splendid coat, silky mane
and tail, lofty crest, and soft mild eyes, she looks indeed worthy of her
Royal mistress. "Jessie's" pedigree is unknown to us, but she was bred
near Balmoral. She is about fifteen hands three inches in height, black
as a coal, and with peculiar white markings on forehead and back. She
is now twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, and, until within the last
twelve months, has carried Her Majesty for many years. The Queen is
very fond of "Jessie," who, although now, from old age, past work, is
invariably sent to the Castle for inspection when Her Majesty is at
Windsor.
[Illustration: JESSIE 1892.]
A very different-looking animal is the grey Arab in the next stable.
This magnificent horse was presented to Her Majesty by the Thakore of
Morvi, and does not bear the best of stable reputations, but when
mounted he is docility itself, and a very faithful worker. The grey's
wardrobe, when he came to England, consisted of the following
gorgeous trappings:--Saddle of red and green cloth, under felt, pad for
saddle, embroidered saddle-cloth, embroidered bridle, plume, hood in
cloth of gold, leg-ring and pad, embroidered neckpiece, embroidered
quarter-piece, four bunches of woollen tassels, and a silk scarf. Arrayed
in all this splendour and ridden by a native attendant, he was brought
into the Grand Quadrangle at Windsor to be presented to Her Majesty
with due and appropriate ceremonies. He is tall for an Arab, with
whitish body, dark grey legs, pink muzzle, and silky black mane, which
hangs over the near or left side of his neck. In the next stable stand
twelve beautiful brougham horses, ranging from dark brown to light
chestnut in colour. Next to the brougham horses are four brown ponies,
about fourteen hands high. These animals were all bred from a pony
called "Beatrice," which the Princess Beatrice was accustomed to ride.
[Illustration: THE GREY ARAB.]
In the next carriage-house stands a gorgeous char-à-banc, presented to
Her Majesty by Louis Philippe. Then come the carriages of the
household, weighing about fifteen hundredweight each. The most
curious-looking vehicles, however, are the long-shafted Russian
droschkies, meant to be drawn by three horses abreast.
In another carriage-house is a vehicle replete with historical and
pathetic interest. This is none other than the post-chaise in which Her
Majesty and the late Prince Consort travelled all through Germany
about seven years after their marriage. It is fitted up with a writing-case,
and all sorts of conveniences, and hung on C springs.
The cheerful tap-tap of a hammer, and a keen, pungent scent as of
something burning, warn us that we are in the vicinity of the Royal
smithy. A handsome grey carriage-horse is being shod, one hoof
doubled up between the farrier's legs, as that worthy, with quick taps,
drives in a long nail, and makes the shoe fast.
The Royal mews, which were built in 1841, cover a space of no less
than four acres of ground, and, together with those at Buckingham
Palace, are under the able supervision of Colonel Sir George Maude,
K.C.B., R.A., &c., who also purchases most of Her Majesty's horses. It
is no light testimonial to the care of their management when we hear
that, although sometimes as many as one hundred horses are
accommodated at Windsor, the veterinary surgeon's account only
amounts for the year to a most insignificant sum.
We cannot take our leave, for the present, of the Royal pets without
again returning our hearty thanks to all with whom we have been
brought in contact, for their kindness, courtesy, and desire to assist us
in our mission. To all loyal subjects who wish to see a model of a good
Queen's home we can give no better advice than to go to Royal
Windsor.
[Illustration: DIEU ET MON DROIT.]
(The Editors of The Idler return their most sincere thanks to General Sir
Henry Ponsonby, G.C.B., &c., &c., for his kind correction and revision
of the above article.)
PEOPLE I HAVE NEVER MET.
BY SCOTT RANKIN.
-----
[Illustration: HEINRIK IBSEN.]
"We are all of us ghosts.... It is not only what we have inherited from
our father and mother that 'walks' in us. It is all sorts of dead ideas, and
lifeless old beliefs, and so forth. They have no vitality, but they cling to
us all the same, and we can't get rid of them. Whenever I take up a
newspaper I seem to see ghosts gliding between the lines. There must
be ghosts all the country over, as thick as the sands of the
sea."--IBSEN.
THE RECLAMATION OF JOE HOLLENDS.
BY ROBERT BARR.
ILLUSTRATIONS BY J. GREIG.
-----
[Illustration: "THE WRONGS OF THE WORKING MAN."]
The public-houses of Burwell Road--and there were many of them for
the length of the street--were rather proud
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