forest with their melodious bayings.

The queen's horse was not overswift; and as the stag emerged into a wide open tract where no trees grew and the ground was boggy, it became clear that she would soon be left far behind.

"My lord keeper," she cried, "I fear that the hounds will be outsped by that swift beast. It would be a shame to let so noble an animal escape."

"Indeed, your Majesty, it shall not escape," answered Selwyn. "Tarry you here, and I engage that the finest stag in Christendom will soon be at your feet."

He put spurs to his horse and galloped after the deer, which was in full sight, fleeing with great leaps and bounds across the plain. The queen and her followers, including the hounds, paused on a little knoll whence they could observe the wonderful performance.

Selwyn's steed was already famous for its swiftness. With incredible speed he pursued the stag, overtaking and turning it back just as it was about to