The Sun.
London, England, 1862-05-10 00:00:00

SPORTING--THIS D.Y.

TATTERSALL'S, THIS EVENING. 4

CHESTER CUP.
7to 1 agst Silkstone (taken and offered)
Bto 1 agst Zodiac (offered)
10 to 1 agat Stampede (taken)
10 to 1 agst Fairwater (offered)
10 to 1 agst Vest colt (offered)
100 to 6 agst Wild Rose (taken)
100 to 6 agst Caractacus (taken)
100 to 6 agst Brighton (taken and offered)
20 to 1 agst Simla (taken)
20 to 1 agst Hadji Stavros (taken)
2000 to 30 agat Weasel (taken)
THE DERBY.
9to 2 agst The Marquis (taken)
sto 1 agst Buckstone (offered)
10 to 1 agst Caterer (taken)
12 to 1 agst Stockwell colt- (taken)
100 to 8 agst Ensign (taken and offered)
100 to 6 agat Zetland (taken)

SHOOTING FOR A SILVER CUP.

The last shot came, to decide the fate of the cup,
whether it was to go to Applewood or Melsome.
The bets were in favour of the landlord, for the mil-
ler was choleric and rather flurried. Brotherhood
went first, he being already one ahead; if he got a
blue this time he was the victor. A blue for the
miller, and there would be a tie. The landlord
fired first, kneeling ; a steady hit and long aim ; a
careful, good shot. The red flag of danger suddenly
appeared, and the marker came out to examine the
shot. Much agitation; it must be a white ; no,
hurrah ! it was actually a blue. The miller knelt
—anxious and too quick; he was too sure of him-
self, was the miller. The aim was perfect—full
on the bull's eye. " Good for a liner," called
out private Barnes, who was betting on the mil-
ler ; but he pulled too quickly, the barrel few
up, and lodged the bullet ex-elegy on the very top
ridge of the seam that divided the target. " Ex-
cellent line," cried the backers of the miller—but
the cup—the cup was Brotherhood's. His com-
panions now broke their ranks and crowded to con-
gratulate the victor, who modestly leant his chin on
his rifle-barrel and said he " scarcely expected to do
it ;" but you could see he did expect it, by the con-
tented twinkle of his left eye. The exciseman in
a graceful attitude was relating to his adherents the
exact reasons why he lost the cup; but these did
,not seem to be quite satisfactory ; a comrade say-
ing, " But you pulled too quick." As for the miller,
he was rather in a temper, I fear, for he said no.
thing, looked rather red under the eyes, and kept
wiping away nothing in particular from his rifle lock.
The ceremony of the day now began. " Form hollow
square !" shouted St. Ives, ncdding at Brotherhood,
who looked as uncomfortable as it he were going to
be instantly hanged, and fumbled about at his cart-
ridges, which surely scarcely wanted counting just
then. The hollow square was formed. In the
centre was throned St. Ives with the czp glittering
before him on the table, its top-coat of brown paper
peeled off. Sergeant Brotherhood—that grave,
stolid, honest fellow, now blushing just like a girl—
was called forward. St. Ives, in a short pithy
speech, presented him with the cup, which he
received with stammered thanks. The lesser prizes
were given and the riflemen dispersed to lunch.
Loaves were tumbled out of haversacks, great stone
crocks of beer gurgled out their contents, and the
riflemen formed a ring round jovial St. Ives and the
winner of the silver cup. I left them chanting out
brave old songs, and went homewards.—Dickens's
" All the Year Round."