TRANSLATION.
I saw Lord Coventry at the Worcester races. He rode his own horse in the steeple-chase for the silver—no, it was a gold tankard, I think, but he lost.
It was that young gentleman who one day in his own park saw a Gipsy tent by the side of a hedge, and took a flying leap over tent, hedge, and all. “Ha, what’s here?” he cried, as he saw the little brown children; “a Gipsy’s tent!” And from that day he let that Gipsy stay as much as he pleased on his land.
Bold men have generous hearts.