~The~ Eastern and Western champions of Canada--the Brants of

Paris, Ont., and the Shamrocks, of Montreal--met on the grounds of the

latter club, at Montreal, September 22, and played before an audience

of about 4,000 spectators. The result was three straight games for the

Shamrocks. The teams were as follows:

SHAMROCKS. POSITIONS. BRANTS.

Reddy Goal Robinson

Barry Point Whitson

Creagan Cover Point Jennings

Fraser } Defence { Whitelaw

Duggan } field { Watson

Ahern } { Skea

Devine Centre Munn

Neville } Home { Pickering

Reilly } field { J. Adams

Ellard } { D. Adams

Keefe Outside home Walker

Brown Inside home Tate

Dumphy Captain Jas. Adams

Referee--W. L. Maltby.

Umpires--Messrs. McLeod and A. W. Stevenson.

Summary of Score--First game, Shamrocks, Ellard, ½m.; second game,

Shamrocks, O’Reilly, 9m.; third game, Shamrocks, Devine, 20m.

* * * * *

~The~ tournament held at Washington Park, Brooklyn, in June, for

the championship of the Eastern Association, was hardly as successful

as it was hoped it would be. In part this was due to the day selected.

But three clubs competed--the Staten Island Athletic Club, the

Brooklyns, and the Maple Leafs, from Philadelphia. In winning first

place and the championship, and defending it successfully in several

games since, the team of the Staten Island Club--formerly the New York

Lacrosse Club--has shown that a change of name did not affect its

playing abilities.

A word regarding this change will not be out of place here. For

many years the New York Lacrosse Club had been without a home.

Notwithstanding this drawback, it struggled on. The record of its games

will show that disappointments did not dishearten the members. This

spring the opportunity of uniting with the Staten Island Athletic Club

offered and was taken advantage of. As a part of the Athletic Club it

now enjoys a home, has a suitable place for practice, and hopes in time

to surpass its previous achievements.

* * * * *

~A match~ for the Eastern District Junior Championship was won

by the Junior Shamrocks from the Crescents, at Montreal, September 22,

by three straight games. The teams were as follows:

CRESCENTS. POSITIONS. JUN. SHAMROCKS.

Mazurette Goal McKenna

Blakely Point Brophy

Murphy Cover point Dwyer

Brown First defence Driscoll

Crosby Second defence Curran

Bark Third defence McVey

Clapperton Centre Moore

McCabe Third home McBrearty

McDonnell Second home Rowan

McAnulty First home Cafferty

McCafferty Outside Tansey

Herbert Inside Lavery

F. W. McAnulty Captain Maguire

Summary of Score--First game, Junior Shamrocks, Tansey, 2m.; second

game, Junior Shamrocks, Brown, 15m.; third game, Junior Shamrocks,

Cafferty, 1m.

Messrs. Hodgson and Shanks, umpires.

W. J. Cleghorn, referee.

LAWN TENNIS.

~The~ eighth annual tournament of the United States National

Lawn Tennis Association for doubles was held on the grounds of the

Staten Island Cricket and Baseball Club, Wednesday, September 12. The

entries were not as large as in previous years, but the playing was

excellent, namely, the match between H. W. Slocum, Jr., and Foxhall

Keene against E. P. MacMullen and C. Hobart. All present were of one

opinion that it was the best double tennis ever seen in this country.

After reaching two sets all, Slocum and Keene seemed to weaken, while

their opponents played with more confidence and heart. The struggle

in the second round between 0. S. Campbell and V. G. Hall against

H. A. Taylor and J. S. Clark was noticeable for many fine rallies

and accurate placing. But the former team proved themselves too much

for the veterans, and won the match three sets to one. In the finals

great interest and excitement prevailed as Campbell and Hall were to

face Hobart and MacMullen. The day set for the match was a perfect

one, so that by three o’clock, when the referee called play, nearly

two thousand people surrounded the court. From the very first it was

apparent that Hall and Campbell had the match well in hand, while

Hobart and MacMullen played as if slightly rattled. Three games all

were called by the umpire on the first set. The playing so far had

been very even. Each team now scored another game “four all.” Hall

and Campbell, by fine serving and placing, won the next two games and

set, 6-4. The second set also fell to them, 6-2, and the third in like

manner, 6-4. The championship was over, and Hall and Campbell were

victorious.

Number of points, 179. Campbell and Hall won 102; MacMullen and Hobart,

77. Points lost by ball knocked out, Campbell and Hall, 19; MacMullen

and Hobart, 29. Points lost by putting into net, Campbell and Hall, 22;

MacMullen and Hobart, 28. Balls placed or passing opponent, Campbell

and Hall, 38; MacMullen and Hobart, 27. Following will be found the

score in full: Preliminary round, A. Torrence and H. M. Torrence,

Jr., beat M. S. Paton and C. E. Sands, 3-6, 1-6, 6-1, 7-5, 9-7; E. P.

MacMullen and C. Hobart beat W. E. Glyn and M. F. Goodbody, 6-3, 7-5,

6-0; F. V. Beach and C. H. Ludington beat J. Dwight and I. Shaw, Jr.,

by default. First round, H. A. Taylor and J. S. Clark beat A. Torrence

and H. M. Torrence, Jr., 6-3, 6-4, 6-3; V. G. Hall and 0. S. Campbell

beat C. J. Post and W. A. Tomes, 6-2, 6-1, 6-1; B. F. Cummins and E.

W. McClellan beat F. V. Beach and C. H. Ludington, 6-3, 4-6, 6-4,

7-9, 6-4; C. Hobart and E. P. MacMullen beat H. W. Slocum, Jr., and

Foxhall Keene, 6-2, 3-6, 4-6, 7-5, 6-3. Second round, V. G. Hall and

O. S. Campbell beat H. A. Taylor and J. S. Clark, 6-3, 3-6, 7-5, 6-3;

C. Hobart and E. P. MacMullen beat B. F. Cummins and E. W. McClellan,

6-2, 5-7, 6-4, 6-3. Final and championship round, V. G. Hall and 0. S.

Campbell beat C. Hobart and E. P. MacMullen, 6-4, 6-2, 6-4. Consolation

prize, Beach and Ludington beat Post and Tomes, 7-5, 6-4, 8-10, 8-10,

8-6. Second prize, Hobart and MacMullen beat Post and Tomes, 6-3, 6-3,

6-4. Taylor and Clark defaulted.

* * * * *

~A very~ pleasant and enjoyable tournament was given at Revere,

Mass., September 3d, on the club grounds of the Revere Lawn Tennis

Club. The audience was large and fashionable. The final game was won by

Mr. Kimball, over his opponent, Mr. Tutien, by a score, 6-4, 6-2.

* * * * *

~The~ fall tournament of the Staten Island Athletic Club, August

30th, was regarded by all as the best entry list and best tennis

yet seen on the grounds. Following will be found the score in full:

Preliminary round--J. Brown beat N. Morris by default; J. W. Raymond

beat W. Brown by default; J. E. Elliott beat W. A. French, 6-0, 6-0; D.

Miller beat F. W. Smith, 6-2, 3-6, 10-8; Sam. Campbell, Jr., beat A.

Williamson, 6-2, 2-6, 6-3. First round, A. H. Larkin beat S. Campbell,

0-6, 6-1, 8-6; E. P. Johnson beat W. E. Gaynor, 6-4, 6-3; W. Brown beat

M. DeGarmendia by default; B. J. Carroll beat F. A. Kellogg, 6-3, 6-5;

Raymond beat J. Johnson, 6-0, 6-4; Elliott beat Henshaw, 6-0, 6-0;

Post beat Kelly, 6-0, 6-1; Miller beat Frothingham, 6-1, 6-4. Second

round, Larkin beat Brown, 6-4, 6-0; Miller beat Johnson, 6-2, 2-6, 6-2;

Elliott beat Carroll, 6-2, 5-6, 6-3; Raymond beat Post, 6-4, 3-6, 6-2.

Third round, Elliott beat Larkin, 6-5, 6-5; Raymond beat Miller, 6-3,

6-5. Final round, Raymond beat Elliott, 6-2, 1-6, 6-1, 6-0. In the

doubles, E. P. MacMullen and C. Hobart, of the N. Y. Tennis Club, were

victorious, defeating Smith and Elliott in the final round, 6-1, 6-0,

7-5.

* * * * *

~The~ second annual invitation tournament of the New Hamburgh

Lawn Tennis Club was held Tuesday, September 18th, and following days

on the private grounds of Mrs. Swords and Mrs. Reese. The rain, which

fell heavily during the entire week, greatly interfered with the

playing. The final singles (out of twenty-four entries) was fought

between Mr. O. S. Campbell and Mr. V. G. Hall. The former won after

a long and hard struggle. Score: Campbell beat Hall, 4-6, 7-5, 7-5,

11-9. In the gentlemen’s doubles, Messrs. Campbell and Steele were

victorious, defeating the Hall brothers in the finals, 1-6, 6-2, 6-4.

Miss E. C. Roosevelt, of Poughkeepsie (well known on the tennis field),

won the ladies’ singles over Miss Anna Sands. The ladies’ doubles were

easily won by the Misses Roosevelt. The mixed doubles (which were

handicap) were won by Miss Camilla Moss and Mr. C. E. Sands.

* * * * *

~The~ annual open Lawn Tennis tournament of the New York Tennis

Club was held on their grounds at 147th Street, September 19th. The

courts are considered by many to be the finest in the country. Mr. E.

P. MacMullen won the gentlemen’s singles, and with Mr. C. Hobart as

partner, the doubles also. Ladies’ singles and mixed doubles formed the

other events. Mrs. Badgeley won the singles, and Mr. MacMullen and Miss

V. Hobart the mixed doubles. The courts were in excellent condition.

The playing was above that of last season, especially the final match

between MacMullen and Hobart.

* * * * *

~One~ of the largest tennis tournaments of the season was given

September 26th, on the grounds of the Highlands Country Club, about

five miles from Washington. The winner, Mr. Mansfield, now holds the

championship of the Southern States. Remarkably good tennis, fine

weather, and a large and fashionable attendance were the features of

the week. Space forbids giving the score in full; suffice it to say

that Fred. Mansfield, of the Longwood Club, Boston, carried off the

honors in the gentlemen’s singles by defeating D. Miller in the final

round, 6-1, 6-4, 6-2. In the gentlemen’s doubles, Mansfield was again

successful, and with his partner, F. V. Hoppin, easily defeated, in the

final round, Davidson and Metcalf, 6-2, 6-2, 3-6, 6-2.

* * * * *

~The~ Clifton Lawn Tennis Club held its annual tournament at

Fort Wadsworth, Staten Island, September 27th. As the tournament was

open to all Staten Island clubs, the Ladies’ Out-Door Sporting Club

and the Staten Island Athletic Club were well represented. Miss Austin

won in the final round of the ladies’ singles, defeating Miss Gertrude

Williams, 6-3, 1-6, 6-4, 6-1. E. W. Gould carried off the honors among

the gentlemen by defeating J. B. Johnson in the final, 6-2, 1-6, 6-1,

6-1. Very handsome prizes were given to the winners.

* * * * *

~Not~ long ago an association was formed comprising all the lawn

tennis clubs on the Hudson River, from Yonkers to Albany. The name by

which it was to be known was the Hudson River Lawn Tennis Association.

The first tournament was held on the grounds of the “Far and Near,”

at Hastings-on-the-Hudson, Sept. 25th, and proved, for a beginning, a

great success. Mr. V. G. Hall, of the Edgwood Club, won the handsome

silver pitcher, valued at $200, which will become his property by

winning it twice. In the gentlemen’s doubles, V. G. Hall and his

brother, E. L. Hall, were winners, defeating C. E. and R. C. Sands in

the finals score, 6-4, 2-6, 3-6, 6-5, 6-3. Miss E. C. Roosevelt won

the ladies’ singles, and with her sister Grace, the doubles also. The

mixed doubles were won by Mr. C. E. Sands and Miss E. Roosevelt. In

all probability, the next meeting, which is to take place some time in

June, 1889, will be on the Newburgh courts.

