Chapter IV: Wherein I Fall in Love with the Sea (1)

On the twelfth day of November, 1811, my new life began. But before I go on I should explain that on the outside of the paper which the lawyer had saved, and which I had deciphered on the day of the burning of Marshwood House (and which has staid in my mind, as I transcribed it also), an address had been found. In some way it had been overlooked upon the first reading. It was important, however, as it gave the address of my uncle, Monsieur Henri Amedee Lovalle de Brienne, as Miller's Falls, near Stonington, Connecticut.

The lawyer had written to this place a letter at some length, but we had waited in vain for a reply; letters often went astray in those days, and in some way, as I afterwards discovered, this one was most likely lost. In the mean time I had become a member of Mr. Edgerton's family. I was treated with kindness, but of course it was not expected of him to take charge of my maintenance, and the proposition for a change came from my own lips. In walking along the water-front one day I discovered that a little brig, the _Minetta_, was about to sail for Stonington, and I proposed to Mr. Edgerton to take passage in her and search out my relative, if he were living.

The lawyer, who I could see felt himself responsible in some way for the beginning of my misfortune, exacted a promise that should I fail in finding M. de Brienne, I would return to him, and I should have done so had affairs terminated otherwise than as they did.

The consultation in which this decision was arrived at took place on the evening of the tenth of the month; and it was two days later, as I have written, that my new life began. For bright and early that morning I was standing at the taffrail of the little brig that was being warped out into midstream.

Mr. Edgerton and his family, consisting of a maiden sister and a grown daughter (he had been a widower for some ten years), together with Mr. Thompson, the school-master, the major, the kind doctor, and some of my boy companions, were on the dock. And I must not forget that Aunt Sheba, Ann Martha, and Ol' Peter were there also, all three of them in tears.

The lawyer had promised to take care of Peter, and the doctor had taken Aunt Sheba and Ann Martha into his household. I am glad to say that I had not sold the old people, although I had a perfect right to do so, as they were my property, but had given them their freedom, and knew they were left in kind hands and keeping.

Soon the faces on shore became indistinct. The brig took in her kedge anchors, the trilling of her capstan falls ceased, her jibs rattled up the stays, the yards creaked aslant, and we caught the light westerly breeze. The tide was setting out, and we made good travelling of it.

I was not the only passenger. There was a Virginian, by the name of Chaffee, a tobacco-planter, who was going on the voyage as a sort of supercargo, and his wife (a slight, black-eyed woman of much spirit) accompanied him.

The Captain and first mate were both New Bedford men, and tiptop sailors, as circumstances proved afterwards. The crew of eight men were Americans also, so far as I could judge, three of them being negroes--great, deep-chested black fellows, worth large sums of money in the market; but they were free men, and held themselves differently from slaves, although one, Pompey, waited on the cabin table.

Whether the _Minetta_'s crew was a picked one or not I do not know, but no man would have felt ashamed of being over them. I can say that much. As for the brig, she was something over one hundred and eighty tons burden, and loaded with tobacco, sole-leather, and turpentine; she was light in ballast, and in good trim for fast sailing.

The crew for the most part slept in a tall deck-house on the forecastle, built around the foremast, and the cabin was given up to Mr. Chaffee and his wife; the two officers and myself bunked in a little cubby-hole forward of the after-skylight.

The _Minetta_ was old-fashioned, and her high poop and top sides gave her a clumsy look; her spars and masts were very heavy for her tonnage, and I think had been built for a larger vessel; but she spread a great show of canvas, and the way she boiled the water up in front of her proved she was no laggard.

We kept well to the eastern shore as we went down the bay, but, nevertheless, I soon made out the mouth of the Gunpowder River, and could see the stark walls of my old home standing out against the trees.

Here I was, scarce fourteen years of age, and starting into the wide world alone, verily with my bridges burned behind me! Mr. Chaffee had entered into conversation with me, and he and his wife displaying great interest, I told him as much of my story as I thought proper. So far as the Captain and first mate went, I might not have existed.

That night as I lay on my narrow little shelf, I was so full of thinking that at first I could not sleep. I longed for comfort, and would have given worlds to have rested my head on Aunt Sheba's shoulder. I half sobbed aloud from loneliness, but at last I dozed off, and was awakened some hours afterwards by feeling the vessel pitching heavily.

Strange noises sounded all about me. Every plank overhead and on each side seemed to have a voice of its own. It was the first time I heard these sounds. Some loud bawling and the sound of scurrying from on deck caused me to start up suddenly, and I almost cracked my skull against a beam. After that I could not sleep, and lowering myself from the bunk I dressed and climbed out to the air.

I had imagined, from the patter of many feet, that I should find the whole crew trying to save the ship from some distress, and I was not prepared for the calm sight which met my eyes. It was moonlight, and all sail was set. The brig rose and fell steadily, occasionally taking a sea-chug under her broad bows with a jar which made her quiver, and the water would fly up in a gleaming sprinkle and scatter along the wet rail. Only four men were in sight--one at the wheel, two gathered in the lee of the forward deck-house, and the first mate leaning back against the skylight, smoking a long clay pipe.

