~The~ Second Gatling Battery, National Guard, New York, held a

prize shoot at Creedmoor Thanksgiving Day. The Overton Medal was won by

A. L. Klein.

The champions’ match for a $300 medal was won by Driver G. R. Kelly,

W. B. Lowe, second, and S. D. Coborn, third. In the honorary members’

match Capt. A. H. Baker won 1st prize, C. J. Doran 2d. E. C. Webb won

the revolver match; S. D. Coborn 2d, H. J. Jordan 3d. Prizes were also

won by Capts. Nutt and Limberger, Lieut. Castell, Sergt. Yugman and

Corp. Lennon. A banquet was served by Capt. Limberger after the shoot.

* * * * *

~Thanksgiving~ Day at Elkwood Park, near Long Branch, Miss

Annie Oakley and Phil. Daly, Jr., shot a match at 50 live birds for a

handsome gold badge; Mr. Daly shooting at fifty-five and Miss Oakley at

fifty birds. Mr. Daly won, missing but seven birds, Miss Oakley missing

8. There was a large crowd to witness the shooting.

* * * * *

~A new~ Gun Club has been formed at Topeka, Kansas. It had a

shoot Thanksgiving Day, using Peoria blackbirds.

* * * * *

~At~ Arlington, Md., Nov. 29, Wm. Graham and H. Capron shot a

match at 25 live birds for $50 a side. The conditions were: 25 birds

each, Graham standing at 28 yards rise, and using a 12-gauge gun, with

one hand only; Capron standing at 30 yards, using a 10-gauge, with both

hands. Hurlingham rules. E. C. Hall, referee. The match resulted in a

tie, as follows:

W. Graham 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 0 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 24

H. Capron 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 0 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 24

The tie was then shot off, and resulted as follows;

Graham 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 11

Capron 1 1 1 0 1 0 1 1 0 1 1 8

Graham won the match.

* * * * *

~At~ Troy, Kansas, November 27, Dr. Dinsmore, with a 32-40,

185 calibre rifle, did some fine shooting at 500 yards. The score in

detail was: 5, 5, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5--48; 5, 5, 4, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5,

5, 5--49; total, 97 out of a possible 100 points. This, with so small

a calibre as a 32, is extraordinarily fine work. In fact it would be

considered fine with any kind of a rifle. The Doctor also shot a fine

score with the same rifle off-hand, at 200 yards, his scores being: 78,

85, 88, 82, 88--421--possible 500 points.

* * * * *

~W. W. Bennett~, on Thanksgiving Day, at Walnut Hill, made the

following scores at 50 yards on the standard target with revolver:

92, 92, 89--273; and on December 1, made the following scores, same

conditions: 94, 89, 89, 89, 89--450.

* * * * *

~At~ the Southern California Trap Tournament, held at Riverside,

Cal., Mr. M. Chick, of San Diego, won the Selby champion medal for the

third time against all comers in Southern California--killing 88 out of

a possible 100; 50 single and 25 double rises. During the meeting Mr.

Chick shot at 160 blue-rocks and broke 148.

* * * * *

~The~ Wichita, Kansas, Trap Tournament was held under very

adverse circumstances, the weather being very disagreeable. Some fine

shooting was done by Messrs. Stancer, Swiggett, Brown and Smyth. Mr.

Stancer shot at 396 and killed 358, only missing 38, which is an

exceptionally fine record.

* * * * *

~The~ contest for the Standard gold medal at Cleveland, Ohio,

between the West End, Rockford and Locksley gun clubs, resulted in a

victory for the West End Club, the total scores being: West End, 171;

Rockford, 158; Locksley, 145. The medal has to be won three times

before it becomes the property of either club, and until won, the

highest score on the winning team wears it. The same day the West End

Club held their badge shoot, which was won by Mr. W. Bell, who also

wears the Standard badge for three months.

* * * * *

~There~ were about 200 present to witness the match at Starr’s

Driving Park, Baltimore, Md., between Mr. Fred Kell, of Baltimore, and

Mr. W. Graham, the Englishman. Graham held one hand behind him. The

match was for $100 a side. It resulted as follows: Fred Kell, 20; Wm.

Graham, 20. The conditions were twenty-five birds. The twenty-second

bird of Graham’s was lost through his going to the trap with his gun

unloaded, and calling pull, which cost him the match.

* * * * *

~The~ Rod and Gun Rifle Club of Springfield, Mass., paid a

friendly visit, by invitation, to the Broad Brook, Ct., Rifle Club,

recently. A very enjoyable day was spent at the targets and also at the

dinner table. The Broad Brook Club will visit Springfield at an early

date.

* * * * *

~The~ celebrated Zettler Rifle Club, of New York City, have a

champion medal. Captain B. Walther won it the second time with 115 out

of a possible 120.

* * * * *

~At~ Walnut Hill, Boston, Mass., a short time ago, Mr. J.

B. Fellows, the well-known amateur rifle and pistol shot, made the

following scores at 50 yards with a 22-calibre pistol: 93, 92, 90,

88, 93--456. Mr. W. W. Bennett holds the professional record for same

distance with a total of 470 points.

* * * * *

~Major James P. Frost~, Brigade Inspector of Rifle Practice,

M. V. M., has obtained permission to organize a rifle team from the

Massachusetts State troops to go to Europe next summer to compete

against teams across the ocean. It is proposed to leave about the

middle of June, and to be gone a month or six weeks.

* * * * *

~The~ Schuetzen-Verein, of San Antonio, Texas, held their

tournament in November. The prizes aggregated in value $642. In the

off-hand team contest the winners were:

San Antonia S. V., score 350, $17; Cuero Rifle Club, 326, $10.20; San

Antonio Rifle and Gun Club, 308, $6.80.

In the Individual contest the winners were:

Ed Steves, Jr., 93; S. V. Pfeuffer, 92; Alois Altmann, 87; Ern Seffel,

86; Earnest Steves, 86; G. Altmann, 84; W. J. Suter, 84; A. Steves,

84; A. Holeyapfel, 84; R. Krause, 84; L. Simon, 83; P. Nulm, 83; E.

Gruene, 83; F. Scholl, 83; I. P. Samer, 82; O. Forcke, 82; Chas.