QUOITS.

~A match~ was played at Montreal, September 22, for the

championship of the Dominion, on the Montreal Quoiting Club’s grounds,

and resulted in a victory for the home club over the Dominion Club by

65 points. The following are the teams, with the individual scores:

DOMINION CLUB. MONTREAL CLUB.

1. G. Fleet 23 A. McIntyre 31

2. J. Ganley 5 J. Graham 31

3. J. Briggs 10 J. J. Elliott 31

4. X. Desrochers 31 J. Williams 27

5. L. E. Farrar 26 G. Sibley 31

6. A. Tattersall 31 J. Leduc 12

7. M. Bannan 7 A. Lindsay 31

8. A. Weir 26 W. Renshaw 31

9. H. Oram 31 W. Ogilvie 20

10. R. Waugh 28 H. Trepannier 31

11. J. Cuthbert 31 A. Loiseau 15

12. W. J. Stewart 8 J. J. Adams 31

--- ---

257 322

ROWING.

~The~ Atalanta Boat Club held its fortieth annual regatta on the

Harlem, September 15. It was also Ladies’ Day. The club-house at One

Hundred and Fifty-third Street was crowded with guests. No time was

kept of the different contests, which were very exciting. The following

is the result of the races, and the names of the men who took part in

them:

Junior single shells--Entries: George B. Weed, William D. Bourne,

William C. Dilger, Edward W. Tanner and Alexander Woods. William D.

Bourne won.

Senior single gigs, for gold medal given by Captain Theodore Van Raden;

distance, one mile--Entries: Max Lau, William Lau, George R. Storms and

Benjamin A. Jackson. Max Lau won.

Four-oared shells--Entries: No. 1, W. E. Cody, bow; S. B. Marks, P.

B. Reyhmer, J. A. Garland, stroke. No. 2, W. C. Doscher, bow; A. G.

Roemer, C. A. Hawley, W. Content, stroke. No. 3, E. J. Stewart, bow; D.

Van Holland, W. Dittmar, Jr., H. A. McLean, stroke. No. 2 won.

Eight-oared barge race--Entries were, No. 1, married, William C.

Dilger, bow; G. M. Young, William Dittmar, D. Van Holland, E. J.

Cullen, H. M. Williams, T. McAdam, W. Dittmar, Jr., stroke, and H.

Hazard, coxswain. No. 2, single, C. F. Beyer, bow; E. McCormack, F.

H. S. Cooley, F. A. Merrill, W. J. Davenport, A. J. Wallace, S. A.

Saffard, E. Fuchs, stroke, and H. Moody, coxswain. The race was a

close, pretty and interesting one, and resulted in a victory for the

married men.

Eight-oared shells--Entries: No. 1, F. McElroy, bow; E. J. Allen, E.

D. McMurray, D. Brown, H. D. Clapp, W. B. Merrall, L. F. Roediger, B.

A. Jackson, stroke; E. P. K. Coffin, coxswain. No. 2, W. H. Chandler,

bow; T. G. Smith, E. J. Ranhoffer, I. D. Fairchild, F. Pullman, W. J.

Winter, J. A. Miller, O. Fuchs, stroke; J. E. Silliman, coxswain. No.

3, C. Renner, bow; W. J. Hutchinson, E. R. Bunce, W. F. Mohr, G. R.

Pasco, G. Radley, W. D. Stewart, E. H. Patterson, stroke, and E. J.

Byrne, coxswain. This race differed from the others in that it was over

a straightaway mile course. No. 1 won.

* * * * *

~The~ fourth annual regatta of the Nautilus Boat Club took place

September 15. The course was from the Sea Beach dock, at Bay Ridge,

toward the Atlantic Yacht Club basin. Distance, with a turn, about

three-fourths of a mile.

The junior single-gig race, class A, with five entries, was rowed in

two trial heats. Johnson won first heat--time, 5m. 24s. Olsen, second

heat, 5m. 29s. The final heat was won by Olsen; time, 5m. 6s.

The junior single-gig race, class B. Nine entries. First trial heat won

by W. Reid; time, 5m. 21s. Second trial heat, S. H. Ayres; time, 5m.

27s. Third trial heat, S. Manley; time, 5m. 44s. The final heat was won

by Ayres in 5m. 24s.; Manley second.

The junior double-scull gig was won by Oswald and Peterson; time, 5m.

The senior double-scull gig was won by F. Olsen and M. Donally; time,

4m. 45s. Their only competitors, the two Hillmans, were only a half

length behind at the finish.

The single-gig match, between W. A. Merrick and T. F. Crean, was won by

the latter. Time, 5m. 41s.

Two crews entered for the junior four-oared gig race. The crew composed

by W. Charnley, T. F. Crean, A. T. Morro and A. Ribas, with W. Whitner

as coxswain, won by a boat’s length, in 4m. 5s.

The eight-oared barge race was won by Captain Donnelly’s crew, made

up as follows: Fred Olsen, bow; J. O’Conner, second; J. D. Phillips,

third; A. N. Peterson, fourth; S. Manley, fifth; M. W. Mullany, sixth;

R. Hillmon, seventh; M. Donaly, stroke, and C. W. Parmlee, coxswain,

were the winning crew by two boat-lengths; time, 4m. 54s.

* * * * *

~A popular~ subscription has been started by the Cornell _Era_

to raise money to put an eight-oar crew on the water next season. A

Cornell crew in the seventies showed all the college crews the way to

victory.

SHOOTING.

~The~ annual contest for State trophies of the Massachusetts

Volunteer Militia took place at South Framingham, Sept. 25. The

contests were open to teams of seven men each from each county, and the

staff teams were five each. There were two prizes for staff officers,

three for line officers, and three for enlisted men, besides the three

team prizes. Two scores of seven shots each, contestants shooting in

teams count that score and then shoot an additional one.

Staff Team Prize--Staff 2d Brigade, 1st, 136; Staff 5th Infantry, 2d,

136; Staff 1st Brigade, 3d, 135.

Staff Officers--Capt. J. B. Osborne, 1st Brigade, 60; Lieut. R. B.

Edes, 5th Infantry, 60.

Line Officers--Lieut. E. B. C. Erickson, 5th Infantry, 61; Lieut. C.

N. Edgell, 2d Infantry, 60; Capt. Williamson, 1st Infantry, 58.

Company Team Match--Compy. B, 2d Infantry, 200; Compy. C, 2d Cadets,

198; Compy. F, 2d Infantry, 194.

* * * * *

~The~ National Rifle Association of America held their annual

meeting at Creedmoor in September. The attendance was smaller than

last year--in fact, it seems to grow smaller every year. The shooting

was, on the whole, good. Sergt. T. J. Dolan, 12th N. Y., made the fine

score of 50 points at 200 and 500 yards, 5 shots at each range, making

the possible 25 points at both, a feat that has never before been

equaled on the range. Both his scores were made on the same day. Capt.

Barnard Walther, of the renowned Zettler Club, of New York City, again

carried off the first prize in the Tiffany Match, this being the second

consecutive year he has won the cup. The Massachusetts State Team again

won the Inter-state and Hilton trophies, being the third consecutive

year that they have accomplished this. Major C. W. Hinman, of Boston,

won the Governor’s Match at 50 yards. Sergt.-Major W. M. Merrill, of

Boston, won the Wimbledon Cup at 1,000 yards. Sergt. Geo. Doyle, Corps

of Engineers, U. S. A., won the President’s Match, which carries with

it the title of Champion Military Rifle Shot of the U. S. A. for the

coming year. Sergt. Fred. Wells, 22d N. Y., made the same number of

points, but was outranked. Sergt. Wells won the first stage and prize

of $20. The Zettler Rifle Club, of New York City, won the Short Range

Team Match. The winners and matches were as follows:

Director’s Match (5 shots, 200 yards)--James Duane, 23.

Wimbledon Cup (30 shots, 1,000 yards)--Sergt. W. M. Merrill, 134; F. H.

Holton, 125; W. F. Mayer, 117; I. F. McNevin, 116; C. H. Gaus, 103; T.

J. Dolan, 79.

Judd Match (at 200 yards--two scores of five shots each to count

for first five prizes. For remainder of prizes, one single score;

each contestant to shoot six strings, three each day. Twenty-five

prizes)--T. J. Dolan, 1st; T. G. Austen, 2d; D. H. Ogden, 3d; W. G.

Hussey, 4th; W. C. Johnston, 5th. The first three prizes were won with

the Remington 50 cal. rifle, which received two points allowance on ten

shots.

The Long Range Military Match (10 shots at 800, 900 and 1,000

yards)--Jas. McNevins, 114; C. W. Hinman, 112; W. M. Merrill, 111; A.

B. Van Heusen, 110.

President’s Match (first stage at 200 and 500 yards)--F. A. Wells,

1st, 67. The 22 men who won prizes in the first stage were eligible to

shoot at 600 yards, 10 shots each, and the man making the highest total

at 200, 500 and 600, won the prize of $25 and the title of Military

Champion. Sergt. Doyle (total of both stages), 109; F. A. Wells, 109;

T. J. Dolan, 107. T. J. Dolan was the winner last year.

Short Range Team Match (American standard target, 200 yards

off-hand)--Zettler Rifle Club--B. Walther, 84; M. Dorrler, 83; L.

Flack, 73; C. S. Zettler, 52--total, 292.

Second Regiment Team, Massachusetts Volunteer Militia--W. M. Farrow,

77; M. W. Bull, 70; S. S. Bumstead, 65; F. R. Bull, 59; allowance,

16--total, 287. This team used military rifles and received 4 points

allowance per man.

Lynn Rifle Association, Lynn, Mass.--W. G. Hussey, 73; W. C. Johnston,

70; C. W. Hinman, 67; R. B. Eades, 55; allowance, 12--total, 277. All

used military rifles except Hinman.

Nyack Rifle Club, Nyack, N. Y.--J. J. Sydecker, 64; G. McAucliffe, 59;

D. Shakespear, 59; J. O. Davidson, 53--total, 245.

New York State National Guard Match--Regimental Team Match (at 200

and 500 yards)--23d Regiment Team, 1st, 521; 12th Regiment Team, 482;

7th, 495; 13th, 484; 22d, 451. 1st Brigade, National Guard Match--7th

Regiment Team, 572; 12th, 485; 2d, 441. 2d Brigade--23d Regiment Team,

509; 13th, 457.

The Inter-State Match had only New York and Massachusetts State teams

entered (12 men, 10 shots each, at 200 and 500 yards)--Massachusetts

State Team, 1,047; New York State Team, 1,015.

Hilton Trophy--open to State teams and teams from the divisions of

the regular army (7 shots each at 200, 500 and 600 yards, 12 men each

team)--Massachusetts Team, 1,080; Division of the Atlantic Team, 1,057;

New York Team, 1,057.

Governor’s Match (three scores to count at 500 yards each, shooter to

shoot as many entries as he pleases)--Major C. W. Hinman, Boston, 1st;

Capt. J. B. Osborn, Boston, 2d.

Tiffany Match (200 yards)--B. Walther, 1st; T. J. Dolan, 2d; W. M.

Farrow, 3d.

Stewart Match (200 yards, standing, sitting or kneeling)--J. F. Klein,

1st; Geo. Doyle, 2d; W. M. Farrow, 3d; W. G. Hussey, 4th; C. L. Potter,

5th; J. S. Shepherd, 6th; C. H. Gaus, 7th; C. A. Jones, 8th; J. D.

Foot, 9th.

All Comers and Marksman Badge (25 at 200 and 25 at 500)--T. J. Dolan,

1st.