(Oh, I have forgotten to mention that I had noticed the captain snoring in his bunk as I left the cabin, which had been reassuring.) The cool breeze and the damp on my cheeks were grateful to me, and then and there I fell in love with the sea (and I have truly never lost it). I staid on deck breathing a strange freedom until the morning watch.

About noon of this day the breeze had freshened, and we were carrying only our lower sails. The planter and his wife both kept the cabin, suffering much from the unusual motion, but as for myself I can here record I have never felt a touch of that sickness which is expected to accompany a first voyage or to follow a long stay ashore. I revelled in the swinging of the vessel, and wished it would blow harder, which it did.

At four o'clock in the afternoon a sail was made out to the northward, and holding the course that we already were we would have passed close by her, as she was bearing down on us before the wind. I noticed, however, that as the stranger became clearer, and her lower courses could be seen, the first mate went aloft with a glass, and hurrying down held consultation with Captain Morrison. In pursuance to orders, the brig's course was altered a few points, and we stood to the eastward to give the approaching vessel a wider berth. But no sooner had we done so than the latter held up a trifle, as if it were her intention to intercept us, and an hour's more sailing brought her into plain view.

She was a vessel the like of which I had never seen up to that day. Her hull appeared as large as one of the many-windowed warehouses of the wharves of Baltimore, and her towering tiers of canvas gleamed white in the sunlight. A smother of foam rolled under her forefoot.

A few more turns of the wheel now, and we were holding a course due east, sailing close on the wind.

"She means to head us off," said Captain Morrison, looking about with a scowl.

Why he should have any cause for alarm I did not know; but I could see that the crew were much disturbed, and were gathered in a whispering cluster at the break of the forecastle, watching the vessel with anxious eyes. I timidly approached Mr. Norcross, the mate.

"Is she a pirate?" I inquired, half fearing.

"Yes, about that," was the gruff return. "She's a British line-of-battle ship, and keeps the seas, with all her kind, by robbery."

"Will she harm us?" I inquired again.

"Not you, my son," he answered. "But she would like to get her clutches on some of our brave lads yonder." He nodded his head toward the group of seamen.

Slowly but surely we were nearing the huge vessel now holding the same course as our own. It was a grand sight! As she heeled over, the gleam of her copper showed in the hollows of the waves that swept past her, and the shadows on her white sails were as blue as the sky overhead. Her ports were open, and the muzzles of the black guns could be made out plainly. The red coats of a party of marines on her forecastle made a bright patch of color, and some men sprawling out on her great yard-arms were no bigger to the eye than ants.

The Captain was giving nervous glances at our shaking foresail. Then he took a look across the water, as if measuring the distance and the rate of the other's travelling. Suddenly a smile wrinkled his cheeks.

"We're outpointing the old whale, Mr. Norcross," he said, grinning.

"Ay, sir; given the wind hold as it is and she will pass astern of us."

The crew by this time had noticed this fact, and a movement began amongst them. One, a tall fellow with light hair and a well set up figure, took a few steps of a horn-pipe.

"Not this time, Johnny Bull; not this time," he laughed, slapping one of his companions on the shoulder. "I know her; it's the _Plantaganet_; and I'd go overboard with a shot at my heels before I put a foot on her deck. She reeks of the cat!"

I was soon to learn why this man, whose name was Dash, knew so much. As soon as he had finished his dancing, the tall sailor and another man ran aft.

"Shall we show our colors, sir?" the former asked of Captain Morrison.

"Ay; toss them out," replied the Captain, whose good humor had now returned.

A minute later the stars and stripes were crackling at our peak. The line-of-battle ship was almost even with us by this time. Faces could be seen above her bulwarks. Suddenly a puff of white smoke burst out from one of her forward ports, and a ball skipped and plashed across our bows--so close that we heard the slap of it against the water; then the report came to us. The Captain mounted the bulwarks, and taking off his hat, made an elaborate bow.

"Sorry I cannot stop, you great big hog," he said; and then standing there bareheaded, he burst into such a torrent of cursing that Mrs. Chaffee, who had come out of the cabin, and was anxious to see the sight, sought its refuge again. But we had outpointed the battle-ship, and crossed athwart her bows.

Not three hundred yards astern of us she roared past.

"She dassent fire a broadside at us, or she'd do it in a minute," muttered Mr. Norcross, looking back over his shoulder.

He had taken the wheel himself during the last few minutes, and had handled it amazingly, I can tell you.

As if afraid to acknowledge her discomfiture, the three-decker went on in silence, like she had not seen us, and our men, who were now all in the rigging of the brig, burst out into a cheer.

But they were cheering too early in the game, and this was soon to be proved.

Somehow, despite Captain Morrison's excited profanity, I had begun to admire him hugely.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

THE TRUE STORY OF ONE OF QUEEN VICTORIA'S DOGS.

BY KATHARINE DE FOREST.