Hummel, 82; A. Altmann, 81; W. Forcke, 81; H. Faust, 80; Ad. Wendler,

80; Dr. A. Herff, 79; H. Arnold, 78; J. Muschel, 78; A. Guenther, 78;

Ed. Mittendorf, 78; T. Herff, 77; H. O. Journeay, 77; E. Dosch, 77; H.

Vanseckel, 75; H. Clemens, 75; H. L. Fowler, 74.

There were 94 individual riflemen who took part in this contest. The

conditions were, 5 shots at 150 yards, muzzle rest, and 5 shots at 250

yards, standard target.

* * * * *

~At~ the last meeting of the Houston, Texas, Schuetzen-Verein

the following scores were made at 200 yards, three shots at rest,

possible 30: W. Kamin, 27 points won at 117 yards, off-hand, two shots,

possible 30; W. Keiler, 29; O. Erichson, 29.

* * * * *

~The~ American Field Championship Cup, won by L. S. Carter, is a

magnificent piece of work. It was to have cost originally $200; but the

artist elaborated his designs, so that $300 will be nearer the figure.

* * * * *

~A friendly~ rifle match was shot at Troy, Kansas, between Dr.

R. S. Dinsmore, of Troy, and Dr. G. I. Royce, of Topeka. Both used

Dr. Dinsmore’s rifle. The scores were: Dr. Dinsmore, 78, 78, 79, 77,

80--392; Dr. Royce, 72, 70, 76, 76, 74, 76--368.

* * * * *

~Company G.~, California National Guard, is considered the crack

rifle company in the State. At the late State shoot 43 men made 1,488

points out of 2,150.

* * * * *

~Mr. J. A. Huggins~, of Pittsburgh, Penn., made in a rifle match

at 200 yards, off-hand, with a 32-calibre rifle, within the rules of

the N. R. A., the unprecedented score of 440 points out of a possible

500 in 50 shots. The same day he also made 436, same conditions. These

scores beat all previous records, being the record for 50 and 100

shots. The American standard (Hinman) off-hand target was used.

* * * * *

~Officers~ of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to

Animals stopped a rabbit coursing meeting that was in progress at

Hempstead, L. I. There were over 100 visitors present, among them Mr.

and Mrs. S. D. Ripley, Mr. and Mrs. A. Belmont, Jr., Mrs. S. S. Sands,

Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy, Mrs. Dodge, Miss Morgan and Miss Bird.

Mr. A. Belmont, Jr., had expended a great deal of time and money to

make the meeting a success. The following gentlemen appeared before

Squire Clowes: A. Belmont, Jr., Theo. Rutherford Beach, John Doty,

William Reardon. They were charged with wilfully, unlawfully, wickedly

and unjustifiably mutilating and killing an animal. The trial was set

for the following Friday, when the court room was crowded. The jury

returned a verdict of not guilty, and there was a great outburst of

applause when the verdict was announced.

It is to be hoped that Mr. Bergh will see that to follow in the

footprints of his late uncle in all things is not the proper thing. No

one will assist him more than the true sportsman. But for him to array

himself against the legions of true sportsmen is sheer folly, as he

will do himself and the cause he represents more harm than good. If

such sport can be stopped it is hard to say where it will stop.

* * * * *

~Pistol~ and revolver shooting is having quite a boom throughout

the country. At St. Louis, recently, some fine shooting with a pistol

has been done, Mr. L. V. D. Perrett making the following scores at 50

yards on a Standard American target: 87, 85, 87, 83, 86, 82, 91, 86,

80, 87--854.

* * * * *

~The~ Miller Rifle Club of Hoboken, N. J., and Our Own Rifle

Club of Newark, had a match at the Miller’s quarters, Hoboken,

recently. The target used was the Zettler ring. The scores were: Our

Own Rifle Club, 2,380; Miller Rifle Club, 2,356.

* * * * *

~Mr. E. C. Mohrstadt~ won the handsome gold medal of the St.

Louis Pistol Club, with the good average of 81-4--11; Fred A. Todde

second, with 80-8--13; W. Bauer third. Mr. Bauer made the highest

single score of 93 points out of possible 100. They will hold a

tournament July 15-19, 1889, when $700 will be offered in prizes.

* * * * *

~At~ Dover, N. H., November 29, the following scores were made

at 200 yards off-hand, with match rifles: H. M. Wiggan, 100 shots, 82,

89, 82, 80, 81, 87, 80, 88, 79, 73--821; J. B. Stevens, Jr., 90 shots,

73, 82, 73, 80, 78, 67, 77, 80, 78--697; G. H. Wentworth, 60 shots, 86,

91, 79, 88, 84, 92--520.

* * * * *

~The~ following were the best scores made by the Zettler Rifle

Club, December 11, 10 shots each, gallery target and distance: G.

Zimmerman, 115; L. Flach, 115; M. B. Engel, 115; F. Lindkloster, 114;

J. H. Brown, 113; A. Bertrandt, 113.

* * * * *

~A team~ match was shot December 1, at Springfield, N. J.,

between teams captained by E. D. Miller and C. Johnson; teams of three

men, 50 clay pigeons each. The scores were: Miller’s team--E. Miller,

43; A. Sickly, 43; W. Sopher, 38--123. Johnson’s team--C. Johnson, 39;

I. M. Roll, 40; D. Conover, 34--112.

* * * * *

~The~ Williamsburgh Schuetzen Gesellschaft elected these

officers at their annual meeting: Captain, Charles Horney; first

lieutenant, Geb. Krauss; second lieutenant, A. Hoffman; secretary, J.

Richards; treasurer, K. Sohleich; first shooting-master, G. Kleinbut;

second shooting-master, W. Horney.

ROWING.

~The~ first intercolonial university eight-oared race was

rowed October 6, on the Lower Yarra course, from Humbug Beach to

the Gasworks, a course of about two miles and a half in length. The

universities represented were Sidney, Adelaide, and Melbourne. Sidney

struck the water first, but Melbourne and Adelaide dashed off with

the lead, the former at 38, and Adelaide rowing at 39. The latter’s

coxswain steered badly at first. Melbourne gradually went to the front,

reaching the winning post first in 13m 5s., Adelaide four lengths to

the bad, and Sidney about six lengths further behind.

* * * * *

~The~ annual meeting of the Fairmount Rowing Club of

Philadelphia was held last month. The election resulted as follows:

President, E. B. Pyfer; vice-president, J. W. Harrison; corresponding

secretary, J. Watermeyer; financial secretary, L. C. Moore; treasurer,

C. Pressendanz; captain, G. W. Mitchell; Coxswain, C. Tierney;

directors, W. Brownell, E. F. Brownell, C. Pressendanz, N. C. Upton.