Revolver Match--Ira A. Paine, 140; A. Brennor, 132; J. G. Newbury, 123;

G. L. Garrigues, 122; W. E. Petty, 120; W. C. Johnston, Jr., 119; F. J.

H. Merrill, 114; C. H. Gaus, 113; W. M. Merrill, 113; J. E. Winslow,

111. Among the noted visitors present during the week were Herr Josef

Schuloff, the inventor of the magazine rifle and revolver, Col. Bodine,

Col. Miller, Major Shorkley, and other well-known rifle-shots.

* * * * *

~The~ eighth annual tournament of the Western Rifle Association

was held recently at Fort Snelling, Minn. It was successful as far as

shooting is concerned. The following are the summaries:

THE CHICAGO MATCH (10 SHOTS).

200 YDS. 300 YDS. 600 YDS. TOTAL.

E. W. Bird 45 43 48 136

C. Mandlin 46 47 43 136

C. W. Skinner 48 42 43 133

DEER HUNTER MATCH (10 SHOTS, AMERICAN FIELD TARGET).

100 YDS. 200 YDS. TOTAL.

John Marshall 81 65 146

E. W. Bird 70 71 141

Pistol or Revolver Match (15 shots at 30 yards)--C. M. Skinner, 135; A.

E. Chantler, 117; S. M. Tyrrell, 105.

Minneapolis _Tribune_ Match (15 shots at 200, 500 and 600 yards)--C. W.

Weeks, 275; John Marshall, 272.

Minneapolis Match (shot on new decimal target adopted by Minneapolis

Rifle Club--15 shots at 500 and 600 yards)--E. W. Bird, gold badge,

225; A. F. Elliott, deer’s head, 224; John Marshall, silver card-tray,

216.

Police Revolver Match (50 yards, 20 shots each)--C. M. Skinner, 151;

S. M. Tyrrell, 127; E. W. Bird, 126; A. S. Chantler, 118; C. W. Weeks,

117. This was shot on the American field target. C. Mandlin, of

Minneapolis, won the Continuous Match at 200 yards off-hand.

* * * * *

~Mr. Fred. E. Bennett~, of Boston, the champion revolver shot

of America, has been doing some fine shooting at 50 yards, using a 22

calibre pistol. In 100 consecutive shots he made the following fine

totals: 97, 95, 90, 85, 89, 91, 93, 89, 86, 91--total, 906, out of a

possible 1,000. Mr. Bennett has issued a challenge to shoot a revolver

match with Ira Paine for $1,000 a side, either in France, England, or

America.

* * * * *

~The~ experts at the National Armory, at Springfield, Mass., are

trying a new ammunition with a view to the adoption of a small calibre

rifle. The experiments made so far demonstrate that the Swiss rifle,

which is of a small calibre (about .30), has a very flat trajectory at

500 yards, and is accurate; while the Springfield, or U. S. Government

rifle has a very high trajectory. Further experiments will be made

before anything definite is done.

* * * * *

~A new~ rifle club has been organized in Newark, N. J. Its

officers are William Dennenger, president; F. Kraus, vice-president;

William Doull, secretary; K. Kopf, treasurer; F. Siegman,

sergeant-at-arms.

YACHTING.

~A dozen~ pretty cat-rigged yachts, manned by jolly crews from

Brooklyn, Canarsie and Ruffle Bar, sailed a very exciting race on

Jamaica Bay, Saturday, September 23. It was the second of the series

inaugurated by the Windward Club of Ruffle Bar, and the result has

decided that Mr. Hatch’s pretty _Julita_, built three years ago by Dick

Wallin, of South Brooklyn, is the fastest boat in the first class, for

she has won both races, and so takes the prize of the Windward Cup,

offered by the club.

* * * * *

~The~ Yorkville Yacht Club had its twice postponed fall races

September 23. There was a lack of wind in the forenoon. In the

afternoon the yachts started from Oak Point against a light wind and

with a strong flood tide. Both wind and tide were with them on the

return. Classes A, B and C sailed around the gangway buoy and return,

a distance of twenty miles. The other classes rounded the Stepping

Stones Lighthouse, making fifteen miles. In class A, for cabin sloops

more than 30 feet, D. McGlynn’s _Emma and Alice_ was the only entry.

She made the distance in 5 hours 15 minutes 15 seconds. _Maud M._,

manned by Sergeant McManus and a crew of 14 men from Fort Schuyler, had

a walk over in the class for cabin boats under 30 feet. Her time was 5

hours 18 minutes 45 seconds. She broke her spinnaker on the return. J.

Thomson’s _Bessie R._ was the only catboat between 17 and 22 feet, and

she sailed the 15 miles in 5 hours 3 minutes 30 seconds. The _Jessie_

was successful in her class, and the _Happy Thought_ won handily in the

race for smaller catboats. The _Peerless_, the _Jennie V._, and the

_Helen_ did not finish.

* * * * *

~The~ Fall Regatta of the New York Yacht Club took place

September 20. The day was all that could be desired by the most ardent

yachtsman.

At 11h. 32m. the Blue Peter was lowered on the _Electra’s_ foremast and

the signal gun started the racers. _Fannie_, under mainsail and jib,

with the wind on the starboard quarter, rushed for the line, with the

_Dauntless_ a little to windward and the _Katrina_ almost bow and bow.

As they darted past the flagship the _Dauntless_ hauled a little closer

by the wind and shot ahead of the other two yachts, the _Katrina_

passing within a few feet of the _Electra’s_ lee side. The three went

over almost in line and made one of the handsomest marine pictures ever

seen in New York harbor. The _Dauntless_ held the lead for a short

distance, but the _Katrina_ soon forged ahead. After these three the

_Alarm_ came slowly by as stiff as a house, but a little faster. Then

followed the _Shamrock_, with her baby jibtopsail in stops, which were

broken as she crossed the line, and the _Adelaide_, heeling well to

leeward. The _Grayling_, with every sail set and as full as a balloon,

rushed across in her dashing style. The _Wizard_ followed after her

with a handicap of 3 minutes, and then the _Magic_, also handicapped

12m. 57s.

The yachts had a beat to the lightship and were forced to make a long

and short leg to weather the buoys, which had to be passed on the port

hand. The _Katrina_ and _Shamrock_ seemed to point about the same and

were both pinched very closely. The former was the first to go on

port tack, at 12h. 35m., followed by the _Shamrock_ one minute after.

The _Grayling_ held to the starboard tack longer than either of the

sloops and gained very much in so doing, for she rounded the Sandy Hook

Lightship almost the same moment as the _Shamrock_. Following are the

times:

H. M. S.

Katrina 12 40 05

Shamrock 12 45 30

Grayling 12 45 35

In the run from the start to the lightship the _Katrina_ gained 1m.

13s. on the _Shamrock_. That from the lightship to the stake boat was

a reach by the wind on the port tack. When the yachts reached the

_Haviland_ the _Katrina_ was still in the lead, though she had lost

45 seconds to the _Shamrock_, who had in turn gained 2 minutes on the

_Grayling_. The _Dauntless_ was leading the _Fanny_ at this point, and

the _Adelaide_ the _Wizard_. At the stake-boat the following times were

taken:

H. M. S.

Katrina 1 26 40

Shamrock 1 32 60

Grayling 1 34 55

The yachts passed the _Haviland_ on the port hand, easing off sheets

and running again for the lightship with the wind on the starboard

quarter. They rounded the lightship a second time as follows:

H. M. S.

Katrina 2 10 05

Shamrock 2 15 08

Grayling 2 15 42

In this run the _Katrina_ lost 22 seconds to the _Shamrock_, who gained

1 minute on the _Grayling_.

From Sandy Hook Lightship it was a run with the wind on the port beam

to the finish. The sloops set their club topsails over working ones

and made a fast run home. The _Katrina_ held the lead to the end, but

lost on time allowance. The wind was a steady wholesale breeze from the

south-southwest, and remained so throughout the day.

The following is the elapsed and corrected time:

KEEL SCHOONERS.

_Elapsed._ _Corr’d_

_Start._ _Finish._ _Time._ _Time._

H. M. S. H. M. S. H. M. S. H. M. S.

Dauntless 11 34 14 3 22 24 3 48 10 3 48 10

Alarm 11 35 22 3 45 26 4 10 04 [*]

CLASS 3--SCHOONERS.

Grayling 11 40 55 3 10 35 3 29 40 3 29 40

Magic 11 42 00 3 42 03 4 02 03 3 59 22

CLASS 2--SLOOPS.

Shamrock 11 38 35 3 11 44 3 33 09 3 31 59

Katrina 11 34 23 3 08 13 3 33 50 3 33 50

Fanny 11 34 14 3 36 00 3 57 09 3 54 10

CLASS 4--SLOOPS.

Adelaide 11 40 06 3 55 38 4 15 32[*]

Wizard 11 42 00 Did not finish.

[*] Not measured.

Thus in the keel schooner class the _Dauntless_ beats the _Alarm_.

In class 3 the _Grayling_ beats the _Magic_ 29m. 42s. and makes

the quickest time over the course. In the second class sloops the

_Shamrock_ beats the _Katrina_ 1m. 51s., and the _Adelaide_ has a walk

over in class 4, the _Wizard_ having carried away her topmast.

* * * * *

~A new~ yacht club was recently organized in this city. It will

be known as the Rockaway Yacht Club. The certificate of incorporation

was signed Sept. 17.

* * * * *

~Can~ any of our readers inform us what has become of the

following clubs, and what are their present addresses?

~Cycling~--Weston Wheelmen, Weston, Ohio; Worcester Bicycle

Club, Worcester, Mass.; Wayside Wheelmen, Brooklyn, L. I.

~Canoe~--Mystic Canoe Club, Winchester, Conn.; Stillwater

Canoe Club, Stillwater, Ohio.

~Rowing~--New England Amateur Rowing Association, Boston,

Mass.; Long Island Amateur Rowing Association, Brooklyn.

~Shooting~--Memphis Gun Club, Shell Lake, Ark.; Jacksonville

Gun Club, Jacksonville, Ky.; Frelinghuysen Rifle Club, New York

City; Krutland Ionia Hunting Club, Grand Rapids, Mich.

~Yachting~--Bohemian Yacht Club, San Francisco, Cal.

ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.

[_This department of_ ~Outing~ _is devoted to answers to

correspondents seeking information on subjects appertaining to all

sports._]

* * * * *

_Yachtsman, Chesapeake Bay Y. C._--You cannot do better than have your

boat furnished by Messrs. Warren, Ward & Co., 6 and 8 East 20th St., N.

Y. City. Commodore Gerry had his steam yacht _Electra_ fitted by this

firm, and the results are admirable. The best refrigerator for a yacht

is made by W. Law, 324 East 122d Street, City.

* * * * *

_J. Dixon, New York City._--We are able to give you the information you

require as to your proposed cycling trip from West Troy to Buffalo. (1)

You would be allowed to ride on the tow-path of the canal. (2) The road

is not good. (3) The distance is about 325 miles. (4) On the road you

should average from forty to sixty miles, but on the tow-path you would

not do more than about twenty-five miles a day. You would also have to

dismount often on account of mule teams, etc. These animals have been

known to jump into the canal at the sight of a bicycle, thereby causing

trouble between canal boat men and cycler, much to the disadvantage

of the latter. We should strongly advise you to take the main road,

and follow the route in the New York Road Book. (5) As to your last

question, we think that you had better use your own judgment.

* * * * *

_Observer._--The best position in which to place a registering

thermometer is over an open grass-plot. If this cannot be done, a

wall may be used, care being taken that it is a garden-wall, and not

the wall of a house; also that the screen in which the thermometer is

placed hangs at some distance from the wall, so as to admit of the free

passage of air behind it. In all cases the thermometer should be placed

in a screen not less than four feet from the ground, and facing to the

north (in the northern hemisphere) and sheltered from the sun at all

hours, but exposed to a free circulation of the air.

* * * * *

_Drag-Hunter, Boston, Mass._--The best drag for hounds is generally

supposed to be a common red herring. Assafœtida is sometimes used,

and also aniseed. Many people suppose, however, that the last is

detrimental to hounds, but drag-hunting of any description will spoil a

pack for fox, so that that question does not matter much.