This is the way I came to hear the story: One summer afternoon, two or three years ago, I was sitting in front of a hotel in a Normandy watering-place, watching for the diligence to come from Fécamp. At last it appeared in the distance. And then began my surprise. For when I had first caught sight of the figures in the imperial there had seemed something familiar about them, and as they came nearer and I could see the faces, they looked so much like some faces I knew that I could hardly believe my eyes. It was--but no, it could not be--yes, it was; it was the MacAlpines! There were Mr. and Mrs. MacAlpine getting out from inside the diligence, and there were Janie and Isa and Fédie, Tom and Alec and the maid, climbing down from the top, with, in Janie's arms, the dearest little dog--the dearest little blue Skye terrier--you ever saw.

"And who is this?" I said at last, looking at the little dog that Janie still held in her arms, while Mrs. MacAlpine was talking to Madame Ernestine, the landlady of the hotel, about rooms, and Mr. MacAlpine was watching the men take down the luggage, and counting the different pieces. "This is a new member of the family. I thought you said you never would take a dog about with you, Mr. MacAlpine."

"And so I did," said Mr. MacAlpine. "But this isn't an every-day dog. This is a family dog, and a dog of high degree. Almost anybody would be glad to take her about."

"This is the Queen's dog," said Alec, giving her a pat, "or it used to be."

"Has it ever been to court?" I asked.

"Yes, indeed, she has!" said Janie. "Haven't you, Lassie darling? She's done all sorts of wonderful things, Aunt Katharine." (I was not really the children's aunt. They only called me so because we loved each other so much.) "She doesn't look like other dogs. She's much prettier."

"Yes, and more clever," put in Tom.

"She's certainly a very wonderful little dog," said Mrs. MacAlpine, who had finished arranging about the rooms. "And of all the strange stories you ever heard, Aunt Katharine, hers is the strangest. We'll tell you all about it when we've been upstairs and got a little of this dust off. What are you going to do this afternoon? Can't we have tea together by-and-by when we're clean and rested?"

"Oh, my cake!" I called out, suddenly remembering it. "My beautiful Paris cake! I must go and get it. We'll have our tea in the cabin on the beach, and Tom and Alec shall carry down the tea-things. We'll meet at the front door of the hotel at four o'clock;" and off I ran to get my parcels.

At four o'clock we went down in procession to the beach, and settled ourselves in front of our bathing-cabin.

And then Mr. MacAlpine began the story: "Once upon a time I lived with my father and mother and brothers and sisters in the beautiful islands called the Hebrides. The Hebrides, you know, are islands off the coast of Scotland, and they are noted for their wild and romantic scenery. But scenery, I am sorry to say, was something that I didn't much appreciate when I was a boy, and I would have given the whole of it for some boys of my own age to play with. My brothers were all older and my sisters younger than I, so I had to get my lessons and go to the manse to recite them by myself; and very lonely work it was too, until one day my father brought me home a blue Skye terrier, Lassie, just like this little dog here.

"From the first moment I saw her I loved her almost better than anything in the world. She was so little that I could take her about with me everywhere I went, tucked away in my plaid when we climbed the rocks and went long distances, and she always sat by me when I did my lessons, and I spent all my spare time playing with her and teaching her tricks. She could beg, and play dead, and wink one eye, and sneeze, and do more things than I ever heard of a dog's doing before or since, and she could understand everything I said to her exactly like a person, and altogether I was perfectly happy with her up to the time Lady Jane came to see us.

"Lady Jane was a cousin of my father's who was one of the Queen's ladies-in-waiting, and a very grand lady she was, indeed. She always came with so many boxes and bundles that we boys had a sort of feeling it would be polite for us to move out and give the house to her, and she also made us feel that everything she said must be obeyed, because she represented the Queen, and we had been brought up to be very good and loyal subjects. So you can imagine how I felt one day when she said to me: 'Tom, I'm going to take your little dog back with me as a present for her Majesty. You've trained her so nicely, and you won't care, will you? I'll send you something else in its place.'

"My very heart stood still at these words. Lady Jane had a way of having her own way if she wanted it, and none of us could stand out against her, and so I went to my mother about it. 'She wouldn't take Lassie, _would_ she, mother?' I said, looking into her eyes to try to read there what she thought. And my mother said of course not, and comforted me, and I went off for a long walk and tried to think no more about it. But I couldn't help but feel uneasy, and after that I kept my dog out of the way as much as possible until in a little while Lady Jane seemed to have forgotten her. She was away nearly all the time--on excursions or visiting at the great houses in the neighborhood--so that we children seldom saw her, and by-and-by the last evening of her stay came.

"There were fine doings at our house that night. I can see the big hall now with a roaring fire in the chimney-place at one end, throwing its light over the deer-heads and odd birds and trophies with which the walls were hung. And the Highlanders came up with their bagpipes and played for us all to dance Sir Roger de Coverley up and down the polished floor, and Lady Jane and my father danced a jig, and my sisters sang, and I put Lassie through her tricks, and made her perform the celebrated double somerset, which was the last trick I had taught her. Everybody laughed, Lady Jane the most of all, and then she kissed us children good-night and bade us good-by, and I went up stairs happy. For Lady Jane would be gone in the morning; her trunks were strapped and in the front hall now, and I went to sleep with Lassie curled up by me, and a lighter heart than I had since the day when she first spoke to me about the dog.