* * * * *

~The~ Vesper Boat Club of Philadelphia at its annual

election selected the following officers: President, A. R. Parsons;

vice-president, H. Thomas; treasurer, C. F. Grim; recording secretary,

B. Hooley; corresponding secretary, G. King; Captain, G. S. James;

first lieutenant, G. Hooley; second lieutenant, J. Hutchinson; third

lieutenant, H. W. Mende; house committee, J. Leibert, T. Park; inquiry

committee, F. Munson, G. Hooley, H. Thomas; naval delegate board, A.

R. Parsons; financial committee, A. F. Cottingham, J. Hutchison and G.

Hooley. The club is flourishing.

* * * * *

~The~ Mystic Boat Club of Newark, N. J., elected the following

officers for the year: President, H. M. Darcy; secretary, F. W. Mercer;

captain, F. H. Glaze; lieutenant, A. J. Barclie; trustees, E. H.

Osborne, C. L. Winters, F. Barclie, S. Depue and S. Durand.

* * * * *

~The~ annual meeting of the Manayunk, Penn., Rowing Association

resulted in the election of the following officers: President, J. A.

Maguire; vice-president, G. Martin; secretary, F. Wall; treasurer, F.

Milon; steward, M. McLaughlin; captain, J. W. Caffrey; lieutenant, P.

W. Maxwell; directors, G. Martin, G. Cassidy, F. Milon, J. Wall and M.

McLaughlin.

* * * * *

~All~ previous individual mileage records of the Minnesota Boat

Club have been beaten by Mr. Herbert W. Brown, who rowed 1,135 miles

during the season of 1888 just closed.

* * * * *

~The~ Dauntless Rowing Club elected the following board of

officers for the present year: President, J. H. Redfield; first

vice-president, T. H. Froehlich; second vice-president, Chas. M. Hall,

Jr.; secretary, E. H. Anderson; treasurer, L. M. Edgar; captain, M.

F. Connell; first lieutenant, F. S. Polo; second lieutenant, C. A.

McIntyre; trustees, W. F. Bacon, J. J. Duff and F. F. Burke.

* * * * *

~At~ the annual meeting of the Catlin Boat Club of Chicago

the following officers were elected: President, Charles Catlin;

vice-president, Harry A. Cronin; secretary and treasurer, T. P.

Hallinan; lieutenant, James McCormick; captain and trainer, Charles

Goff. The president and vice-president were elected as delegates to the

Mississippi Valley Rowing Association, and Messrs. Harris, Huehl and

T. W. Reading were chosen as delegates to the Chicago Navy. The Catlin

Boat Club is in a prosperous condition, having a membership of forty.

* * * * *

~The~ Yale Freshmen have challenged the Harvard Freshmen to an

eight-oared two-mile straightaway race, to be rowed at New London next

June. For several years the Yale Freshmen crews have challenged the

Harvard Freshmen, but the latter have persistently declined, fearing

that it would develop material for the Yale University boat. There is

little prospect that Harvard will change her policy toward Yale.

* * * * *

~Both~ the Yale and Harvard crews have begun systematic

training, which will increase in severity as the season advances.

Much is expected by Harvard men of the tank, which has lately been

completed, and which will put them on an equal footing with Yale in the

matter of preliminary training.

* * * * *

~Much~ interest has been aroused among college men by reports

that a race had been arranged between Cambridge, Eng., and Yale, to be

rowed April 14. At Yale it is said that no negotiations had been begun

with Cambridge, but something would undoubtedly be done to bring about

a race. The date announced, April 17, is out of the question, inasmuch

as the severe winter prevents all outdoor practice. The time best

suited to the rowing men here would be during the long vacation. But

that might not suit the Englishmen. Altogether it will be a hard matter

to arrange a race which will be fair to both contestants.

* * * * *

~Intercollegiate~ boating has received an added impetus by the

decision of Cornell, Columbia, and the University of Pennsylvania,

to row an annual race at New London about the same time as the

other ’Varsity races. The plan was originated by Columbia, and on

December 12, E. Klapp, representing Columbia, met T. G. Hunter, of

the University of Pennsylvania, and C. G. Psotta, of Cornell, at

Philadelphia, and an agreement was drawn up and signed by the three

representatives, stipulating for an annual three-mile race between

eight-oared crews with coxswains, to be held between June 10 and 25, on

the Thames at New London, the exact date to be named on or before April

1. Columbia has also been invited to contest for the “Childs’ Cup” with

Cornell and the University of Pennsylvania, but will probably decline,

because great extra expense would be involved. The Harvard-Columbia

race will be rowed this year as usual, as it was only set aside last

year by the consent of both colleges.

SKATING.

~The~ National Amateur Skating Association of the United States

held its annual meeting last December, and elected the following

officers for 1889: President, G. L. M. Sacks, M. A. C.; vice-president,

Gus C. Walton, N. Y. A. C.; secretary, S. J. Montgomery; treasurer,

J. B. Story; captain, W. B. Curtis; first lieutenant, G. D. Phillips;

second lieutenant, H. M. Banks, Jr.

The association announced its determination to hold its fourth annual

amateur championship meeting in the vicinity of New York City, Jan. 17,

and following days. The programme was as follows:

Jan. 17.--220-yards and 5-mile races.

Jan. 18.--1-mile and 10-mile races.

Jan. 19.--Figure skating.

This is what is now arranged and intended, but as the association

has no control over wind and weather, it cannot guarantee a strict

execution of its programme. The committee can only say they will

endeavor to give the contests as above announced. If on either of the

announced days no good ice can be found, the whole programme will be

postponed from day to day until there is good ice.

The events open to the amateur skaters of the world are: Figure

skating, 220-yards, 1-mile, 5-mile and 10-mile races. Gold medal to

first, silver medal to second, and bronze medal to third in each

contest. Entrance-fee, $1 for each man for each event. Skaters unknown

to the committee must submit satisfactory proof of their amateur

standing. Entries closed Monday, Jan. 14, to S. J. Montgomery,

Secretary National Amateur Skating Association, P. O. Box 938, New York

City.

It is also probable that there will be special races at quarter-mile

and half-mile for prizes offered by president and vice-president.