* * * * *

_T. G. F., Portland, Oregon._--Your description and sketch of the fish

caught on a branch of the Columbia River, in Washington Territory,

and which you supposed to be a “grayling,” was so imperfect that it

was hard to give you an answer. We referred it to Dr. Tarleton H.

Bean, of the Smithsonian Institution, one of the highest authorities

on ichthyology in the country. It would have been a matter of great

interest had the grayling been found in that region. It seems, however,

that it is only another instance of the confusion which arises from

local nomenclatures. Dr. Bean’s reply sets the matter at rest, and

is so interesting that we publish it in full. He writes: “The sketch

sent is intended to represent Williamson’s whitefish (_Coregonus

Williamsoni_), which is called ‘grayling’ in some parts of the West.

I do not know of the existence of a grayling west of Montana, until

British America is reached. Williamson’s whitefish is common in the

region west of the Rocky Mountains, particularly so in the Sierra

Nevada, and is often styled ‘grayling.’”

* * * * *

_B. J. W., Albany, N. Y._--Yes. An amateur athlete may compete with a

professional, provided that it is a genuinely friendly contest, but not

for money or prizes, or at a public meeting.

* * * * *

_Scott, Montreal, Canada._--The best way to preserve gut leaders is to

wrap them up in wash-leather, tightly bound with string. If they are in

good condition, they will keep well like this for years.

* * * * *

_J. S. M., East 56th Street, N. Y. City._--What you heard is quite

true, although you appear to doubt it so much. The “King of Dudes,”

Berry Wall, was at one time quite an athlete, and about seven or eight

years ago was one of the fastest amateur walkers in the country. His

record for a mile was 7m. 20s.

* * * * *

_J. A. I., Phila._--E. Waters & Sons, of Troy, New York, are builders

of paper boats. The name was incorrectly given in the September

~Outing~.

* * * * *

_Duck Hunter, Charles City, Va._--You can obtain such rubber goods as

you mention from the Hodgman Rubber Company, 459 and 461, Broadway, New

York.

* * * * *

_Jock, Dayton, Ohio._--The race called “The Oaks” is run on the Friday

following Derby Day. It is for three-year-old fillies, and the distance

is about a mile and a half, over the same course as the Derby. Both

races were founded by the twelfth Earl of Derby--the first Oaks being

run on May 14, 1779, and being named after his residence at Woodman

Sterne, while the first Derby was run in the next year. The Derby

course was at first a mile, but has since been altered.

* * * * *

_Double Team, Albany, N. Y._--To the best of our knowledge there is no

better treatment for thrush in horses than the old method of frequently

dressing the affected feet with tar, spread on tow. This should be

well thrust into the cleft of the frog. Carbolic acid is also used in

the same way, while in severe cases, where lameness is occasioned, it

becomes necessary to use poultices.

* * * * *

_Pointer, Lynchburg, Va._--The question whether or not to remove

a puppy’s dew-claws, is more a matter of fashion and opinion than

anything else. As a matter of fact, the presence of dew-claws seems

very seldom to lead to any inconvenience to a dog. There does not,

however, seem to be any real objection to the removal of them, for

the attachment is usually only ligamentous; or, if bone does exist,

it is so slight that the operation of cutting them does not amount to

anything.

* * * * *

_Sportsman, Brooklyn._--President Cleveland’s bluefishing trip was

not the first angling expedition he had made during his presidential

career, for last year he went up to the Adirondacks for trout-fishing.

It will be remembered that his predecessor, President Arthur, was also

an enthusiastic angler.

* * * * *

_Whip, Fifty-ninth Street, N. Y._--What you say is quite true as to

the difficulty in procuring good, lasting gloves for rough work like

driving. There is, however, a capital article for your purpose, or,

indeed, for any purpose, manufactured by J. C. Hutchinson, Johnstown,

N. Y. This maker’s gloves will, we think, give you satisfaction.

* * * * *

_H. S. P., Newark, N. J._--If the horse has completely “broken down,”

the fetlock joint will actually touch the ground. From your description

this does not seem to be the case, and so the accident probably only

amounts to a partial breakdown, due to the rupture of the flexor tendon

and some of its ligamentous fibres. As to treatment, you had better

consult a veterinary surgeon, but after the first severity of the

inflammation has subsided, it is generally thought best to fire the leg.

* * * * *

_Housewife, Baltimore, Md._--Truly your questions are hardly in

~Outing’s~ line, but we can answer them. It is very hard to beat

that most reliable article, the Royal Baking Powder; you will see from

the company’s advertisement what testimonials it receives from sources

absolutely trustworthy. As to your second question, we cannot do better

than refer you to the Quarterly published by Messrs. Strawbridge &

Clothier, Eighth and Market Streets, Philadelphia. In this useful

publication you will find on page 148 just the information you want.

* * * * *

_Racquet, Toronto._--You are quite right in supposing that tennis

proper, or court tennis, has seen much palmier days. It is said that in

the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries there were a couple of hundred

courts in England, of which fourteen were in London, while Henry VIII.

built one at Hampton Court Palace. No revival of this aristocratic game

took place till this century. In 1838 one was built at Lord’s Cricket

Ground, London. Now there are, we believe, three in London, one each

at Oxford and Cambridge, while there are five other public or club

courts in England, at Manchester, Brighton, Leamington, Crayley near

Winchester, and Hampton Court. Besides these there are about as many

private ones.

* * * * *

_Capt. C., Minneapolis._--In England linseed oil is never used in

hunting stables, except as a purgative, or, mixed with tobacco dust

(about three-quarters of an ounce of the latter to three-quarters of a

pint of the former) as a drench for worms. To hacks and harness horses

linseed oil is sometimes given in small quantities to make their coats

look better. The seed itself is given to hunters after a day’s work,

either in the form of linseed tea (a substitute for oatmeal gruel), or

when boiled to a jelly and mixed with a bran mash. About two pounds

of linseed is the quantity for either preparation. Linseed jelly is

often mixed with oats when it is desired to put flesh on horses in poor

condition, or when getting them up for sale. It is a demulcent, and

slightly laxative.

[Illustration: A PAIR OF POACHERS.]

~Outing.~

~Vol. XIII.~ DECEMBER, 1888. ~No. 3.~

[Illustration]

SPORT--PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE.

BY ALEXANDER HUNTER.

It may be a pleasant task for the sporting antiquary or the historian

of some future period to trace the rise and fall of shooting in the

section where the Potomac bursts foaming through its narrow bed at the

Great Falls to Point Lookout, where the wide, majestic river mixes

its fresh waters with the brine of Chesapeake Bay. But retrospection

only brings sadness and regret to the sportsman of to-day, who sees

the finest shooting-ground for wild fowl on the American continent now

denuded of its game, except in scantiest quantities.

_Potomac_ in the Indian dialect signifies “The River of Swans.” A

pleasure or health seeker as he passes down the bay _en route_ to Old

Point, or a tourist on a pilgrimage to Mount Vernon, admires from the

steamer’s deck the fine scenery, the bold headlands, the sweeping

curves of the shore, and the ever-shifting scenes of the beautiful

river, but he will never catch a glimpse, in a lifetime’s travel, of

the stately birds that were so plentiful that the river was named after

them.

All the observant traveler now sees is the settling of, perhaps, a

dozen broad-bills in the water, or the alighting of a solitary shuffler

or mallard. He will learn with surprise that not many years back the

steamer literally ploughed its way through vast flocks of ducks, who

only took wing when the sharp prow was within a few yards of them,

while every creek, stream and run that poured its waters into the river

was alive with waterfowl of a dozen different species, scurrying to and

fro, circling high into the air, or striking into their native element

with an explosive splash. On a windy day the river was so black with

them that the bosom of the deep seemed to have been changed into an

undulating, many-hued meadow.

Across the river from Mount Vernon was one of the most famous ducking

blinds on the Potomac. The steamboat passengers notice with curiosity

what appears to be a small island directly in the centre of the river,

which at this point is about two miles wide. It is a miniature Loch

Leven Castle, and the ruins of a small stone edifice makes it a

romantic picture in the varied panorama that unfolds as one passes

down the “River of Swans.” Right across on the Maryland side is one

of those old colonial brick houses that tell of days when his Majesty

was “prayed for” by fox-hunting parsons, and where the King’s health

was drunk before each toast by the cocked-hat gentry. The house, which

stands on a high hill, and faces Mount Vernon across the river, is the

manor-seat of the Chapmans, a family whose name is connected with every

public enterprise or “high emprise” from the conversion of the colony

of Maryland into a commonwealth.

[Illustration: The Willet

Ox Eyes]

General John Chapman was a great lover of both rod and gun, and some

thirty years ago he conceived the idea of making comfort and sport go

hand in hand. Having made his soundings, he kept his slaves steadily

at work, during odd days and off hours, hauling rocks in flat-boats,

and dumping them into the rolling river. He kept his own counsel, and

his neighbors began to fear he was going crazy. At last his island

was completed. Like the Old Point “Rip-Raps,” it arose sheer from

the water, and was composed entirely of loose rock. Chapman Island,

as it was called, had an area of about a quarter of an acre, and was

shaped like a cigar--the smaller end gradually decreasing in height

and breadth until the narrowing ledge disappeared in the water.

At this point the decoys--rarely under a hundred, often double

that number--were placed. At the large end of the island was the

hunting-lodge, at a distance of about seventy-five yards. It was built

low, but the walls were thick, and a coal stove kept it comfortable

in the stormiest, coldest days. It is doubtful whether there ever was

a blind in all America that surpassed in attractions this artificial

island.

Ducks, as a general thing, when moving in great numbers, choose the

middle of a river, and seeing a large flock (the decoys) floating near

the point, they would invariably swirl aside and join them. At a time

when the river was full of waterfowl, some idea may be had of the

royal sport, without any terrible exposure and endurance; a warm fire,

refreshments of all kinds within a minute’s walk, and the ducks raining

down in a ceaseless stream from the sky--that was the very poetry of

sporting.

In the fall and winter months General Chapman had his house filled with

the men whose names are household words in America, and his oyster

roasts, canvasback and terrapin stews were as widely known then as were

the dinners of the great lobbyist and gourmand, Sam Ward, a quarter of

a century afterwards.

From the traditions handed down, it is known that General Washington

was an enthusiastic rider after hounds, and it was at one of the meets

that he first met Mistress Betty Custis; but he never was a devotee of

the gun. There are several letters written by him to his patron, Lord

Fairfax, of Greenway Court, which are, or were a few years ago, in the

possession of Mrs. Custis, of Williamsburg, Virginia. In them the young

surveyor tells in glowing language of the fine runs he has had and the

brushes he has taken.

Opportunity makes the right man; but for the Revolution, George

Washington, of Mount Vernon, Virginia, would have been a hard-riding

fox-hunter, a shrewd bargainer at a horse-trade, and a vestryman of the

Pohick church.

Washington’s nearest neighbor was famous George Mason, whose statue

adorns Capitol Square in Richmond, Va. He lived a few miles down the

river at Gunston Hall, which, next to Greenway Court, was in its day

the most celebrated hunting resort in Virginia, and was the scene of

many a glorious meet long after girder, rafter and roof of Greenway

Court had mouldered in the dust.

[Illustration: ON THE BANKS OF THE POTOMAC.]

Gunston Hall of to-day is the same building as that of over a century

ago. It was built for comfort and not for show, for the walls are very

thick, making the rooms warm in winter and cool in summer. It was

erected in 1739, and every brick was brought from England as ballast.

The plantation originally comprised 5,000 acres, and was, without

exception, the finest game preserve in the country. Colonel Mason was

an ardent sportsman, and cherished and protected the game on his land.