"It seemed to me I had only slept a moment when I began to dream of icebergs, and then I was waked up suddenly by some one's pulling all the bedclothes off from me. Then a hand snatched up Lassie, and before I could realize what was happening Lady Jane's voice, very fresh and wide-awake, said: 'Now, Tom, don't feel badly, but you know I must have Lassie, and I've come after her. I'll send you something nice in her place, my boy,' and before I could say a word she was out of the door and my little dog was gone.

"There was no time for thinking. Like a flash I was out of bed and into my clothes and rushing along the road to the pier where Lady Jane's boat lay, trying to keep back the big tears as I went. But it was too late. Just as I came up to the landing the boat sailed slowly out of the harbor, and there in the stern was Lady Jane standing, waving her handkerchief to the people on the shore, and under one arm I could see a little shaggy head and a pair of bright eyes that seemed to look at me with a sad farewell look, and my little dog went sailing away on the unknown sea, and I burst into tears with my heart breaking, for I never expected to see her again."

"And did you?" I asked, eagerly. "Is this dog--"

"Ah, that's the strange part of the story," said Mr. MacAlpine. "Janie is the one who can tell that. Janie, tell Aunt Katharine the rest."

Janie's rosy Scotch face dimpled, and smiling up at her father, she went on:

"Well, you know that was always our favorite story, about when papa was a little boy in the Hebrides, and about the little dog he lost, but we always wanted to hear the end of it. We wanted to know what became of Lassie after Lady Jane took her, and if the Queen liked her, and if she did her tricks; but Lady Jane died soon after she went back to Balmoral, and papa's father went to Canada and took papa with him, and so we could only guess about Lassie, and make papa make up what happened to her.

"And then one time mamma and Isa and Fédie and I were going home from England, and mamma and the maid were so seasick they had to stay down in the cabin, but we children sat in steamer chairs on the deck, so miserable, and with nothing to do to amuse ourselves. And then a little bit of a dog that belonged to the lady sitting in a chair next ours jumped down from her lap and came over and stood in front of us, and stood up on her hind legs and began to sneeze. We all began to laugh, and then we said how exactly she was like papa's little dog that he used to tell us about, and she used to sneeze too, and they were the only dogs we had ever heard of that did. And then we said we wished we knew what the dog's name was, and the lady it belonged to said it was Lassie, and then we couldn't help but cry out,'Oh, how strange!' Then the lady asked us what was strange, and we told her about our Lassie, and she told us about her Lassie, and we found out that hers was the granddaughter of ours. And this lady, who had been one of the Queen's ladies-in-waiting herself, could remember when Lady Jane brought Lassie there.

"The Queen _had_ liked papa's little dog, and had always kept her, and when her maid of honor left England for Canada her Majesty had given her one of Lassie's puppies to take with her.

"Before the ship reached Quebec we all got to be great friends, and just the last day out the lady called me to her, and said, 'My dear, I'm going to make you a present of this little dog if you'll take her. My maid doesn't like dogs, and I'm not strong enough myself to take care of her. And it was Lady Jane that carried your father's Lassie away, and it shall be Janie that brings her back.'"

"Yes, because the oldest girl in the MacAlpine family is always named Jane," put in Tom.

"And then when papa came down to the wharf to meet them," said Alec, "there was Janie standing on the ship and waving to him, and under her arm was a bundle and a pair of bright eyes, and there was Lassie come sailing back when he was a grown-up man."

BOXING FOR BOYS.

BY S. SCOVILLE, JUN.

There are two reasons why a boy should understand and practise boxing. First, because in the life of every one there come times when it is necessary to defend one's self or others. There are very few occasions when a boy need ever fight on his own account. Sometimes, of course, it is absolutely necessary, but more often it only seems so, and the older a boy becomes, the more he is convinced that in boys' affairs, as well as in those of nations, arbitration is the only sensible and civilized way of settling disputes. Occasionally, however, there comes a crisis when a boy must defend another weaker than himself, and then it is that a boxer knows what to do and does it, while an untrained boy either shirks his duty or, if very brave, tries to interfere, and usually makes matters worse by being hurt himself.

