A funeral urn, in Notre Dame de Grotta-Feratta, has a representation of two young boys, both naked, and sitting upon rocks, from the top of which they are fishing with a line. Each has caught a little fish. Below in the sea, are large fishes, swimming, and other fishes adorn the cover of the urn. This urn is engraved in Montfautçon's work. A crystal urn, in the form of a fish, was found near Tongres in 1698; it bears the following inscription: Politicus Albina Karissianæ suæ. Bosio gives an engraving of an ancient Christian sarcophagus, on which a man fishing with a rod and line is represented. Belloc gives a representation of an engraved cornelian upon which is a fisherman holding a basket in one hand, and in the other a line, from which a little fish is suspended; the word IXOY is written near the fish.*

"Rom. Sottere."

JOHN PATERSON'S MARE.

ANNALS OF SPORTING: BEING A FAITHFUL PICTURE OF SOME OF THE LEADING INCIDENTS CONNECTED WITH PERIODICAL LITERATURE IN GREAT BRITAIN IN THE EARLY PORTION OF THE PRESENT CENTURY.

"John Paterson's mare,

She canna be here,

We neither ha'e stable nor hay for her;

Whip her out! turn her out!

Sax shillings in a clout!

O'er the kirk-stile and away wi' her!"

OLD SONG.

THIS is a very old song and tune, and alike well known in both Scotland and England: in the latter it is entitled the "Horseman's Sport. The circumstances that gave rise to it are minutely described by Anthony Hoole in his History of the North Riding of Yorkshire, and are so comic and whimsical, that I have been induced to take down the substance of them in a language somewhat intelligible to modern readers, with as few encroachments as possible on the simple original.

The dale of Dunabbey was, it seems, Mr. Hoole's native place, and he delights to dwell on the transactions of that, even to its most trivial concerns. It was, he says, "the most fertile, thriving, and happy vale, of all

that large division of the country, until rent and disturbed by the jealousies and quarrels of some of its inhabitants; and after anger and heart-burnings about such a matter as that which followeth, who shall say unto himself I shall have peace? Verily strife may be said to arise out of the ground, or to be drawn in by the nostrils of men, as they inhale the air that is mixed with fire.”

It appears, from Hoole's narrative, that the principal or head tenant of this vale was one John Paterson, who had for a long period of years maintained his superiority, and even at the time that Hoole wrote, was still contriving to bear up a considerable importance, though rather with a struggle, and not at all with the same good grace as in former days. John came to that valley from the north, a young adventurer, without either money or credit, but determined to push his way right or wrong; to such a man it is not every trifle that will be a bar. He found means to connect himself by marriage to a respectable old farmer, who being a kind and a good man, wisely judged that it was better for him to support and countenance the young hero than to do the contrary, and from that time forward John throve and flourished every day. He took a farm of his own, and succeeded to an amazing degree; for speculation that ruins many a farmer, with him seldom ever misgave. He grew very rich, and exceeding fat; yea, so plump and sleek did he become in appearance, that he was nicknamed “the Bishop;" for, what is very uncommon with us, Mr. Hoole assures us that every individual of that district, man and woman, has some by-name.

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Notwithstanding John's origin, he had the manners of

a gentleman. His address was good, plausible, and obsequious to his superiors; but to those that were below him, supercilious and intolerant in no ordinary degree. He lent small sums of money to all his neighbour farmers, gave them good dinners occasionally, and kept open house on Sundays, by which means he kept them entirely at his steps; they cajoled and commended him, and bore all the caprices of his temper without repining, and things went on very well.

Among the rest there was one of whom he made a mere footstool, or rather a scraper for his shoes. He occupied a mill and a small farm on the other side of the water, immediately opposite to Bishop Paterson's door, and as he behoved of course to have some by-name like the rest, they denominated him Sleek Cobby, that being a familiar appellation for Colbert, which was his true Christian name. Hoole thinks that the reason why they gave him that title, was because of his soft luxuriant appearance, for he was fully as fat and sleek as John himself, and so like were they one another, that strangers mistook them often for brothers.

He fell greatly short of the Bishop, however, in shrewdness, for he was lazy and inactive, and except it were selling meal and bran by the peck, he could never be induced to transact any business unless the Bishop urged him to it, or managed it for him. His chief delight was in flirting with the girls that came about the mill to sift the flour, or purchase small morsels of meal and barley; and it was insinuated through all the parish that many of them made errands there for mere shams and trifles, pretending to look at his samples, perhaps, or

learn the news about the markets, but really on purpose "He fawned

to get a gallant with the amorous miller. and fiddled about them," says Anthony Hoole, with the greatest simplicity, "as turtle doves do with their mates and associates, and although he did teaze many of them not a little, yet were they patient, as they knew there was not any danger abiding in the man."

It appeareth, also, from Hoole's narrative, that Cobby was accustomed to go to every house in the parish at which a dinner was provided, where he ate well of the best things at table, and drank incredible quantities of the farmers' October beer. After which, as the only return in his power, he sang them fine songs until he sometimes put them all into a delicious sleep; for Cobby did not keep any house of his own that anybody knew of, it being supposed that he slept in some wretched hovel in the village behind the mill.

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A mill conducted in this way, it well be supposed, could not be very lucrative. Of course, when the rent day came, our gay and careless miller had often to apply to his neighbour the Bishop, in order to enable him to meet my lord's steward properly provided. John did not fail to tell him to his face, how soulless and insignificant a being he deemed him, yet seldom or never sent him away without his errand. And, besides, John was often obliged to Cobby; for whenever the farmer had company whom he wished to amuse, he sent for the miller, who came joyfully and sang songs to them, and helped them out with their beer. Indeed, it was thought that if he had been disinclined to come, which he was

not, he durst not have refused. This man, with many