Michaelmas.
FROM OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT.
_Tuesday night_.--Depths of the fens--just arrived--only time to state all
muck--live eels and festivity--Sibthorp in extra force--betting 6 to 4
"he cooks everybody's goose"--no takers--D'Israeli says it's a gross want
of sympathy--full account to-morrow--expect rare doings--must
conclude--whrr-rh-h--tertian coming on--promises great shakes.
I am, sincerely and shiveringly,
YOUR OWN CORRESPONDENT.
_Wednesday morning_.--The day dawned like a second deluge, and the various
volunteer _dramatis personae_ seemed like the spectres of the defunct
water-dogs of Sadler's Wells. An eminent tallow-chandler from the east end
of Whitechapel contracted for the dripping, and report says he found it a
very swimming speculation. Life-preservers, waterproof and washable hats,
were on the ground, which, together with Macintoshes and corks, formed a
pleasing and varied group. The grand stand was graced by several eminent
and capacious geese; nor was the infantine simplicity of numerous
promising young goslings wanting to complete the delightful _ensemble_.
The business of the day commenced with a grand commemorative procession of
homage to the prize goose, the representative of whom, we are proud to
say, fell by election to the envied lot of the gallant, jocose, and _Joe
Miller_tary Colonel Sibthorp.
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