The following is the programme of the association for figure skating

contest. The object of this programme is to set forth the movements

of figure-skating so as best to test the proficiency of skaters, and

in an order that will economize the strength of the contestants. The

movements are arranged under comprehensive, fundamental heads, designed

to include everything appertaining to the art. It is to be understood

that whenever practicable all movements are to be executed both forward

and backward, on right foot and on left. It should be continually

borne in mind that _grace_ is the most desirable attribute of artistic

skating.

1. Plain forward and backward skating.

2. “Lap foot”--as field step and in cutting circle.

3. Outside edge roll, forward.

4. Outside edge roll, backward.

5. Inside edge roll, forward.

6. Inside edge roll, backward.

7. Figure eight on one foot, forward.

8. Figure eight on one foot, backward.

9. Cross roll, forward.

10. Cross roll, backward.

11. Change of edge roll, forward--commencing

either on outside or inside edge.

12. Change of edge roll, backward--beginning

either on outside or inside edge.

13. (_a_) “On to Richmond;” (_b_) reverse “On to Richmond.”

14. (_a_) “Locomotives,” forward, backward, side-ways--single

and double; (_b_) waltz step (not to be done

on the point of the skate).

15. Spread eagles, inside and outside edges.

16. Curvilinear angles; (_a_) single, double, chain,

and flying threes, beginning on inside or outside

edge; (_b_) turns from outside edge to outside edge,

or from inside edge to inside edge, forward and backward.

17. Grapevines, including “Philadelphia twist,” etc.

18. Toe and heel movements, embracing pivot

circling, toe spins (_pirouettes_), and movements on

both toes, etc.

19. Single flat-foot spins and double-foot whirls.

20. (_a_) Serpentines on one foot and on both feet;

(_b_) change of edge, single and double.

21. Loops and ringlets on inside and outside

edges, simple and in combination.

22. Display of complex movements, at the option of the contestant.

23. Specialties, embracing _original_ and _peculiar_ movements.

* * * * *

~The~ Canadian Amateur Skating Association held their second

annual meeting in the Victoria Rink, Montreal, on Nov. 21st, and

elected the following officers for the ensuing season: President,

Lieut.-Col. Fred Henshaw; first vice-president, Mr. G. Geddes, Toronto;

second vice-president, Mr. H. V. Meredith; third vice-president, Mr. L.

Pereira, Ottawa; secretary-treasurer, Mr. A. E. Stevenson; council, H.

M. Allan, W. G. Ross, J. A. Taylor, J. A. Findlay, F. M. Larmouth, W.

D. Aird, L. Rubenstein, R. A. Elliott, F. W. Barlow.

* * * * *

~A race~ for the half-mile skating championship of the world

took place at Amsterdam, Holland, on January 8, between Joseph F.

Donoghue, of Newburgh, N. Y., and Alexander Von Panschin, of St.

Petersburg, Russia. Donoghue fell during the race and Von Panschin won;

time, 1 min. 25 3-5 sec. Donoghue afterwards skated over the course

against time and covered the half-mile in 1 min. 27 2-5 sec. The next

day, January 9, Von Panschin won the one-mile race also. His time was

2 min. 59 sec. The American champion, Donoghue, was second, his time

for the mile being exactly three minutes. G. Smart, of England, won the

one-mile international professional handicap in 3 min. 9 sec.

SNOW-SHOEING.

~Le Canadian~ Snow-shoe Club, of Montreal, have elected the

following officers: President, J. A. St. Julien; first vice-president,

E. J. Bedard; second vice-president, Alf. Lussier; secretary, C. O.

Lapierre; assistant secretary, W. Pilotte; treasurer, J. E. Clement;

committee, L. N. Moreau, A. W. Beauclaire, N. Malette and H. Blanchard.

The club decided to hold weekly tramps to Cote des Neiges.

THE KENNEL.

~New York~ (the Westminster Kennel Club) is out with its premium

list for its February show. The prizes offered for the dogs in the

large dog classes are $20 to first, $10 to second, $5 to third and the

club’s medal to fourth. The next grade of classes get $10 to first, $5

to second and medal to third. The specials are valuable, and include

the mastiff club cups, valued at $600; the St. Bernard club cups,

valued at $140; the kennel prizes of $25 each for the best kennel of

four of each of the following breeds: Pointers, mastiffs, St. Bernards,

bloodhounds, deer-hounds, greyhounds, foxhounds, hunting-spaniels,

beagles and English setters, Irish setters, black-and-tan setters and

collies. The inducements are great to exhibitors, and the show bids

fair to be as well attended and as successful as heretofore.

* * * * *

~The~ committee of the American Kennel Club held a meeting

December 28, 1888, and decided upon the following matters, which are

herewith printed for the benefit of the readers of ~Outing~:

1. The American Kennel Club Stud Book, after the completion of the

present volume, will be issued annually, will contain a full index, and

will be published bound in cloth.

2. Numbers will be assigned upon the receipt of each entry, and will be

published monthly in the _American Kennel Gazette_.

3. Registry in the stud book can be made _only_ upon the following

conditions:

1. Where sire and dam are already registered or are directly descended

from dogs already registered in said book.

2. Where dogs possess an authenticated pedigree, extended back three

generations.

3. Where dogs (not eligible under the provisions as above required)

have won not less than two first prizes in the regular classes at any

show recognized by the American Kennel Club.

4. All entries for the stud book will be published in the issue of the

_American Kennel Gazette_ following the receipt of said entry to enable

the correction of any errors that may appear.

5. The fee for entry in the stud book will remain as heretofore. Fifty

cents for each dog entered.

6. All dogs shown at any show held by a member of the American Kennel

Club, and not already registered in the stud book, _must_ be registered

in the _American Kennel Gazette_, the fee for such entry will be

twenty-five cents.

7. The _American Kennel Gazette_ will be published on the last Thursday

of each and every month.

Yours truly,

~A. P. Vredenburgh~, Sec’y.

* * * * *

~The~ following is a list of the dog-show fixtures for February:

The first annual dog show of the Columbus Fancier’s Club, at Columbus,

O., will be held at Columbus from February 5 to 8; Thomas R. Sparrow,

secretary.

From February 7 to 12, the first annual show of the Hudson River

Poultry, Dog and Pet Stock Association, will be held at Newburgh, N. Y.