At a Yale-Harvard football game in Springfield, the writer noticed an incident which illustrates very forcibly the advantage of knowing how to box. Some rows ahead of the writer in the grand stand, a slim young fellow, certainly not more than eighteen years old, was sitting with a lady in the aisle seats. During the intermission between the halves he stepped some distance down the aisle to speak to a friend. Just then a rough-looking character, who had been drinking enough to be quarrelsome, pushed his way into the row, insisting that the lady was in his seat, and seizing her by the shoulder, tried to pull her out into the aisle. The boy turned at her call and sprang back. As the rough faced him the other stepped easily forward, and like a flash his left shot out from the shoulder and landed just under his opponent's chin--a clean scientific lead with all his weight back of it. The rough went down, striking his head heavily against the boards, lay there a moment, and then climbing unsteadily to his feet, slunk off without a word. There were no police officers nearer than the field, the lady was in the boy's care, was insulted, and in danger of being injured. In time the crowd would have interfered, but it was a case for immediate action. To protect a woman at any cost is the duty of every American boy. This one had developed and trained his strength so as to make it effectual for exactly such an emergency. He knew just how and where to strike, and--the thing was over. Altogether the incident convinced the writer more than ever that boys owe it to themselves and their manhood, as protectors of all things weak, to learn to use their strength most effectively. And it is wonderful how effective a knowledge of boxing will make a very small amount of strength. The writer remembers seeing a skilled light-weight boxer in a college boxing-room easily best the stroke oar of a class crew--a man of tremendous strength and weight, but one who had never learned to box.

The second reason why a boy should learn to box is because boxing not only teaches him how to utilize the strength that he has, but before long it tremendously increases that same strength. Nearly every muscle of the body is brought into play. The triceps, or pushing muscles on the back of the arm, the shoulder and back muscles, are the ones especially developed in boxing. The bare back of a boxer is a perfect mass of muscle. Great knots and coils appear between and across the shoulders with every movement, while the ridges stand out clear down to the base of the spine. Let a boy practise a single left-hand lead in front of a mirror in gymnastic costume, and note how many muscles are used. Besides the above-mentioned ones, the leg, thigh, fore-arm, stomach, and breast muscles are all called upon indirectly. Besides strengthening all the muscles, boxing trains the eye, gives quickness and a lithe, easy carriage, broadens and deepens the chest, and enlarges the lungs, and, best of all, teaches self-control, and gives a certain indefinable feeling of strength and safety that comes only with a strong well-trained body.

So much for the advantages of boxing. It is not the writer's purpose in this article to do more than give the most general hints in regard to the actual blows and parries. Boxing cannot be taught on paper, and a boy can learn more in one lesson from a good teacher than by reading volumes. But a few brief hints may aid those who are not fortunate enough to be under an instructor.

And first, as to the selection of a teacher. Above all things, get one that is a scientific boxer, not some strapping bruiser that will knock you around at so much an hour. Every town has some veteran boxer who will be glad to give boys a start in sparring. The first principles should be learned thoroughly and correctly, or the pupil will always be bothered by some clumsy habit picked up as a beginner. It was only this winter that the writer broke his thumb by a wrong blow learned ten years back from his first teacher, and which, in the excitement of a hard-fought bout, is only too apt to crop out in spite of years of warning from half a dozen instructors.

The first important thing to learn in boxing is the position. Figure 1. represents what the writer considers an ideal position. The left foot should be in front, with the right foot from fifteen to eighteen inches in the rear and from six to eight inches to the right. The left hip should point nearly front. By that position the whole body can be protected from any right-hand blows by simply dropping the left arm as shown in illustration No. 2. The right arm should rest across the chest, with the glove on the left nipple, while the left arm should be held as in the illustration. In connection with the subject of position comes the management of the feet. The weight should rest equally on both feet, and in breaking ground, as movement to one side or the other is termed, or in advancing or retreating, the feet should never be raised from the ground as in walking. Advance first the front foot some six inches, and then the back foot, so as to always keep the same relative distance between them.

Always "counter" (_i.e._, give a return blow with the hand not used in parrying) every lead of your opponent. Remember that a straight line is the shortest distance between two points, and always lead a straight blow. It comes more natural for every one to hit "round"--_i.e._, swinging--blows. But a straight hard lead is the more effective. Swing, if swing you must, when countering, never when leading. Try as much as possible to avoid blows at the face by ducking.

The left hand lead, either at the face or the body, is the most important lead of all, the first taught, and by far the hardest to learn. One of the best boxers the writer has ever met was not allowed by his teacher to practise anything else for a whole year, until it was almost impossible to avoid or parry his left-hand lead or counter, so quick did he become.

Illustration No. 3 shows a left-hand lead at the face getting home. Observe the tremendous force and drive that the blow has, while the boxer can step back instantly into perfect position, and is not thrown at all off his balance, as is the case with swinging blows. The requisites of a good left-hand lead either at face or body are:

First, that the left foot shall be advanced in a perfectly straight line with the hit (notice how straight the toe is in the illustration), otherwise the blow is apt to be pulled across in the parry and leave one desperately exposed.

Second, the weight of the body should follow the lead. This is what gives the "kick" to the blow, and more than anything else shows the difference between the veteran and the novice.

Third, the wrist should be held perfectly straight, and the blow be struck by that portion of the hand between the knuckles and the second joints of the fingers. Practise this lead constantly, either in actual boxing or at a punching-bag as it swings from you, and the instant the blow lands get away and back into position. The left-hand lead once learned, the straight left-hand counters will come easily.