At his river front the wild celery grew in the greatest profusion. If

those old walls of Gunston Hall could talk, what entrancing tales they

could tell of men of iron mould and giant minds, and maidens “passing

faire”! There is a porch around the ancient mansion, religiously

preserved, though it is in the last stages of dilapidation, where

on the south side of the hall Washington and Mason were wont to sit

during the long summer evenings, their senses lulled by the fairy-like

scene, their eyes ranging over the grand, circling sweep of the river,

and their conversation freshened by many a decoction of pounded ice,

fresh mint, and Jamaica brandy. By the way, there are comparatively

few people who ever tasted a real Virginia mint julep. The decoction,

hastily mixed and as hastily drunk, is called a julep. Bacchus, save

the mark! It is as different from the royal mint julep as corn whisky

from the imperial cognac. It does not take five minutes, an hour, or

a day to properly brew this wonderful drink, but a year at the very

least. Here is the way Colonel Bob Allen, of Curl’s Neck, on the James

River, used to prepare the julep. In the early spring, gather the young

and tender mint, have your demijohn three-quarters full of the best

whisky, and into its mouth drop the mint, rolled into little balls, and

well bruised--about a quarter of a peck, loosely heaped up, to each

gallon of liquor. Next, enough loaf sugar is saturated in water to melt

it, and sweeten the whisky _ad lib_. This fills the demijohn, which is

then sealed tight, and kept for the future, being rarely opened for at

least two years.

The preparation of the drink is simple, and yet artistic. First, a

julep ought never to be mixed but in a silver flagon--there is such a

thing as a “perfect accord.” The demijohn being opened, the fragrant

liquor is poured into the mug, with a double handful of _crushed_

ice--not pounded, but crushed until it is like hail or snow ice--(a

stout towel and a few blows against a brick wall will accomplish

this result); add a few sprigs of fresh mint, a few strawberries, a

tablespoonful of Jamaica rum, and you will have an elixir worthy of

Jove to drink and Ganymede to bear.

But the swans from whom the Potomac takes its name, what of them?

In my boyhood I have often heard the septuagenarians and octogenarians

of the lowlands speak of the vast migratory flocks of swans and geese

that would whiten the river for miles. So many were they that in the

spring-time, when the imprisoned frost was released from the ground and

the surface of the earth became soft, vast numbers would swoop upon the

fields of winter-wheat, and ruin the crop in a single day. It was a

common thing for the farmers to employ every supernumerary on the place

to guard the young and tender wheat.

[Illustration: A POT-HUNTER WAITING FOR DUCKS.]

But when the steamboat appeared on the scene, both swan and wild geese

vanished, never to return.

Memory carries me back to my old ancestral home on the Virginia side of

the Potomac, directly opposite the Washington Navy Yard.

In those days, a planter was an epicure by blood, a gourmand by

breeding, and as long as his digestion remained unimpaired he could

revel in the best of living on the choicest viands; and were he a

devotee of the gun, he could amuse himself by killing a variety of game

in such quantities that satiety would be apt to ensue.

Yes, the noble river furnished an unfailing supply of succulent food

to the dwellers on its banks. The number of fish that swam in the

clear waters of the Potomac would seem incredible in these times of

purse-ponds and gill-nets. Our overseer used to devote one week in the

spring to hauling a small seine, and would catch an abundance of fish

to last the plantation the ensuing year, and there were enough herrings

salted in barrels, and smoked shad in kits, to half fill our huge

cellar that ran underground the whole length of the house. Fresh fish

was on every table of the plantation nine months out of the year as a

matter of course. The troll lines, set a short distance from the shore,

yielded a steady supply of catfish, eels, perch, tobacco-boxes and

fresh-water terrapin, or “tarrapin,” as they are called--a luxury only

second to their cousin the “diamond-back.” As for the ducks and geese

that made their home during winter on the flats between Washington and

Alexandria, their number was simply astounding. I have hunted in the

last decade from Havre de Grace to Tampa Bay, but never have seen such

apparently limitless numbers of ducks as circled in the very sight of

the Capitol’s dome some thirty years ago.

The channel was on the Maryland side. It varied from one hundred to

one hundred and fifty yards across. For a mile and a half the water

was rarely over two feet on the flats at low tide, and not over a

fathom at the high-water mark. On these shallow bottoms there grew in

the greatest luxuriance a peculiar quality of indigenous plant, called

celery-grass, which wild fowl preferred to any other food. About the

middle of November the birds began to congregate in such huge flocks

that on a clear morning, when suddenly disturbed they took to wing,

they made a noise like rolling thunder.

There were sportsmen, of course, at that time in the two cities of

Washington and Alexandria, but they confined themselves to the laziest

mode of shooting, and followed the creeks and streams that bordered or

led into the river. Here the wild fowl afforded fine sport, with but

little hardship.

As a general rule, the family on the plantation soon became tired of

eating wild ducks; even the incomparable canvas-back palls at length

upon the palate, as much as the partridges that are devoured on a

wager, one each day for a month. The products of the poultry yard in

the end were always preferred to the spoils of the river. Frequently,

when company were coming to dinner, it was desirable to have a

plentiful supply of game on the table; so my aunt, a famous housewife,

would call up Sandy, who, being lame in one leg, was the general

utility man of the plantation, one who could turn his hand to anything

except regular labor, which he hated as a galley slave his oar, or as

much as Rip Van Winkle did to earn an honest living. Sandy resembled

Rip in more ways than one, though, fortunately for him, he had no sable

Gretchen.

“Take Brother Bush’s gun, Sandy,” my aunt would say, “and go down and

bring me some ducks.”

“How many does you want, Miss Jane?”

A mental calculation, and the number was given; then Sandy hobbled off

with a matter-of-fact air, as if he were merely bound to the barnyard

to slaughter half a dozen chickens. It was just as easy an undertaking,

and one infinitely more to his taste. Calling one of the house-boys,

he would go with him to the shore, a couple of hundred yards or so

distant. Then the couple would walk in single file for some large

tree bordering the river. The ducks feeding on the wild celery close

to the shore would on their approach swim lazily from the banks out of

gun-shot. Sandy would take his position behind the trunk of the tree

and lie close. His companion would leisurely walk back to the house.

The wild fowl, seeing the cause of their alarm disappear, would slowly

circle back, and Sandy, waiting till they were well bunched, would let

go both barrels; then, denuding himself of his breeches, he would wade

in and bring out his game. The ducks never seemed to “catch on” to this

dodge, and Sandy rarely failed to fill his orders, as the drummers say,

“with promptness and dispatch.”

There was only one pot-hunter in the neighborhood of Washington thirty

years ago--an old, grizzled, weather-beaten man, named Jerry, who

anchored his little schooner in a snug cove on our shore every winter,

and such was the unfailing supply of wild ducks that Jerry was rarely

forced to up-anchor, set his sails and speed farther down the river.

Old Jerry was assisted by his son, young Jerry, a chip of the old

block. Every Saturday these two would put their game in canvas bags and

carry them to their regular customers in Washington.

[Illustration: A KICKER.]

I became a fast friend of these two pot-hunters, as much, indeed, as

a boy of twelve years could with matured men. I suppose I imbibed from

them that overmastering love of sport that has made me a wanderer for a

score of years. I was of practical use to them; the sentiment and the

benefits were all on my side, for I made the gardener give them regular

rations of turnips and cabbages. In return, I was allowed the run of

their cabin, a little cuddy at which the meanest, poorest slave on the

plantation would have turned up his nose.

[Illustration: THE CURLEW.]

Jerry was one of the few pot-hunters who possessed a swivel--a monster

ducking gun, with a solid, uncouth stock, fastened to a barrel some

ten or twelve feet long, with a bore as large as an old twelve-pounder

Napoleon. This “thunderer” was loaded with twenty or twenty-five

drachms of powder, and between thirty and forty ounces of shot.

Old Jerry would be in his skiff at the earliest dawn of day, and would

cruise from Washington to Alexandria, closely followed by his son and

heir, some hundred yards in the rear.

As soon as old Jerry saw a closely bunched flock of ducks, he would

lie flat in the bottom of the skiff, and take his creeping paddles,

which were about two feet long, two inches wide by a quarter of an inch

thick, made of the best hickory, and painted a neutral color. With

his arms hanging over the sides of his skiff, and a paddle in each

hand, he could make his way evenly along, hardly raising a ripple. As

he would approach closer the ducks would get more and more restless,

swimming backward and forward, and gazing with alarm at what seemed a

log with a queer, indescribable motion on each side. At last, when the

woolen cap of a man could be seen, and underneath it the glittering

eyes could be detected, then it was that the flock would rise from the

water and take wing. That was the moment old Jerry was waiting for,

with the stock resting against his shoulder, which was protected by a

bag or pillow stuffed tight with feathers to break the recoil, and his

eye ranging along the black barrel just as an artilleryman sights his

piece before giving the word. A quick jerk of the trigger, the click

of the flint striking the pan, the flash of the priming powder, then

the deafening roar of the swivel, followed by a flash of flame, an

encircling volume of smoke, the swirl of the water as the skiff was

rocked by the kicking gun, and the deed was done. Old Jerry would rise

up, grasp his double paddle, and make for the shore to reload, while

the younger Jerry would come up in hot haste to pick up the dead, and

dispatch with his double-barrel the crippled ducks.

Many a day have I played truant, and half the darkies on the plantation

would be searching for me, while I, in the seventh heaven of delight,

was with Jerry in his skiff following up the diving ducks whose wings

were broken. I had a little single barrel that would make the water

splash, and that was about all.

It was my one thought by day and dream by night to possess a gun big

enough to kill the ducks at a fair distance--not a swivel by any manner

of means--I had not the slightest desire to be behind that huge piece

of ordnance when it went off. I wanted one that could strike a flock at

eighty and a hundred yards. I never divulged my thoughts at home. I was

that unfortunate “ne’er do weel,” known as the only son, and such an

intimation would have raised hysterics at the female end of the house,

and something worse at the male end of the mansion, for my paternal

ancestor was a retired officer of the navy, and when he was excited his

speech savored of the forecastle more than the cabin, and his actions

became alarming.

A kind fate threw into my hands just such a weapon as my soul longed

for, and I look back to it now with the same affection that a man of

many _affaires de cœur_ recalls the memory of his first love.

To make a long, rambling story short, my father bought, as a curiosity,

a long Dutch ducking gun, that was intended to be fired from the

shoulder by a man of stalwart build. Loading it carefully, the captain

told the overseer, named Robinson, to fire it. This individual was a

tall, ungainly lopsided man, who got sideways over the ground like a

crab. He had a slatternly wife, with the most vivid, burning red hair I

ever saw, and a large, callow brood of vividly headed children.

I suppose Robinson fired the gun, for it was brought back by his eldest

hope, who said something about “Dad’s laid up; somethin’ or nuther

kicked him;” but no attention was paid to what he said.

My father, accompanied by his youthful likeness, set out to try the

gun himself. He made me fasten a piece of paper to the side of the

ice-house, and then raised the long weapon slowly until he caught

sight, and then pulled. I saw him spin around from the force of the

blow, and utter the most blood-curdling curses against the gun, and

next seizing the harmless piece and striking it against a tree, he

broke the stock short off, then throwing the barrel down, he walked

wrathfully away. I picked up the pieces tenderly, and carried them to

Uncle Peter, the plantation carpenter, and told him I would give him a

quart of that liquor he most loved in the world if he would patch it

up. Uncle Peter agreed, if I would pledge myself to keep his share in

the affair secret. Of course I promised.

What with braces, screws, clamps, rivets, the old piece was

reconstructed, and I was as proud of it as a girl of her first long

dress, or a spinster with a beau. It was about eight feet long, with a

bore about the size of a Queen Anne musketoon. The barrel was slightly

curved outside. The trigger was hard to pull, but the springs were

good, and every time the flint fell a handful of sparks would be

generated.