J. H. Drevenstedt, of Washington, N. J., is the secretary.

* * * * *

~The~ Detroit Kennel Club recently lost fifteen valuable

dogs that had been raised for stock purposes by a strange epidemic,

resembling pneumonia. Examination of the lungs of a number of the dogs

was made soon after death, and they all bore evidence of the same

disease that characterizes the lungs of human beings who have died from

pneumonia. It seems from information received from different parts

of the country that the mysterious malady is quite general, and not

confined to any given section.

* * * * *

~The~ annual meeting of the New England Kennel Club was held

recently at its rooms, Hamilton Place, Boston. In token of his long

services to the club as treasurer, that pleasant gentleman and

enthusiastic spaniel-man, W. O. Partridge, of Boston, was tendered a

suitably engrossed testimonial by the club. The following officers

were elected for 1889: President, F. B. Fay; vice-president, E. H.

Moore; secretary, J. W. Newman; treasurer, Geo. A. Fletcher. Executive

committee, the officers and J. E. Thayer, Jean Grosvenor, Frank M.

Curtis, J. H. Long, Dr. J. G. W. Werner.

YACHTING.

~The~ Toronto Yacht Club and the Royal Canadian Yacht Club have

decided to consolidate, and after May 15 next will be known only as the

Royal Canadian Yacht Club.

The fusion of these two organizations will make the Royal Canadian one

of the strongest yacht clubs in the world, with a membership of 650.

* * * * *

~Mr. C. D. Mosher~, of Amesbury, Mass., who built the phenomenal

launch _Buzz_ last season, whose mile record is 2 min. 8 sec., is now

designing a steam yacht twice the size of the _Buzz_, but on the same

lines.

* * * * *

~Mr. S. Austin~, Jr., of Philadelphia, has purchased of Mr.

Jacob Lorillard his yacht _Anita_. Mr. Austin paid $22,500 for the

_Anita_, and Mr. Lorillard is now having designs made for his fiftieth

yacht.

[Illustration:

Drawn by A. C. Corbould.

“ONE FAIR PURSUER GOES AT IT WHERE THE HUNTSMAN LEADS.”]

~Outing~.

~Vol. XIII.~ MARCH, 1889. ~No. 6.~

FOX-HUNTING.

A DAY IN THE SHIRES.

BY HENRY H. S. PEARSE (“PLANTAGENET”).

There is a touch of original barbarism in all field sports--at least

that is what our critics say, and I am prepared to put aside all cause

for controversy by admitting without hesitation that there is much

truth in the charge. Nay, more, I am even disposed to know the very

quality that squeamish sentimentalists condemn, and to regard the

spirit of sport in its most ferocious outbursts as the very antithesis

of cold-blooded, wanton cruelty.

If proof were required that the most typical hunting-men are not

insensible to animal suffering, one need only point to their tender

care for horses and hounds, with which they have bonds of sympathy

utterly inexplicable to people who are not sportsmen. A keen, bold

rider may gallop his horse to a standstill in the rapture of hot

pursuit, or put him at an almost impossible leap, staking life and

limb and neck of man and beast against the chance of holding a place

in the first flight, but when that effort is over his hand will rival

a woman’s in the tenderness of its caresses for the noble brute that

has answered so generously to touch of whip or spur. This combination

of fierce daring and feminine weakness has never been more elegantly

expressed than in Whyte Melville’s stirring song, “The Place where the

Old Horse Died.” The man who will jest at his own scars, and make light

of a broken rib or a dislocated shoulder, can be moved to infinite

pity for an injured hunter. But even if the capacity to greatly dare

and stoically endure were only to be attained by the sacrifice of

sympathy with animal suffering, it would, I fancy, be worth cultivating

by any race in danger of overcivilization. Such qualities may be

characteristic of original barbarism, but no nation has yet been

able to find satisfactory substitutes for them. As tending to their

development, there is no pursuit within reach of ordinary citizens in

an old and populous country that can for a moment compare with the

moving accidents of fox-hunting. Very few sportsmen, however, stand in

need of this excuse for the passion that possesses them.

A defense of the chase on high moral grounds would sound to them very

like cant, and a fox-hunter worthy of the name may well dispense with

the services of an apologist. If there be any foreigner who believes

that the sturdy manhood of Great Britain is in danger of being played

out, let him make a tour of the rural districts of the island from

November to March. Taking a map of ordinary scale, one cannot put his

finger on any spot outside the densely peopled cities, between Land’s

End and John O’Groats, and say, “Here is a place where the music of

hounds is never heard!” Every county has its two or three, and some a

dozen, packs of fox-hounds, hunting here up to the outskirts of busy

towns surrounded by networks of railways, and there amid the stillness

and silence of mighty mountain ranges far from “the madding crowd.”

On rugged heights where no horse could find secure foothold, their

loved bell-like chorus may be heard cleaving the thin air and echoing

from rock to rock, with the accompaniment of shrill cheers from sturdy

hillmen who follow on foot from morn to even-tide without sign of

fatigue. These, however, are rather the by-ways of sport, and to make

acquaintance with fox-hunting in its more conventional phases one must

needs follow great Nimrod’s footsteps to the classic fields where Hugo

Meynell, John Ward, Osbaldiston, Assheton Smith, Anstruther Thomson,

and many other masters of woodcraft graduated. Not there will one find

the science of hunting practiced in its highest development; but there,

alone of all countries in the world, may one see the art of riding to

hounds illustrated in every variety of style.

[Illustration: A FOXY VARMINT.]

To describe hound work, pure and simple, with the incidents of a

long hunting run, I should have to take as my theme a fixture in

some remote provincial hunt, where plough and pasture alternate with

deep woodlands. A day with wild Jack Parker, of the Sinnington, and

his trencher-fed pack, among Yorkshire dales; or with Mr. Lawrence’s

half-bred Welch hounds in the coverts of Monmouthshire, or with any

of the Devonshire fox-hounds, where open moors and densely wooded

coombes are the haunts of foxes, wild as their native hills, would

best illustrate the science of woodcraft, and all the minutiæ about

which Beckford, Delmé, Radcliffe, and the author of “Notitia Venatica”

discoursed so learnedly.

