it is most essential to have one hand free, and therefore to be able to guide your bicycle with one hand; but acrobatic performances, such as riding without using either hands or feet down inclines in crowded streets, or with both feet on one side, or with your face to the hind wheel, as one man managed to do, are entirely to be discouraged.

How I admired at first the graceful way in which a gentleman, very tall, and well known in royal and social circles, took off his hat and bowed to his acquaintances on the pavement! I even envied the more humble individual whom I saw blowing his nose with reckless violence in Piccadilly; but now it seems to me that to fall would be impossible, even if I tried, and this is really the only frame of mind in which it is safe to bicycle in the streets of London.

TOWARDS the close of the season the P.V.H. were advertised to meet on a particular Saturday morning, at a place called Gurrhi Sirdar, on the Nowshera-Peshawar road. This was not in the best part of our country, but the meet had been arranged to suit the convenience of the Bengal cavalry officers stationed at Nowshera

Early on the morning in question my bearer awoke me, and even as I returned from the land of dreams I noticed that his melancholy tone of voice had a more than usually lugubrious ring

in it.

'Hullo! What's wrong with you this morning, Jubilee?' I said, for to this name had he answered since entering my service. It was not altogether appropriate to his temperament; but I had engaged him in the year 1887, and as he then told me his name was Jubbibalah, it soon got shortened into the more pronounceable Jubilee.

Huddled up in a blanket, he replied to my question in still sadder tones: Ah, Sahib, there was plenty rain kul-rhat (last night), and your servants are cold.'

'Ripping!' I exclaimed, springing out of bed; that should give us a good scent to-day.'

The melancholy one only replied with a sound between a groan

and a shiver, and, feeling that he would not participate in my joy, I hurried outside into my verandah.

Sure enough, there was a sweet, refreshing smell of rain. The Maréchal Niel roses hung heavy with moisture from the roof of the verandah, and the croak of unseen but rejoicing frogs resounded from all sides. Though it had cleared up, the sky was still overcast, and there was every prospect of a cool and pleasant day. With spirits raised as much as Jubilee's had recently been depressed, I hurried up with my toilet, and should have been dressed in an incredibly short time had I not been delayed by a struggle with my boots. These required some coaxing and a liberal application of French chalk before I was well in them, owing to my having recently become acquainted with the depth. of the Shah Alum river. Having at length got them on, I adjourned to C's sitting-room, he and I occupying the same bungalow. I found him up and ready for breakfast, so, after mutual congratulations on the propitious change in the weather, we were soon hard at work on some excellent eggs and bacon.

Breakfast finished, we strolled across to the mess to get our flasks and cigar cases filled. Here we found K --, our hardriding Captain, just mounting his hunter, which he was going to ride on to the meet. Two or three subalterns were inside, still busy with their breakfast, but ready for an immediate start as soon as that was disposed of.

Telling them to hurry up, for I thought Gurrhi Sirdar was a sure find, I filled my flask with a mixture of whisky and

ginger wine, which I had found on previous occasions very comforting after swimming the Shah Alum or its tributaries. I went outside, and found C― just getting into his dogcart.

He and I generally drove to the meets together, and as a rule managed to raise a tandem for the purpose out of our combined stables. On this particular morning our best team had been harnessed, a fast grey polo mare of C's being in the shafts, and a smart little grey of mine doing duty as leader.

Having donned our 'poshtins' (leather coats lined with sheepskins) as covert coats, and wrapped a camel-hair rug around our knees, for the morning was bitterly cold, we told the saises to 'let 'em go,' and were soon spinning away down the mall at a good ten miles an hour. As I held the ribbons this morning, C— took the horn, and gave a rousing blast or two whenever we passed the bungalow of a fellow-sportsman in case anyone should have overslept himself. However, the fresh morning had apparently imbued all alike with special keenness, for we got no response.

On getting clear of the cantonments on to the grand trunk road leading past the huge fort, which was situated on the outskirts of the native city, we quickened our pace, and soon overtook some of the more backward sportsmen as they jogged gaily along to the meet. As we turned the next corner the road, which now lay straight and level before us, was dotted at intervals with riders and one or two dogcarts, and it soon became evident that there would be a big muster, even if the sportsmen from Nowshera did not put in an appearance.

There was a very fair percentage of pink coats, but the majority of the riders were turned out in polo boots, or 'ratcatching' garb. Our fast little tandem quickly forged ahead, so that we arrived at the meet with some ten minutes to spare, and were glad to see a group of chargers from Nowshera, which had been sent on for our cavalry friends.

The hounds were there, too, so let us spend our spare ten minutes in looking them over. What first catches one's eye is the conspicuous figure of the kennel huntsman. This man, quite a character in his way, deserves a short description. He was a Hindu, Kanhai by name, of very low caste, and of a spare but wiry figure. He was dressed in a well-cut pink coat, a huntsman's cap, brown cord breeches, and top boots. But he did not stop there, for he also wore a good pair of dog-skin gloves, and his clean-shaven face was set off by a spotless collar and welltied cravat-the contrast between these and his shiny black face being very remarkable.