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Related article: This is my theme to-day — a Whitsuntide trip, a peep into some sweet solitudes that mayhap will beguile for a few minutes some readers of Baily who have not as yet paid court to the land of ancient British worship — of camps, barrows, and tumuli. Aye, and beyond these a land of glorious, far-stretching downs. We talk as sportsmen of the Berkshire Downs, great of fame, but until the last few years scant justice has been done to Berk- shire's southern neighbour, Wilt- shire. Taking Swindon as the northernmost point for an exciu:^ sion into Wiltshire, a departure southwards soon unfolds to us a landscape, of which the village of Wroughton is the background, on the edge of the Vale of White- horse, overlooking some of Mr. Butt Miller's best country. Here William Leader and Craddock have their homes for racehorses, and here is still green the memory of The Bloomer's great sons and daughters, George Frederick, Albert Victor, and others. And as I climb the hill, and take the old Marlborough road for choice, 1897.1 AMONGST THE DOWNS. 27 the panorama expands delight- fully. On the left, looking across some intervening lowlands* are the Downs of FoxhiUand Lyddington, where Robinson has made such a name for himself and shown us what Irish blood such as Clorane and Winkfield's Pride can do on English racecourses. Beyond yonder hill peeps up the Russley domain, ever associated with Merry and his Thormanby, cum multis aliis. Travelling another mile or two through cultivated land you come to the training Sounds of Wroughton, where I Qcy that the plough must have made inroads since the days of Tom Olliver and Mr. Cartwright, yet enough downs remain to en- sure more triumphs such as those of Worcester and Count Schom- berg on the now forgotten race- course of Burderop. A stiff climb from here brings you to the crest of the hills, where your eye ranges over Downs and nothing but Downs. Here is the famous Four Mile Clump, which marks the boundary of splendid gallops that Lynham and Cbas. Peck enjoy, whilst their stables nestle down at Ogbourne, in the valley to the left. Such fine gallops as these are must, with the advantage of sufficiently good material, ensure the winning of great races in the near future. This Four Mile Clump is a landmark of renown, and from its vantage ground you also see stretching away on the right the Downs of Manton, the expanse of which astonish you. They seem to extend far into the dim distance, interspersed here and there by plantations — a veritable New- market of themselves — where at least one hundred horses could be galloped in perfect seclusion as far as touts were concerned. That bird's eye view of Manton set me wondering why so few Manton horses have tried their luck on a racecourse of late, and why Messrs. Taylor do not come more to the front. 'Tis true a Love Wisely or an Aborigine occasionally drops as a surprise upon us. But were I the owner ot such a glorious domain as Manton, I should aspire to lead back in triumph another St. Albans before many seasons had passed over my head. I fail to see the drawbacks, unless they arise from the lack of patrons. At last, Nitrofurantoin Monohydrate 100 Mg while thus ruminating, there lies Marlborough below us, and the Ailesbury Arms welcomes me. St)eaking of inns, here is a sign that for a moment puzzles me, until a glance at its signpost reveals that "The Five Alls" represent The Queen who reigns over all — The Bishop, who prays for all — The Barrister, who pleads for all — The Doctor, who presciibes for all — The Banker, who pays for all — But I dare not linger over the tempting old town of Marl- borough, with its splendid college. My goal lies six miles distant on the Devizes road, at Beckhampton, and although I turn aside for a mile or two, so as not to miss the wonderful old British encampment at Avebury, I soon find a welcome at the pretty residence of Mr. Sam Darling at the junction of the roads to Calne and Devizes — so neatly converted that you do not recognise it as the coaching inn, where in old days many a thirsty traveller has whet his whistle, nor would Isaac Wool- cott, were he again to come to life, know his old set of boxes from whence went forth Formosa, the well named, the only previous classic winner from here within my recollection, and whose owner for ever after went by the name of Formosa Graham. It is all Darling*s freehold now, and such gorgeous boxes and neat yards 28 BAILY S MAGAZINE. [July are not to be found outside New- market, and as for the downs, Buy Nitrofurantoin Monohydrate there are very few trainers who may not envy him both as regards variety and quality. They are simply splendid. It is not my wish to speak individually of the many good-looking horses that Darling in due time introduced me to. He and I had been friends for many a long day, and I can recollect him when he left his apprenticeship with Weaver at Bourton, and trained a short time afterwards a few jumpers on Defford Common. It was a good day for him when he came to Beckhampton,and perhaps abetter when he secured his two Irish patrons, Mr. John Gubbins and Captain Greer. "This is a colt by Kendal," was the trainer's quiet remark, as he opened one of the boxes. Some mediocre nameless animal no doubt, but ** Borderer " could not be thus caught with chaff. It took him not a moment to know that he stood in Galtee More's box. Now, I am afraid that many of your readers are satiated with all the flaming accounts that have lately filled the sporting papers of this Derby winner. Yet I will take heart of grace, and give you my description of him, believing that this may be read when the files of the Sportsman have been forgotten, and I trust ere long to see a worthy portrait of him in your pages. He has filled out in the right places since I