We might then begin with the earth-stopper, on his lonely midnight

rounds in storms of snow or rain. Following the track of his ambling

pony, and guided by the pale gleam of his lantern through the mists, we

might watch him as he bent to work under the dripping twigs of bramble

and hazel, or rolled a great stone into the mouth of some cavernous

hole among a “clitter of rocks,” as they say in the west country. We

might learn from him much concerning the dissipated habits of the red

race--male members of which follow very much the customs of men about

town, devoting their nights to feasting or flirtation and their days

to rest and sleep. In regard to the latter, no bachelor of the Albany

could be more fastidious in the choice of quarters. Should a belated

worker find the door of his regular abode closed against him, he always

knows where to seek cozy shelter in the warmest corner of a gorse

covert, or the dry top-growth of a grassy hedgerow. In the spring-time,

when his “fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love,” he is apt to wander

far from his familiar haunts and make his bed wherever the first flush

of dawn lights on him. All these are habits of which the earth-stopper,

in his nocturnal watches, takes careful note, and he knows the exact

hour of every season when improvised doors should be stopped at night

to keep the gay old dog out, or put to after daybreak to shut the vixen

securely in.

[Illustration: THE ROAD-RIDING DIVISION.]

About such details as earth-stoppers and their duties, however, the

merry sportsmen who throng the midland shires concern themselves only

when a brilliant burst is brought to a premature end by the cunning

fox slipping into a drain that has been overlooked. Hunting the dray

of a wild rover from his midnight foraging grounds to some distant

lair is also a tedious detail of woodcraft in which the Meltonian would

disdain to take part, even if he could tear himself from his bed at

the chill hour when our grandfathers’ sport began. There are not many

countries nowadays so scantily stocked that this preliminary to a find

need be resorted to, but in some very provincial corners of the land,

and notably among Welsh mountains and Cumberland fells, the custom is

still pursued. Fashionable midland fields would dwindle to very small

proportions indeed if half a dozen coverts were drawn blank, and the

ardor of thirsting youths would ooze away if they had to watch hounds

patiently puzzling out a cold scent for an hour or two before the fun,

fast and furious, began. Yet their languid regard for creature comforts

is only a harmless affectation after all. The first note of horn or

hound sends the hot blood tingling through their veins, and when once

they have thrown off the cloak of conventional unconcern, it must be a

formidable obstacle that can balk them, and a long run that takes the

keen edge off their rivalry.

If we elect to throw in our lot with glorious Tom Firr and the Quorn;

to meet Will Goodall with his Pytchley bitches at Weedon or Crick;

Frank Gillard and his bright Belvoir tans at Piper Hole, where the

“partickler purty landscape” of Belvoir Vale unfolds a pleasant

prospect before us; or Gillson and the Cottesmore at Langham’s

far-famed Ranksborough gorse, there will be nearly the same brilliant

galaxy of sporting celebrities, only with a different setting. Let us

make for ourselves, then, an imaginary fixture at some centre that is

surrounded by the most characteristic features of all these favored

countries, and watch the gay cavalcades from different points converge

at the trysting-place.

A few farmers, well mounted, neatly attired in black coats and

workmanlike cords, and bearing about them no visible signs of

depression, are first to appear at the meet. Then follow rough-riders

of the Dick Christian order, on raw young ones, qualifying for hunters’

certificates, or queer-tempered animals that need some schooling yet,

though the season is far spent, and many a hard run ought to have

taken the devil out of them. The Leicestershire rough-rider is _sui

generis_, and his exact counterpart is not to be found in any other

hunting country that I know of. Long training has made him amenable

to every form of discipline exacted by the M. F. H., and he is never

out of his proper place, no matter what other people may be doing.

He betakes himself now to a quiet out-of-the-way corner where hounds

are not likely to come within reach of his restive horse’s heels, and

whenever the rush for a start may begin, he will display marvelous tact

in getting clear of the ruck to cut out a line for himself. His nether

limbs have been battered out of all shapeliness by frequent fractures,

so that he seems to have no grip of the saddle, and his hands look too

rigid to yield the fraction of an inch in play; but somehow he has the

knack of sitting like a jackanapes, never off, and he can squeeze the

veriest jade over a stiff line of country.

There is a blaze of scarlet along the lane yonder, and flashes of

white between the thorn fences as the hounds are brought up, followed

by groups of gorgeously arrayed gallants. The huntsman and his whips

are turned out in the perfection of neatness, their breeches spotless,

and every item of equipment scrupulously bright. The twenty couples

of hounds have the glossy bloom of faultless condition, as if this

were only the beginning instead of the fag end of a hard season. And

now the throng grows denser every minute. The master threads his way

through a maze of vehicles and a mass of horsemen, exchanging courteous

greetings with friends or strangers alike. Four-in-hands, tandems, and

smart buggies come in quick succession to choke the crowded highway.

Covert-hacks are dexterously exchanged for hunters. Fair damsels throw

aside wraps and newmarkets to appear in all the bewitching simplicity

of dainty habits, or the more pronounced combinations of masculine

cut, with open coats, snowy vests, folded cravats, masher collars, and

all the latest triumphs of sartorial ingenuity. There is mounting in

hot haste, for the word has been given to draw a favorite gorse brake

not two miles away, and that is a sure find. The February sun-shine

is screened by soft clouds, “the wind in the east most forbiddingly

keen,” and all the conditions favorable to a brilliant run, if only

a stout traveler can be induced to lead pursuers across the fair

pastures that stretch far away to a hazy line of coverts yonder. The

keen-faced huntsman, lithe, wiry and active as a boy yet, gets his

hounds through the thicket of restless heels with quiet coolness which

no confusion can ruffle. Then begins an eager rush for short cuts to

the covert-side, only restrained by the master’s imperative “Hold hard,

gentlemen! Let hounds go first, if you please.” A Yorkshire dealer, who

has been extolling the young horse he bestrides as a wonderful fencer

who does not “jump from here to there, but from here to yonder,” begins

looking already by way of putting these exceptional leaping powers to

the proof, but he will have quite enough of that in the legitimate

course of things before the day is over.

[Illustration: “IT IS THE HORSE IN AND THE MAN ON THE RIGHT SIDE.”]

At length the foremost squadrons are marshaled quietly, in compact

order, beside a five-acre brake--all keeping a little down wind so that

the fox may be forced to break covert towards that inviting stretch

of verdant pastures with its heavy thorn fences, tall bullfinches,

stiff oxen and gleaming brook, brimful from recent rains. If kindly

fortune should take us that way, how soon the field will be squandered,

the faint-hearted follower stopped, and the reckless brought to grief!