Next in importance to the left-hand lead--for in our modern boxing offence is of much more importance than defence--come the parries. The guard for a right-hand body blow has already been shown in illustration No. 2. The safest parry for a left-hand body blow is by "barring"--_i.e._, laying the right hand across the body and letting the blow land on the rigid muscles of the fore arm--at the same time countering with the left, as shown in illustration No. 4.

The best answer to a lead at the face is to duck to one side or the other and counter either on the face or on the body, as shown in illustration No. 6. But sometimes it is necessary to parry it in the regulation manner. This should be done by shooting the arm out perfectly straight as if leading. This will make the blow glide easily off the wrist or arm, as shown in illustration No. 5.

Never parry with the arm bent, as is often done, for then the arm receives the full concussion of the blow, and may be badly bruised. The left-hand lead and the different parries form the first principles of boxing. Practise them again and again until they come instinctively. With these well learned a boy can do much towards defending himself, even before mastering the counters, cross-counters, upper cuts, side-steps, and all the more complicated part of boxing which can only be taught effectively by a teacher.

A last piece of advice--practise continually. Spar with everybody and anybody who will put the gloves on. By so doing one perfects what has already been learned, besides continually picking up new ideas from the different styles of his various opponents.

One of the most important of recent events in the world of interscholastic sport is the reconciliation between Exeter and Andover, and the renewal of athletic relations between these two great schools. The first meeting of the two old rivals occurred on the football field at Andover last Saturday; which was too late for any comment to get into this issue of the ROUND TABLE. Next week, however, we hope to be able to devote to the game the space due to so important an event.

It was decided on November 5 that there should be an Exeter-Andover game. On that day Andover sent a challenge to Exeter, and Exeter at once accepted. Two days later the _Exonian_ confirmed the news of the reconciliation, and spoke editorially as follows:

It is now three years since these contests were broken off, and
this thought, taken with the history of the years which went
before, may well give us cause for sober reflection. We, the school
of to-day, stand far enough apart from the school of '93 to
consider calmly the events which then took place, and to draw from
them such lessons as shall help us in the conduct of our athletics
in the future. We are able now to see that the spirit of rivalry
between the two schools, which was at first but a healthy stimulus
to all forms of athletics, had grown to such unhealthy proportions
as to cause a doubt in the minds of thinking people as to the
beneficial results of such athletics, not only to those who took
part but to the larger school bodies.

The "Exonian" then goes on to say that the students at Exeter now realize that their predecessors allowed their excitement and rivalry to carry them too far, and it asserts that it may be that the three years in which the two great schools have stood apart may not have been without their usefulness. It is to be hoped that this is true, and it is to be hoped that both Exeter and Andover will go into the new contests with a firm determination to respect not only the letter of the law of amateur sport, but likewise the spirit.

The game with Exeter, however, will not be Andover's last match of the year. They play Lawrenceville day after to-morrow. Although at the present writing the Lawrenceville team is not so strong as it was last year at this time, it is probable that with the coming days of practice, and the games with outsiders that are to be played in the meantime, the men will improve very materially. Dana's work at centre has improved considerably of late, but much of this is due to the assistance he gets from Richards and Cadwalader. There is still room for progress in his method of snapping the ball back. Another weak position is that of full-back, where Kafer is weak on catching punts.

Some of the schools of the Cook County League are still keeping up their great game of "protest." Their capacity for this sort of thing has become so great that the Chicago newspapers have even commented upon it. It would seem as if almost every team that loses a game immediately protests, with the result that most of the League matches have to be repeated. Next to protesting, the Cook County football teams seem to be ablest at forfeiting. On November 1 Northwest Division failed to meet its obligations toward Hyde Park. Northwest Division has little to be proud of in its football record this year. It has not won a game in the High-School League, and it does not seem likely that it will if it continues to forfeit.

Because a football team is weak is no excuse for not fulfilling its agreement to play another team--an obligation which it assumed when it became a member of the League. The Oak Park team is a weak eleven, but it won a victory nevertheless when it met the West Division eleven. Oak Park started in boldly and scored, and her players were so surprised at this success that they kept right on, and closed the game with a score of 32-0.

But this same game afforded an excellent illustration of the disease of "protest" which is afflicting Cook County just at present. At one point of the play, just as Hyman of Oak Park was being forced over the goal-line for a touch-down, he lost the ball, which rolled twenty feet away from him. Holdrich and Brown both made long dives for the ball, and both, falling upon it at about the same moment, claimed the leather. The referee decided in favor of Holdrich of Oak Park, and immediately the captain of the West Division team made great objections, and said that he would protest the game. Fortunately, however, better judgment prevailed later in the afternoon, and this particular game was, after all, not protested. But some of the Cook County League games have been carried before the Executive Committee on smaller grounds than these.

