I set out last week from Epsom, and am safe arrived in my new stables at this place. My situation may serve as a lesson to man: I was once the fleetest horse in the world, but old age has come upon me, and wonder not, King Fergus, when I tell thee, I was drawn in a carriage from Epsom to Cannons, being unable to walk even a short journey. Every house, as well as every dog, has his day; and I have had mine. I have outlived two worthy masters, the Late Duke of Cumberland, that bred me, and the Colonel, with whom I spent my best days; but I must not repine, I am now caressed, not so much foe what I can do, but for what I have done.
I am glad to hear, my grandson, Honest Tom, performs so well in Ireland, and trust that he, amd the rest of my progeny, will do honour to the name of their grandsire,
P.S. Myself, Dungannon, Volunteer, and Vertumnus, are all here.
Compliments to the Yorkshire horses