But, shades of Vulcan, how that ancient gun did kick! No vicious

army mule, no bucking broncho, no Five Points billy-goat ever were

productive of more sudden shocks. While the recoil was not so great as

that of the famous gun that left the load stationary while it lodged

the man who fired it in the fork of the tree two hundred yards in the

rear, yet, like a champion pugilist, it sent every one to grass who

tackled it. Uncle Peter was laid out. Sandy, steadying himself with his

crutch planted firmly in the ground--a human tripod--was spun around

and hurled to mother earth, as Hercules threw Antæus. Jack, the giant

of the plantation, who led the cradlers in the harvest field, and

pulled one end of the seine against six on the other side, tackled that

weapon, and he, too, for the first time in his life, was vanquished.

Though this piece could not quite rival the matchlock that belonged to

Artemus Ward’s grandfather, which would not only knock the shootist

over, but club him when he was down, still it put every man who fired

it on the invalid list for the balance of the day.

[Illustration: OLD JERRY AND THE DUCK GUN.]

I would not have put that gun against my shoulder and pulled the

trigger for a month’s holiday. Uncle Peter, however, did the trick, and

fixed the gun so that it was as harmless as a copperhead with its fangs

drawn. He got the blacksmith to rivet a couple of iron rings close to

the muzzle and another on the breech just above the pan. Next, he put a

massive staple in the prow of the skiff, and another and a smaller one

on the front seat; a chain with a catch passed through staple and ring,

and held everything tight. When the gun was fired the staples received

the shock, and no kicking could loosen them.

Uncle Peter finished the job Saturday night, and Sunday morning a

mysterious message came from the overseer’s son, Sam, that he was

waiting to see me in the shuck-house. I no sooner laid my eyes on him

than I knew his mind was full of something.

“Well, Sam, what is it?”

“Mister”--Sam called every white man and boy mister--“I done hearn pop

say as you were a-goin’ to use that air big gun.”

“Yes, I am; but you keep your mouth shut about it. You hear, Sam?”

“I ain’t a-goin’ to tell, but you’d better leave her alone.”

“Why?”

“Cause it’ll kick yer liver lights out, that’s why.”

“How do you know?”

“Ef you cross yer heart, an’ say, ‘I hope I may die,’ I tell yer.”

This mystic process having been complied with, Sam commenced:

“One evenin’ I slipped home from the brickyard, an’ thar warn’t anybody

at home ’cept the child’en. Pop was gone to market, an’ tuk mam wid

him. I seed the big gun sittin’ in the corner, but pop had tole me that

ef I ever tortched it he’d knock thunder outen me. So I dassent handle

it. Jest then a big hawk lighted on the barn, an’ I jest grabbed the

gun, meanin’ to shoot that bird, thrashin’ or no thrashin’. I crept

behind the corn-house, an’ run the muzzle through the logs, an’ I tuck

aim at the hawk that was watchin’ fer a chicken. I tried to draw back

the hammer to a full cock, when the hammer slipped, and it went off. At

first I thought that something had busted, then that Mose, the brindled

bull, had butt me, or that Toby, the old blind mule, had kicked me, an’

I commenced a hollerin’, an’ jus’ then, by gum! pop an’ mam druv up,

an’ mam thought as how I was killed, an’--” Here Sam stopped to take

breath.

“Well, Sam, what did your father do? Did he scream, too?”

“Scream!” answered Sam; “pop ain’t that kind. No, he picked up the big

gun with one hand, an’ tuk hole on me with the other, an’ dragged me

home, me a-kickin’ an’ a-tryin’ to break away all the time, an’ then

he got that cowhide that hangs over the chimbly, an’ almost tanned the

hide offen me. But you jus’ see where that big gun kicked me,” and Sam

opened his shirt and showed me his narrow pigeon-chest that was bruised

black and blue.

“Now I mus’ be goin’, mister. You mine me, don’t you tortch that air

big gun; as sure as yer do she’ll knock yer cold.”

Sam’s tale frightened me, and I pulled the trigger, with my heart in my

mouth, the first time; but Uncle Peter had done his work well, and if

it kicked I never felt it.

I remember through this long vista of years the ecstatic pleasure

of creeping up to a huge flock early one morning, and the thumping

of my heart that beat like a trip-hammer against the bottom of the

skiff--for I was lying close, and using the creeping paddles. At last,

at last! and as the flock cleared the water I let drive, and was rather

astonished to find myself safe and afloat.

So in the Old Dominion the fox-hunter followed his hounds, and took

timber as it came. The partridge-hunter discharged his right and left

shots in the stubble. One fine morning in April, 1861, they awoke from

their easy-going, rollicking existence, and dropping the shotgun and

sporting rifle, grasped instead the sabre, the lanyard, the sword, or

the musket.

To be continued.

[Illustration]

PICKEREL SHOOTING ON THE MARSHES.

BY O. W. HARD.

One winter, more than a score of years ago--a winter ever memorable for

its extreme cold and great depth of snow--I changed my residence to

near the head of Shelburne Pond, one of the most beautiful sheets of

water in Northern Vermont. The pond is, for the most part, skirted by

low marshes, fringed with alders, pussy and red willows, but here and

there a bold promontory projects into the water.

All my life I had been a keen fisherman, and from my youth up I had,

in one form or another, pursued the finny denizens of the waters. I

had lured the slippery, wriggling eel and festive bullpout from many

a deep hole in the Little Otter, snatched the shy minnow from some

sheltered cove, and landed the shiner and horndace from some still

pool, panting on the sandy shore. I had trolled for pickerel on the

lake, and seen them taken by the score in a seine, had even caught one

through the ice; but of the modern method of annihilation--shooting--I

was ignorant. All through the winter I listened to the stories told by

old fishermen of wonderful shots, and of the number, ranging from one

to five, killed at a single shot. I dreamed of pickerel, and my mouth

watered in expectancy as I fancied I detected a fish-like smell arising

from the pan. Having provided myself with a fowling-piece and a goodly

store of ammunition, I waited patiently for the first signs of milder

weather to appear on the southern swale. The phœbe and redbreast, the

first harbingers of spring, were beginning to trill their morning

carols, but spring still lingered in the lap of winter. At length,

under the genial action of the sun, now high in the heavens, the snow

began to fade slowly and almost imperceptibly away, and patches of

brown sward to appear on the hillsides.

One warm afternoon toward the middle of April, when not a cloud flecked

the sky, nor a breeze rippled the miniature sea, I sallied forth to try

my luck among the finny drove. I soon reached the edge of the north

marsh, and saw that the water was literally alive with fish, darting

hither and thither through the turbid flood, and leaving shining wakes

in the water. But a sluggish brook, now swollen beyond its capacity

with banks overflowed, presented an effectual barrier between me

and the pickerel. Not to be baffled, however, by a little water, I

commenced wading through bog and fen till I reached a fence, on which I

crossed the brook, and went splashing and floundering through a swamp,

and finally reached a very small spot of dry land.

Here I was among myriads of shovel-nosed fellows, facing me, perfectly

motionless in the water, like a ship riding at anchor, or darting from

under my very feet into the channel of the stream. Wading out into the

shallow flood, I spied a big fish parting the water with his dorsal

and caudal fins, and swimming slowly from me. I took aim and blazed

away. To my utter astonishment, instead of one, five speckle-sided,

white-bellied pickerel floated up. If I had been excited before, I was

more so now--I had drawn blood.

Quickly ramming a charge into my gun, I was up and at them again, and

soon had a string that did credit to a tyro, and would have done any

old fisherman’s heart good to behold. I kept up a continual fusillade

among them until the blackbirds, perched on the alders and among

the branches of the gray ashes, began to ring their evening curfew.

Then, slinging the slimy string over my shoulder, I wended my way

homeward, with the pleasing thought in my mind that, if I was wet, the

traditional fisherman’s luck was not wholly mine.

According to Lesueur, the common pike of our inland waters, the long or

shovel-nosed pickerel (_Esox reticulatus_), attains a length of one to

three feet; the body is green above and golden yellow on the sides,

with dark, irregular, longitudinal lines, which unite in imperfect

reticulations; flesh-colored on the throat, lower parts white; beneath

the eye a black vertical band; caudal and dorsal fins greenish black,

while the others are flesh-colored. It is a very rapid swimmer,

voracious and strong; it remains apparently motionless in the water,

awaiting an opportunity to dart upon its prey, consisting of anything

it can swallow excepting the perch. While the body is suspended there

is an incessant motion of the last few rays of the dorsal and anal

fins, with a rotatory movement of the pectoral and, occasionally, of

the ventral and caudal. Such an exact equilibrium do these forces

maintain that the fish does not move in the water. This recalls what I

said before about the fish lying at anchor. He is the shark of fresh

waters, and sometimes attains a weight of thirty pounds, though the

common size is two to five pounds.

For shooting in shallow water, small shot are, perhaps, as good as

anything, but in deep water buckshot or ball are the best. Any one at

all familiar with pickerel shooting has noticed that many fish captured

in this way show no marks; they are simply stunned or killed by

concussion. The pickerel spawns in the early spring, for that purpose

ascending narrow brooks, creeks and ditches as soon as the ice is

clear. The shooting season generally lasts from one to two weeks, or as

long as the fish run. While the ice remains firm in the ponds there is

always good sport, but when that disappears and the frogs, with throats

cleared of frost, set up their nightly croaking, it is ended.

During the last two decades there has been such a renaissance of

sport, so to speak, among the American people, both in forest and on

stream, that what was once regarded merely as the pastime of the idle

and wealthy is now recognized as suitable even for the pillars of the

church and state. Every class seeks relaxation from business cares

and worries in outings with rod and gun. Whatever may be the cause

of this change, the fact remains that sporting has been reduced to

almost an exact science. The effects of this are very palpable; for

instance, pickerel shooting to-day is not what it was twenty, or even

ten years ago. True, we have a law which forbids catching them through

the ice, or shooting them, yet no attention is paid to it, except to

impose an occasional fine on fishermen using nets in the lake. In

direct violation of this law, great numbers are taken through the

ice, and very many shot, and were they not wonderfully prolific, the

species would soon become extinct. Whereas a few years since only a few

sportsmen shot fish, now every one that can lay his hands on a gun or

muster a spear makes a wholesale business of it during the season.

The best sport is obtained when, after a heavy fall, the snow melts

with a rush, so as completely to cover the marshes. On a certain Good

Friday I remember shooting fish at the base of a cobble, where a

Canadian named Isaac was chopping wood. Now Isaac had a sense of humor,

and thought to spoil our fun. He was half blind, but he told us if we

shot a fish “we’d have to be darned slide about it.” We rolled them up

right under his nose, however, and he was apparently none the wiser. I

have enjoyed many a day’s outing with the pickerel, but none that would

quite compare in zest and novelty with the day when I made my first

shot.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: BALL GROUND, DETROIT ATHLETIC CLUB.]

THE DETROIT ATHLETIC CLUB.

BY JOHN A. RUSSELL.

The city of Detroit has had, within the past fifteen years, a variety

of experiences with outdoor sports. It is nearly that length of time

since the enthusiasm for boating was aroused, which spread over the

adjacent territory and culminated in bringing out amateur boating crews

of such national fame as the Hillsdales and the Sho-wae-cae-mettes.

That enthusiasm was intense while it lasted. Every schoolboy, and many

of larger growth for that matter, who could command the wherewith to

buy or hire a boat, was out on the river, practising the characteristic

strokes of Terwilliger or the Nadeaus.

Amateur boating clubs were organized in great profusion, and their

boat-houses lined docks and slips in such numbers that the visitor

to Detroit was amazed, and even the native could hardly account for

the enthusiasm that could support them. Physicians who had patients

of sedentary habits had a general prescription of “Take a little spin

on the river in the evening,” which was administered _quantum suff_.

Even the ladies were interested in the sport. It was no uncommon sight

to see big barges industriously propelled by young girls and maidens

grown, with here and there a more elderly person, who, with advancing

years, had not forgotten the long sweep or the feathering motion of the

oar.

The organization of a baseball club and its admission to the National

League diverted some of the enthusiasm which had been given to

boating, and the city became “ball-crazy” at once. The paroxysms

became more marked every time the team won a substantial victory.