A close and interesting match was that between North Division and Manual Training, which resulted in favor of Manual, 6-0. For the first time in any of the League games this fall there was not a single dispute of any kind during the entire game. That is undoubtedly the principal reason why the players put up such an excellent game of football. Men cannot play football and quarrel among themselves at the same time, and, consequently, when they are weak enough to allow their tempers to get the better of them, the sport invariably suffers. Manual Training was superior in line-bucking, and made most of its games in that way.

In the game between Englewood and Evanston the former was victorious, 12-0. Evanston forced the ball to within two or three yards of Englewood's goal twice, but lost the leather on a fumble the first time, and on downs the second time. Excepting perhaps Teetzel, the two elevens were very evenly matched. Prather had the better of Fowler, and occasionally made a hole through his position. Englewood's tackles, Ryden and Prentiss, were weak at times, and allowed several gains to be made through them.

The game between Hyde Park and Oak Park, resulting in a victory of 16-0 to the former, was of no particular interest, as the sport was marred by disputes between the players and the umpire over slugging. There must be something radically wrong with the officials of the Cook County League. Fully half the games played so far have been marred, in some way or another, by misunderstandings between the players and the field officers.

Pell, Bien, Rice, Wiley.]

The Berkeley School team has made considerable progress within the last two weeks. Hasbrouck is putting up a strong game at left end, and is developing a good capacity for breaking into opposing interference. Both he and Boyesen are learning rapidly to get down the field after punts. Hasbrouck runs well with the ball, and is being depended upon a good deal in tricks. He is making an excellent Captain for the team, and although he does not insist quite strongly enough upon his rights against opposing teams sometimes, this is a shortcoming which will promote rather than injure the welfare of amateur sport. Boyesen is a new man to the game, and a trifle light, but he tackles splendidly and has good grit.

Huntington, who has been playing right tackle, is a trifle careless in his work; he is a powerful player, however, and runs well, and can tackle when he sets his mind on it. Granberry and Thomas have been candidates for the tackle positions; Granberry has been doing hard work and has improved steadily, but Thomas has the advantage over him in stature and physical strength. With the exception of Hasbrouck, Gilson, who plays right guard, is probably the best man in the line. He is well-developed, and is as strong a player as any in the New York League. He knows the game well, but unfortunately, owing to his class-room work, he has not been able to devote as much time to field practice as is necessary to keep him in tiptop shape. Irvine, at left guard, has been running considerably with the ball; he is better in this position than he was at tackle, where he played early in the season. One of the weakest men in the line is Walker, at centre; he has the strength, but he is very slow, and does not seem able to catch the knack of putting the ball into play properly.

The backs are putting up a higher quality of football than the line-men. They are natural athletes, and all except Rice were members of last spring's baseball team. Their experience in catching seems to stand them in good stead now. Pell has been making rapid strides in his knowledge of the game. He is a clever dodger when running with the ball, but needs to overcome a slight timidity against being tackled. He punts fairly well, and is the best drop-kicker on the team. On the offensive he plays close up to the line and breaks through well, but his eagerness sometimes leads him to run too far, thus putting himself out of the play.

The best football-player that Berkeley ever boasted is undoubtedly Bien, at full-back. He is as good a man in that position as there is in the New York League this year. He is a first-rate ground-gainer and knows the game thoroughly. He is a strong tackler; and as for kicking goals, it is asserted that he has not missed one this season. Wiley puts up a hard game, but does not use his head enough. He punts pretty well, and may be counted on to catch every ball that comes his way. He is a sandy player, and sometimes plunges too boldly into the scrimmage.

Rice at quarter can hardly be ranked on a par with the other backs. He interferes well at the kick-off, but does not keep up this standard in close plays. He is a sandy tackler, but being a new man at the game frequently wastes his energy. He is badly handicapped by his centre rush.

Considerable improvement is to be noticed in the work of the Garden City football-players. Lorraine is doing all that can be required at end. Since my last criticism of his play he has gone into the game with more vim and dash, and is playing good hard football all the time. Symonds, until the Lawrenceville game, was playing a miserable game at tackle; since then, however, he has improved greatly, particularly in defensive play.

Everett Starr is heavier than he was last year, although he is still the lightest man in the line. His experience, however, makes him as reliable a man as there is on the team. Cluett as snap-back and in attacks on the centre is first rate, but he seems to have the idea that his work ends there, as he very seldom breaks through and is slow in following the ball. Kinney is new at the game this year, but nevertheless he is playing as good football as any of the older members on the team. He is strong and exceptionally quick for his size. He makes many tackles and sure ones, is generally to be found where the ball is, and when he runs with the ball is pretty sure of making a gain.

Thus far Brown has not by any means played the game he is capable of. He has met no opponents of his own weight. He is fairly quick, and has a good knowledge of the game. With these conditions his work should be of the brilliant order, but, on the contrary, it has been even at the best mediocre, and at times lamentably weak.

White is probably the best end on any school team about New York. Very seldom is a gain made around his end, and an attempt usually results in a loss. Owing to an injury to Goldsboro, he has taken the latter's place at right half in offensive play, and has done exceptionally good work, getting down the field on kicks in good style. Goldsboro may not be able to play again this year.