There is little danger that hounds will chop their fox before he can

get well away. He must be a sound sleeper indeed if the tramp of five

hundred horses and the voices of his foes have not roused him to alert

action before our huntsman’s “Loo in yoi, wind him, bo-oys!” gives

peremptory notice to quit.

[Illustration: “AND TOPS THE NEXT GATE.”]

There is no sign of movement, however, except where the hounds are

working through tangled growth of sedge and brier with ceaseless

waving of their “rush-grown tails,” as Somerville phrases it, and for

a while no whimper is heard. Impetuous spirits are beginning to be

a little dashed by the dread that this brake may for once be blank;

then a light challenge is heard from a bitch that never lies, and the

huntsman answers with a cheer. To that sound every hound flies eagerly,

and the chorus of their music clangs like a carillon. Another brief

pause, while hearts beat high, hats are thrust tightly down, horses are

pressed up to their bits, and the squadrons stand in severed ranks like

cavalry waiting for the bugle to sound a charge.

Now there rises at the far corner, clear and shrill, a “Gone away!”

that electrifies everybody. Hounds are out in a twinkling as their

huntsman dashes forward with a spirit-stirring “Hoic, holloa,” and

a few short, sharp blasts of his horn. Then the headlong rush of a

hundred horsemen sweeps like a thundering mountain torrent down the

slope. In that glowing stream a few dark habits flutter, and all the

first flight men and women charge a blackthorn fence abreast. By this

time the pack is half a field ahead, rising with ferocious dash, and

skimming like a flock of wild doves over the grass. Three or four men

are down in the ditch, more than one loose horse is sailing along in

gay career, rejoicing to be free, and the boldest riders have to harden

their hearts as they face a ragged bullfinch with a broad grip towards

them, and a stiff ox-rail a yard or two on the far side. Some take a

strong feel of their bridles and pull back into a hand gallop, hoping

by a double effort to negotiate the obstacle cleverly; others send

their horses out at steeplechase pace, riding for an almost certain

fall, but trusting that by sheer impetus they may be able to clear

the timber or smash it. There is a sharp crunching of thorn twigs, a

repeated rapping of hoofs on the timber, a loud crash as one gallant

horse breasts the rail, shivers it into atoms, staggers, and recovering

himself, goes on again in hot pursuit; the dull thuds of some heavy

falls, and then all who are left of the line that swept so proudly

down hill at the outset speed on, a shattered section of their former

strength, but with two dainty habits still proudly holding their places

in the first flight.

The road-riding division has been swiftly scattered in all directions.

One column is galloping hard towards some well-known coverts five

miles off. Regardless of the fact that our fox would have to travel

dead up wind every yard of the way to reach there, these skirters

place confidence in their pilot, who boldly asserts his knowledge of

the hunted one’s point, because he has taken “that very line twice

before.” It is strange how some men, who might go straight enough

across country if left to their own devices, will often follow the

lead of a rank impostor of this order simply because he can ride

like a demon after dinner “across the walnuts and the wine,” and is

always taken at his own valuation until found out. Nobody ever saw

him perform the daring feats he has been credited with, but many have

followed him mile after mile on the “’ard ’igh road,” and kept the

secret carefully to themselves, lest in exposing him they should have

to confess how they also rode the run. Not that one exposure would

abash him much, for he has always a variety of excuses ready to explain

why he failed to get through the crowd at the start, or took a wrong

turn at a critical point, and so had to make up his lost ground by a

short cut. Resplendent in garb of closest conformity with conventional

ideas--a single-breasted coat, long in the waist and with square-cut,

ample skirts, beneath which are just visible the faultless folds of

breeches that fit like skin about his knees; boots without a wrinkle

or a blemish in the brilliancy of their enamel; delicately tinted

tops that are not the fraction of an inch too long or too short for

Fashion’s fastidious eye; a cravat which quaint old Jack Parker would

say “must have been starched and ironed on him,” and a gardenia in

his button-hole--this youth is, from the crown of his polished silk

hat to the buckle of his silver spurs, the perfection of scrupulous

neatness, and the ideal presentment of a Meltonian sportsman; but his

riding to hounds is a melancholy delusion. Conspicuous by the obtrusive

correctness of his “get up,” he is the centre of much misplaced

admiration among the fair at every meet; and, equally conspicuous now

as he heads the torrent that rolls down a lane, he is the subject of

misplaced confidence also.

Once thrown into the wake of such a pilot and fairly committed to a

road, while Leicestershire hounds are flying like swallows over the

grass four fields away--

“Not a nose to the ground, not a stern in the air,”

even you, bold rider, know how next to impossible is the chance of

getting to them again. Like a stout swimmer caught in a rapid, from

which all struggles to escape are vain, you can only float on with the

foaming current, deafened by its din, paralyzed by its force, and hurl

anathemas at the unconscious head of that weak being whose example

led you to plunge into mid-stream. If he had shown the white feather

palpably you would never have followed him; but it is the boastful

funker’s characteristic that he never gives you cause to suspect the

fear that is in him. He looked up to the last stride like going at that

bullfinch, but just then the hounds seemed to swing round a little. He

saw this, and in a second was shaping his swift course for the nearest

gate; you hesitated, thinking he must surely know the country best,

and, having hesitated, were lost.

Let me not be misunderstood. I condemn no man merely because he shirks

a big jump, for not all of us have the nerve or the confidence, the

horsemanship or the quick, resolute judgment to hold our own with

hounds when they are racing hard over a strongly-fenced country. Such

gifts in combination are not vouchsafed to one in every hundred,

even among those who hunt with the Quorn, and he who frankly admits

that nothing would tempt him to put his horse at any obstacle more

formidable than a sheep hurdle may be a sportsman to the backbone,

worthy of our highest respect; but Leicestershire is not quite the

country for him. Only a man’s assumption of courage and attempts to

cloak his cowardice make him and the action ridiculous. Nor would I

for a moment hint, as John Warde once did, the fastidiousness which

marks Meltonians in matters of hunting costume is a sign of effeminate

weakness. A perfectly dressed man is never out of place except in

the ruck; and to do the most foppish youths justice, it must be said

that funking is not their characteristic fault. Digby Collins, one

of the quietest, boldest, and best riders to hounds in his day that

any “provincial” country, or the shires for that matter, could boast,

summed up the exquisite’s character in brief when he said: “Your true

hunting dandy would as soon think of omitting those minutiæ and obvious

sacrifices to the Graces as he would of turning aside from a nasty

place for fear of soiling them; and if he can carry his splendors well

to the front for forty minutes from Ranksboro’ Gorse or the Coplow, nor

fear to smirch them in the muddy waters of the Whissendine, who shall

blame him?”