Interest increased in the work of the professional club. Good hands

began to look after its financial affairs, its positions were well

supported, while the small boy and the devotee of physical culture

took to ball-playing in summer, in preference to rowing, with a dash

of gymnasium work in the winter in which boxing and sparring were the

leading features. Getzein, Brouthers and the “good Deacon” White were

put up as the idols to be worshipped in the places whence Durell,

Dusseau, Van Valkenburgh and the other famous oarsmen of Monroe, Ecorse

and Hillsdale had fallen. Even those who were not active, working

devotees of the national game were found quite equal to taking their

exercise by proxy on the cushioned seats of the grandstand, or in the

more exposed positions of the “bleaching-boards.”

[Illustration: THE HIGH POLE VAULT.]

Boating had its day. The fast oarsmen dropped back into semi-obscurity.

The Montie Brothers, of Ecorse, who were in the famous Wah-wah-tah-see

Club, returned to their avocations, as did Schweikart and Alder,

of the Centennial Four of Detroit, while their associates, Parker

and McMahon, developed into professional athletes and instructors.

Only one of the old clubs--the Detroit--retains its organization and

equipment in anything like the style in which they were maintained

during the prevalence of the aquatic fever. Many of the oarsmen,

having grown older, have taken to yachting as a pastime. For this

there are unlimited facilities on the Detroit River and in the lakes

above and below the city. There is not nearly as much exertion and

training required for a yachting expedition as for a mile-and-a-half

straightaway, and yet there is quite as much judgment called into play

in handling sheets and tiller, with immeasurably more real sport.

Baseball, while it has palled somewhat, seems to have encouraged the

taste for individual exertion. Up to a very recent period that taste

was inclined to the pastime from which it came--baseball. No great

interest was taken in general athletics by the majority until about

a year ago. Prior to that time an organization for the promotion

of general athletics had existed in the Detroit Amateur Athletic

Association. Its membership, however, was small, and though its

ambitions may have been great, its achievements were few, one alone

excepted; that being its expansion into the present Detroit Athletic

Club, and its fitting up of gymnasia and grounds. The Amateur Athletic

Association was very like good King William IV. in that “nothing,

perhaps, in life so became it like the leaving of it.” It merged itself

into the movement for the new club, of which it was the precursor, and

its members the founders and boomers until there was no further need

of booming; for the present club is a pretty healthy infant. Its birth

occurred at a time when its existence was most needed, and just after

the period when boating had lost favor, and the ambitious athletes

had learned that baseball had not all that could satisfy the utmost

desires of the athletic spirit. It had a manifest advantage in being

able to offer a greater diversity of sports than boating and baseball,

which, after all, are two very limited sections of the general field of

athletics.

The new association came into existence a year and a half ago. It is

not in its organization like the Montreal Association, described by

Mr. Whyte in ~Outing~ for April, a federation of the athletic

clubs of the city, but is a distinctive and independent club, with

its own equipment and government. It was formed as a joint-stock

corporation, with five hundred shares of the nominal value of $10.00.

The demand for these became so great that a premium was soon obtainable

for certificates of membership, their value going up until they are

now held at $50.00 per share. The receipts from the sale of stock gave

the young club a strong treasury from the start. The grounds of the

old Athletic Association were secured on a long lease. They are on

Woodward Avenue, in the heart of the finest residential portion of the

city, and the plot is, perhaps, the largest piece of desirable property

now unoccupied in the city; it contains something over 300,000 square

feet, the land being, in round figures, 400 by 800 feet in dimensions.

The six acres thus afforded have a value of nearly $200,000. They are

readily accessible from both the business and residential quarters, and

face two leading streets.

This property secured, steps were at once taken to erect a building

suited to the needs of the club. There were some buildings on the tract

barely fit for temporary quarters. In these the club housed itself

until the present structure (see illustration, p. 212) was completed

and opened last March. The house has a frontage of 107 feet and an

extreme depth of 68 feet. It is of pressed brick with brownstone

and terra-cotta ornaments, and possesses in its design much of the

spirit of the newer styles of construction seen in English library and

gymnasium buildings. Its space is well allotted. The entrance-hall is

also a reception-room, with a cheery grate in pressed-brick designs.

An ornamental staircase leads to the upper floor. The lower floor,

besides containing the reception-room, has on it a ladies’ parlor and

toilet-room, offices for the directors and stewards, a billiard-room,

reading-room, the baths, and a locker-room. A wing on a lower level

contains the bowling-alleys, while the upper floor is devoted to

the gymnasium, the only reserved space being used for a small

refreshment-room. Saved room under staircases is utilized for closets

and chests, and there is not an inch of waste space in the house. The

kitchen and accommodations for servants of the club are under the roof,

in the attic story.

[Illustration: THE RUNNERS OF THE DETROIT ATHLETIC CLUB.]

[Illustration: THE FOOTBALL ELEVEN, DETROIT ATHLETIC CLUB.]

The various departments of the club-house are complete in their

appointments. The reception-hall is a roomy apartment, finished in

hard wood, which opens into the directors’ room and the reading-room

on the one side, and a billiard-parlor and the bowling-alley on the

other. The directors’ room is the headquarters of the caretakers and

the office of the club. The reading-room is spacious, a big table

and easy, antique oak chairs forming the furnishings, the walls

being decorated with sketches of other club-houses and a series of

photographic reproductions of the disc-throwers of the ancient Roman

period. The mental pabulum furnished is of the class one would most

naturally expect to find amid such associations--the leading journals

and magazines devoted to athletics, the daily papers of the city, and

the literary magazines. The billiard-parlor contains three Schulenberg

tables, oak-finished, with furniture harmonizing with the club-house

furnishings. It has already shown itself to be rather too small for the

demands likely to be made upon it, but the house has been so designed

that a wing may be extended without marring the harmony. Wrought-iron

designs in gas-fixtures complete the furnishings of this part of the

house.

Just beyond the reading-room, and disconnected from it, are the bath

and locker rooms. A separate entrance to them is afforded from the

grounds, while they are also connected by a private staircase with the

gymnasium overhead. The lockers, in number about 300, are arranged in

“L” fashion, the spaces between each set of six affording the privacy

desirable for dressing-rooms.

The bath-room caused much marvel in these parts. It is 30 by 16 feet in

size. The centre of marble-paved floor is occupied by the plunge-bath,

20 feet long and 12 feet wide. Its sides are lined with white enameled

bricks, and a constant flow of water is secured from the city

service-pipes. It varies in depth from three to five feet. At one end

of the bath-room four marble-fitted shower-baths are located, and close

by, an equal number of foot-baths.

Just beyond the bath and reading rooms, on the side of the house

facing the grounds, and so depressed as to give a clay bottom for

the structure, is the wing which contains the bowling-alleys. These

are six in number, of the regulation length of 65 feet, and 42 inches

wide. They are admirably equipped; the entire work, as well as that

of the gymnasium above, having been executed by the Narragansett, R.

I., Machine Company. A gallery for spectators is located behind the

dead-line, above the level of the alleys.

The entire upper story, aside from that portion given to the lunch-room

and staircase landings, is given up to the gymnasium. This, of course,

is the feature of the clubhouse. It is a well-lighted, lofty hall,

76 by 32 feet, there being fifteen feet available in height from the

hardwood floor to the open-timbered roof. The apparatus, being all new,

is of the latest designs. The weight and pulley system of machines is

used in every conceivable form for developing the muscles of the arms,

chest, legs, neck, shoulders and the grip. Hand-over-hand climbing

is afforded by ropeladders, poles, and hemp ropes suspended from the

roof-timbers. Vaulting facilities appear in horses and frames, and a

system of parallel and horizontal bars is provided with the necessary

mattings to prevent injury. Besides these more elaborate pieces of

machinery there are bells and Indian clubs innumerable for the classes

in calisthenics, and gloves and foils for the devotees of the manly

art and the gentleman’s sport. This practically completes the list of

indoor sports.

[Illustration: F. D. STANDISH.

FRANK W. EDDY.

JOHN H. CLEGG.]

For outdoor exercise the club has admirable facilities. The big tract

of ground which the club controls has very little, comparatively,

of its area taken up by the club-house, and one standing on the big

second-floor balcony which extends over the billiard-room on the

lower floor, will notice that the turf that stretches in front of

him for a furlong is cut up for a diversity of uses. The running

track is the most noticeable feature. It is a quarter of a mile from

start to finish, was laid out by the noted trainer of the Brooklyn

Club, Jack McMaster, and was built from his designs. It is 16 feet in

width at all points except on the finishing stretch and the 220-yards

straightaway. This latter takes in the south side of the quarter-mile

track as far as it goes and has a width of twenty feet. The track

was laid last spring, is cinder-packed to the depth of a foot and

has a clay foundation, all of which will combine to make it an ideal

running-course in time. There was some disappointment with it at first,

as it was feared it would be a trifle slow, but the rains and rolling

have eliminated its spongy qualities and made it perfect, so that fast

time can be expected upon it.

Within the circle formed by the track the two baseball diamonds are

laid out. To the north of the track, and in shelter, are the tennis

courts, four of them being “skin” courts, the rest, half a dozen, being

the turf courts which are not so much in favor. The field is a fine one

for cricket and football, both of which games are cultivated. Far down

in the extreme corner there looms up during the summer a skeleton-like

structure, which unjoints itself with the advent of winter, and forms

a toboggan slide with an incline and a slide over an eighth of a mile

long. Another corner is devoted in winter to a curling rink, where the

royal Scotch game is played by its admirers with the greatest zest. The

Detroit Curling Club has many members in the athletic club, and for

their benefit a rink was set apart for the jolly Scotchmen and their

besoms and curling-stones last winter. So pronounced was the success of

the experiment that it will probably be repeated this coming winter.

The readers of ~Outing~ will not be amazed, then, to know that

with such facilities, the club’s membership kept growing as fast

as applications could be investigated and applicants admitted. The

_personnel_ of the management was drawn from the young-man class of

active workers. The president, Frank W. Eddy, had been the originator

of the more modest Amateur Athletic Association, as he was of its

successor, the present organization; and to him and half a dozen close

associates the major part of the success of the club is attributable.

Mr. Eddy was also one of the promoters of the movement for the Amateur

Athletic Union of the United States, of which he is vice-president

and one of the strongest backers. The first meeting of the union took

place in the grounds of the Detroit Club in September. Mr. Eddy’s work

was supplemented by that of a faithful set of directors, and between

them they have managed to run the membership pretty close up to its

permanent limit of five hundred.

[Illustration: IN THE BOWLING ALLEYS.]

[Illustration: THE GYMNASIUM.]

It must not, however, be for a moment believed that all these, or even

a liberal percentage of them, are practised athletes. The membership

of the club is mainly drawn from the class of young men between 18 and

25 years of age, in that period of life where sedentary careers are

apt to tell hardest on constitutions however vigorous. There are many

members, it is true, who had been accustomed to gymnasium work in the

period of the boating excitement, but besides these, and the nucleus

drawn from the old Amateur Athletic Association, it is fair to say

that nine out of ten of the members were novices when they entered the

club. There had been no such thing in Detroit as the cultivation of

general athletic sports until this organization took hold, and whatever

was cultivated was usually run to death. The private gymnasia were

the first to break the ice; but even in these men undertook to rival

Samson or Hercules in a week’s time, and, straining themselves, very

often discouraged others as much as they caused injury to themselves.

The private gymnasia were ephemeral affairs which were unsatisfactory,

for the most part, and they never afforded the opportunity for

long-continued training. Their prices, usually from ten to fifteen

dollars for a two or three months’ term, were rather too much for young

men of moderate means, and even where these drawbacks were eliminated

there was no facility for outdoor work during the summer season under

the direction of a proper tutor. The new club’s dues of twelve or

fifteen dollars a year, at most, had an advantage from the standard

of economy, and the price at which shares were sold early in its

history made it possible for many to join it at a comparatively slight

expenditure of money, taking into consideration the advantages gained.