Blount, who last year was only a substitute on the second eleven, is a fixture at quarter-back. He gives the signals, and is playing his position and handling the team like a veteran. The chief fault he has to overcome is in missing tackles. Weller is a good runner and a sure hard tackler. He interferes and follows interference well.

Captain Starr is showing rare form at full-back this year. He has developed into an exceptionally good punter and place-kicker; moreover, in the games with Cutler and Poly. Prep. he dropped in each a pretty goal from the field. As a line-bucker and an interferer he can be relied upon thoroughly. In defensive play he plays rush-line half-back. His work is often brilliant. Temple is a fast runner, but owing to lack of experience he has a tendency not to make the best use of his interference. This was particularly noticeable in the Poly. Prep. game. He made some good runs, but with a good end he would have been downed for a loss in nearly every case.

By the time this number of the ROUND TABLE reaches the reader the deciding game of the Connecticut League championship series will have been played, and as the match will probably be a close one I hardly dare hazard the guess that the banner will go to New Britain. The New Britain team defeated Norwich Free Academy last week to the tune of 50-0, and although Brinley was seriously injured in the game, and may not be able to play any more this season, the eleven will still be a strong one without him.

On the same day that New Britain played Norwich, Meriden H.-S. took Bridgeport into camp, 20-12. It is evident that this year the smaller schools turned out the better teams. Hillhouse, Hartford, and Bridgeport all got defeated in the race for the Yale Cup.

ANDREW T., ROCHESTER.--The "halves" in a football game may be of
any duration agreed upon beforehand. In championship games,
however, they must be thirty-five minutes each.

J. C. FINCH, FORT ANNE, NEW YORK.--See HARPER'S ROUND TABLE for
September 22, or for fuller particulars see W. H. Lewis's _A
Primer of College Football_.

"A PRIMER OF COLLEGE FOOTBALL."--BY W. H. LEWIS.--16MO, PAPER, 75 CENTS.

THE GRADUATE.

ORIGIN OF THE PLOTS OF TWO FAMOUS PLAYS.

Dr. Goldsmith took the plot of _She Stoops to Conquer_ from a joke played by a Lincolnshire gentleman named Grummit. Late one night a commercial traveller met Grummit on the road, and asked him where he might find the nearest inn. Grummit said he would gladly "show him the way to a quiet respectable house of public entertainment for man and horse." The stranger was thereupon conducted to Grummit's private residence. Everything he ordered was promptly brought him, and in the morning he asked for his bill, and was very pleasantly surprised to find he had been a private guest. Other odd deeds of kindness are related of Grummit.

_Hamlet_ is taken from the Danish history of _Amleth_, by Saxo Germanicus. It may be but a coincidence that the word "Hamlet" may be formed from "Amleth" by placing the last letter of the latter word before the former one. The story of Amleth is said to be very improbable, and that only a genius like Shakespeare would have founded a play on it. The famous "ghost" of the Shakespearian version is the bard's own invention. Amleth, having made the nobility drunk, sets fire to the palace, kills the usurping king, and is himself proclaimed ruler.

* * * * *

STARVED TO DEATH

in midst of plenty. Unfortunate, yet we hear of it. The Gail Borden Eagle Brand Condensed Milk is undoubtedly the safest and best infant food. _Infant Health_ is a valuable pamphlet for mothers. Send your address to N. Y. Condensed Milk Co., N. Y.--[_Adv._]

* * * * *

HIGH-GRADE PRESS NOVELTIES.

Bewildering display of elegance at Arnold, Constable & Co.'s store. A show of elegant and artistic articles in dress goods and materials as must surely bewilder the most hardened of shoppers is now to be seen at Arnold, Constable & Co.'s, at the corner of Broadway and Nineteenth Street. In the silk department there is so much worthy of notice that it seems almost impossible to select special samples of the wealth of beauty which has been imported recently. Satin duchesse, with gold or silver tinsel, in graceful and elegant patterns, specially adapted for dinner and reception dresses, while for street costumes the peau-de-soie material, with colorings of the new blue, new green, and lavender, will be much admired. There are some particularly striking moire antiques in water silks, handsomely brocaded in all the new tints, while a striking exhibit is the white moire antique with flower designs in satin effects, suitable for bridal costumes. This magnificent material is in grades from $2.50 to $10 a yard. A full line of moire velours in tints with gold and silver threads for evening wear is sure to command attention, while some very pretty designs in white grounds with small colored pompadour figures, very well adapted for bridesmaids' dresses, are likely to be popular. Among the velvet materials there are many novelties, most noticeable of which is perhaps the frieze velvet on chameleon ground of taffeta silk. This is an absolute innovation. White velvet figures on a light-colored brocaded groundwork is also new. A very pretty thing is the brocaded velvet with mottled spots on a colored ground, and the velvet on a glacé taffeta in all colors. Plain velvets are likely to be very popular for waists and sleeves or trimmings. In dress goods the drap d'été, in all colors, both dark and light, is an important and attractive novelty.--[_Adv._]

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