The novices took hold with a will, the advantage of a good instructor

being very great, and under direction they have shown that there is

much to be hoped for.

The instructor of the club is John Collins, a young man of twenty-five.

He has also devoted some time to training in the gymnastic department

of the Catholic Club and the local branch of the Young Men’s Christian

Association. He has been five or six years in the business now, and is

acknowledged to be the best all-round athlete in the city to-day. His

special points of excellence are the grace and science of his boxing,

and the expertness with which he handles the foils. He is self-trained,

and during his career has boxed and sparred with most of the great men

in the business, having stood up with Jack Burke, Pat Killen, Dennie

Kelleher, “Reddy” Gallagher, Jack King, and others of equal fame. His

earliest aspirations were in the direction of a private tutorship,

and he was picked up first by the proprietors of some of the private

gymnasia, where his methods and skill attracted so much attention as to

secure him his present place. He is lightly built, quick and active,

and has the necessary amount of patience with his pupils to qualify

him for the difficulties of teaching. So far he has proved popular and

profitable to the members of the club.

[Illustration: THE CLUB HOUSE.]

It must not be supposed for a moment from the foregoing remarks about

the novelty of athletic training in Detroit, that there are no members

of the club who are above the level of mediocrity. That would be far

from the truth. There are quite a number of athletes who were drawn

almost directly from the teams of the colleges in which they were

educated to the new movement at home, and these are among the very

active workers. The captain of the club is Nathan C. Williams, Jr.,

who was a Yale graduate of ’84, and is now in business in Detroit. He

has charge of the field sports of the club, is responsible for its

property used in gymnastic work, and arranges, with the aid of his

lieutenants, the various exhibitions and field days which are given

from time to time. Mr. Williams was manager of the Yale baseball

team in his college days, and had an enviable record at New Haven.

He has two lieutenants, Sidney T. Miller, a young lawyer, a graduate

of Trinity College, Hartford, and Benjamin S. Comfort, Principal of

the Tappan School, who was also inducted into the spirit of athletic

work in one of the Eastern colleges. The club’s secretary, George J.

Bradbeer, is an excellent hammer-thrower, an allround athlete, and was

a good ball-player in by-gone years. The club’s president, Mr. Eddy,

is a sprinter and ball-player of local note, and rarely misses a daily

jog in good time on the cinder track. The University of Michigan,

which is located so near Detroit, has furnished quite a number of

young athletes, among them Royal T. Farrand, who held the University

light-weight championship in boxing; Fred T. Ducharme, who has won a

score of running races in good, if not fast time, and who promises

to develop into a great jumper; Geo. P. Codd, a Michigan sophomore,

the crack pitcher of the University ball team, and a good single

player in lawn tennis; and Albert E. Miller, a young lawyer, who is

the best tennis player in the club--so much so, in fact, that he is

generally required to give handicaps to contestants. Mr. Miller was

first lieutenant and manager of the club’s events last year, and is

this season catcher in the club’s regular baseball nine. So far none

of the runners have made startling time, except in base-running, which

is hardly a recognized feat. In this, however, W. H. Reidy has equaled

the best time made by professionals, 14 4-5 seconds, and the feat has

been time and again duplicated by members of the club in 15 seconds.

Ben. S. Warren, a recent accession from Yale, has developed into a

fast sprinter, having made the 100-yard dash in 10 2-5 seconds, the

best record for the feat being 10 seconds even. In last year’s sports

Warren won the quarter-mile dash in 60 1-5 seconds, and has since made

it in 54 seconds. This year a fast runner has been developed in Ed.

Sanderson, a young student, who with ten yards start made the quarter

on a slow track in 57 seconds. W. A. Chope and M. W. Sales, all young

athletes, are among the more promising of the fast ones.

[Illustration: THE RECEPTION PARLOR.]

[Illustration: JOHN COLLINS, TRAINER, DETROIT CLUB.]

The baseball team is a strong one. The regular nine is made up as

follows: A. E. Miller, catcher; Charles T. Miller, pitcher; Ed. E.

Swift, third base; W. H. Reidy, short stop; Wm. C. Johnson, second

base; Wm. H. Reid, first base; Walter A. Chope, left field; Mart. J.

Root, centre field; Charles K. Foster, right field. Of these Chope has

the reputation of being a phenomenal left-fielder for an amateur; Root

is a man who had a good deal of practice with his fellow students at

Yale; Reidy is a good pitcher, and Reid is a player who made a name

with the Class Club, one of the strongest local amateur teams. Besides

these, there are substitutes innumerable; so many, in fact, that the

team has rarely played together as named.

The team is managed by Principal Comfort. It has already won a majority

of the games played against the State University team, and the strong

local nines with which the city abounds. The ball club’s uniform is

gray and blue, the Athletic Club’s colors being gray and black.

Football has a good number of devotees. Sidney T. Miller, Professor

Comfort, Strathearn Hendrie, a Trinity College man, Albert E. Miller,

Edward E. Swift and R. Humffreys-Roberts, the latter a well-known

English player, are among the leaders of the sport, but they have been

unlucky in their weather. The coming year will be utilized to the best

advantage, however, when some interesting games are promised.

The tennis players include A. E. Miller, H. T. Cole, Jerome H. Remick,

Geo. P. Codd, David S. Carter, Sidney T. Miller and H. E. Avery.

Codd and A. E. Miller represented the club at the tournament of the

North-western Lawn Tennis Association, at Chicago, in July, 1887, tying

for second place in the doubles.

[Illustration: RACING OVER HURDLES.]

The intention of the club management is to have a boating department

in the near future. The City of Detroit owns Belle Isle, an island,

700 acres in extent, opposite the city, which has been turned into one

of the finest public parks of the country. The yachting and boating

clubs have taken or are preparing to take up their quarters on the

shores of the island, where a congenial location and ready access to

clear water are afforded. Here the Athletic Club’s boating department

will be located, the city gymnasium of the club affording facilities

for training the oarsmen and keeping them in shape. Those who know

the history of boating in the West and are familiar with the names of

the leaders, will recognize what the club has to hope for when it is

stated that its membership includes John H. Clegg and Fred Standish,

who have made the best records in pair-oared amateur races for years

back. Both men are developments of the boating furore of a dozen

years ago. Clegg took to the water for his health, and Standish for

recreation, and they have been rowing together since 1881. In that year

they won the senior pairs of the N. W. A. R. A., at Diamond Lake, and

in 1882 took the senior pairs of the Mississippi Valley Amateur Rowing

Association, at Creve Cœur Lake, near St. Louis. They were winners at

Lachine, Quebec, in 1882. In 1883 and ’84 Clegg did not row, but in

1885 he returned to his old love, winning with Standish the pair-oared

contests at New Orleans, at Moline, Ill., at St. Louis and at Detroit.

At Hamilton, Ont., in August, 1885, they defeated Phillips and Hard,

of the New York Athletic Club, in the Canadian annual regatta, winning

in their class. Their record in 1885 was four straight victories and

the lowering of the two-mile record. Clegg has decided views on the

amateur question, and has contributed several articles to the press

which meet the approval of the leading amateurs. He is opposed to

semi-professionalism, paid crews, and those who row in the interest

of backers, and believes all such should be excluded from competition

against genuine amateurs. Mr. Clegg is a genuine American amateur, and

with him and his co-worker, as leaders, there seems no reason why there

should not be a healthy renaissance of boating among the members of the

club.

It was this body of athletic enthusiasts who induced the Amateur

Athletic Union of the United States to hold its first national meeting

on the grounds of the Detroit Athletic Club. Those who are interested

in amateur athletics already know of the success of that first meeting,

held in the middle of September last. The entries included the leaders

in the various departments of field and track work, and numbered 120,

many competing in several events. There was excellent weather, a crowd

of fully 5,000 people to enjoy the clever work, and much enthusiasm

on the part of the participants and spectators. Some fast work was

done in the running and jumping, although some people had fears that

the track would prove rather slow. These fears were dispelled by the

results, which were, in some cases, within one-fifth of a second of

the best records. There was no record-breaking, however, save in one

event--throwing the 56-lb. hammer. Till the meeting, Mr. C. A. J.

Queckberner, of the Staten Island Athletic Club, had held the American

championship on a best record of 26 ft. 4¾ in., while W. J. M. Barry,

of Queen’s College, Cork, Ireland, had made 27 ft. The first essays of

Queckberner fell below his own mark, and the work was tame until Mr. W.

L. Coudon, of the New York Athletic Club, broke the world’s record by

throwing the clumsy weight three-fourths of an inch beyond the distance

made by Mr. Barry. When, in further competition with Queckberner,

Coudon threw the weight 27 ft. 9 in., the excitement was intense, for

even before the official announcement was made, it was apparent that he

had beaten his previous throws by nearly a foot.

The running was of good character, with such contestants as Malcolm W.

Ford, C. H. Sherrill, F. Westing, and a host of younger men from the

New York Athletic clubs, and one each from Detroit and Philadelphia.

Mr. C. H. Sherrill, of Yale College, suffered an unfortunate injury to

his leg in the 220-yard dash, and Mr. T. P. Conneff, of the Manhattan

Club, was badly worn out by the five-mile run, of which he was the

winner; but beyond these there were no accidents to mar the occasion.

The running times made very nearly approached records, but in no case

excelled them.

The jumping did not come so close to records as the running. The

hammer-throwing beat Queckberner’s record of 102 ft. 7 in., W. J. M.

Barry, who has an American record of 129 ft. 1½ in., throwing the

16-lb. hammer from a seven-foot circle, without follow, 127 ft. 1 in.

Queckberner beat his present championship record by throwing 106 ft. 11

in. The vaulting was short. In the tug-of-war the “Busy Bees” Athletic

Association of Company B, 22d Regiment, N. G. S. N. Y., competed with a

four-men team of the Manhattan Athletic Club, best two in three pulls,

time limit, and weight limited to 600 pounds. The “Busy Bees” won the

first and third pulls, the Athletic Club taking the second.

About all the events there was a dash and interest and that reassuring

appearance of “squareness” which makes the work of the Athletic Union

so attractive. This promises to be one of the distinctive marks of

amateurism as opposed to professionalism. The management was excellent.

Every event went off on time and without a hitch. The timekeeping, the

judging, and the announcement were done with a rapidity that pleased

spectators and left a good impression both of the National Union and

its local representative. One immediate result of the success of the

meeting was a boom in the local club’s membership.

[Illustration: THROWING THE HAMMER.]

There are many reasons why Detroit people are proud of their Amateur

Athletic Club. The success of the idea which they aim to promote, the

success of the national meeting, the character of the work done and the

excellence of the facilities for doing it, the energy of the officers

and the discipline of the members, and, above all, the vast physical

benefit to result from the encouragement of the athletic idea, are

among those reasons. Already the good work has begun to bear fruit

in the establishment of other gymnasia. The Young Men’s Christian

Association has equipped one, though not on quite so extensive a

scale as the Athletic clubs. The Catholic Club has a class of about

sixty, mostly its younger members, in training in a modest yet

commodious “gym,” and the dealers tell the writer that the quantity of

apparatus sold for private and home use during the past year is simply

astonishing. These are direct results of the work of the Athletic Club,

and there is hope for more.

GRAY EVENING.

The evening’s gown of gray

Sweeps over the sighing grain:

She comes, with her tender smile,

As the sunset’s glories wane;

And the flowers nod to her,

And the grasses kiss her feet,

And she sings to the weary day

A lullaby, low and sweet:

Sing soft, sing low,

O Evening gray!

Hush thou to rest

The weary day.

The morning was very fair,

And she laughed for very glee;

And the blossoms, waking, breathed

Of love and of hope to me.

But love and hope have waned

As the sunset colors wane--

O Evening, come, for the day

Is athrob with fevered pain!

Sing soft, sing low,

Sweet Evening gray!

Lull thou to rest

The heart-wrung day.

_Charles Prescott Shermon._

TO THE PACIFIC THROUGH CANADA.

BY ERNEST INGERSOLL.