There are half a dozen of this type holding their own now in the first

flight, from whose doings our thoughts have been for a few brief

moments turned aside. Dandies they are in every detail, scrupulous even

as to the correct length and width of the bow above their boots, and

fond of personal adornment as the bewitching maiden whose white-vested

habit has flashed past them once or twice, and whose presence has

nerved them to all that man dare do. The wiry huntsman, full of dash

and fire for all his fifty years, rides straight as he rode it from

Waterloo Gorse nearly a quarter of a century ago; and the master,

hoping to shake off the incubus of exuberant youth, puts his horse at

the stiffest timber, where nothing but fine nerve in a crisis can save

him from a crushing fall. But neither these nor the hounds, turn which

way they will, can get half a field away from those half-dozen dandies

who charge an oxen as their soldier forefathers did a line of infantry,

and count fifteen rapturous minutes with the Quorn as worth a cycle of

slow hunting in Clayshire.

As the line of chase bends down wind a little, and the bitches can no

longer drive at topmost speed, they are in danger of being overridden.

One youth, more reckless than the rest, lands over a double almost on

top of the pack. The master’s reprimand is muttered in D minor, but

he looks unutterable language, against which the thickest hide should

not be armor-proof. The offending youth, however, speeds on with

unruffled composure, his imperturbability reminding one of another

thrusting pursuer in a distant hunt whose propensity for pressing

hounds off a line the M. F. H. ironically rebuked by requesting him to

take particular care not to jump on one of them, as it was a special

favorite. Not a jot abashed, the youth replied: “I have a shocking bad

memory for hounds, and I am afraid he will have to take his chance with

the others.”

If our fox had held on up-wind he could not have stood before hounds

another mile at the pace they drove over those first ten meadows. But

now the line bends with a sharper curve from the easterly breeze, and

the speed slackens somewhat, but only just enough to let the second

flight up as we find our faces set straight at the brook that never

fails to thin a Leicestershire field. We can already see the willow

trees that mark its course. One ragged thorn fence and two furlongs

of furrowed water-meadow lie between us and the yawning channel. That

fence does not look forbidding; but ride at it carefully, for old gaps

unmended mean that there is some other obstacle beyond. It may be

broad, it may be deep, and the branches droop as if over a ditch, but

you cannot afford to chance anything now. A crumpler here would take

half the remaining breath out of steeds already sorely pressed, and you

will want it all for a bigger effort presently. That warning came not a

minute too soon. The old horse pricks his ears, but his rush had best

be restrained. Sloping ground on the far side tells of a deep drop, and

the horse that goes fast at that will want ready hands controlled by

iron nerves to save him as he lands. There goes one! With just a turn

too much speed put on at sight of a broad ditch and rotten banks, he

spanned the chasm, but that drop was more than wearied forelegs could

stand as they struck the steep slope. A falter, a peck, a heavy thud,

and the rider executes a somersault two yards clear of the prostrate

steed. Now watch how a workman deals with the obstacle. He seems to

go at it just as fast, but by a firm, light feel of the mouth he has

collected his horse for a supreme effort. The impetus is just enough

and no more; the distance has been measured to a nicety; the hunter,

well bred and high mettled, leaps “from the hand” without a pause,

lands lightly as a bird, and like a bird skims on again.

There has been no check yet, but just a brief pause where the fox

changed his course, and hounds are driving on as if he were now only

a field ahead of them. The scent is breast-high and they have no need

to stoop to it. Nor do they throw their tongues freely; the pace is too

good for that. Like cavalry charging with a broad front, they carry

what sportsmen call a good head. At every twist and turn there is keen

rivalry for the lead, as first one and then another flashes out in

front and swings to the scent like a yacht keeling over on a new tack

or a swallow turning in mid-air. There is just a shrill whimper then,

and the whole pack wheels to it as if at word of command. Fifteen

minutes, full of more incidents than can be crowded into the hours

of an ordinary day, have passed since our fox was halloa’d away. The

hundreds from among whose thundering heels the tail hounds had to make

hazardous way as we sped over the first broad meadow, have dwindled

down to a twentieth of their number, and now we are heading straight

for the sluggish brook, which is so full now that we cannot see where

its slimy banks have been worn hollow by the slow curves and eddies of

its summer current or the first rushes of winter floods.

The riding and spurring o’er Canobie Lea was as nothing to the rush

with which men wheel right and left, galloping hard to find a gate and

avoid the water. It is

“No shallow dry ditch, with a hurdle to screen it,

That cocktail imposture a steeple-chase brook;

But the flood-fretted banks tell as plain, if we mean it,

The less we shall like it the longer we look.”

How that “dream of the Old Meltonian” rings in our ears as we clench

our teeth hard, sit down in our saddles and ride for the brook! There

are not twenty followers left with the pack now, and not more than half

of them look as if they mean going.

The quiet, determined horseman who negotiated that last awkward drop

so cleverly (typical of the best man of any country, whether in

Leicestershire or the most remote provinces), is taking a line of his

own, but without any sign of shirking or hesitation. At one point a

light thorn-fence half screens the brook, and he goes for it at that

point, well knowing that the roots of bushes will give him firm ground

to take off from; and as to the sort of place on which he may land,

he is content to take his chance. Catching firm hold of his horse’s

head, but so lightly that there is no perceptible increase of pressure

on bit or bridle, he sends an electric thrill of sympathy, along the

reins. A strong squeeze of the knees, just one touch of the spur, and

they go at it best speed. Like a bullet the good steed flies through

the screen of slender twigs, hangs a brief beat of time above the

glittering water, and with just a scramble where the hollow bank gives

way, is on _terra firma_ once more. It was a yawner indeed--broad as a

Lincolnshire dyke, deep enough to engulf horse and rider, and gloomy as

the Styx. One fair pursuer goes at it where the huntsman leads, and,

thanks to her pilot’s quick eye for selecting a sound place, gets over

cleverly. The other races hard at a bend where ceaseless eddies have

worn a wider channel. The little teeth are clenched tightly, and every

nerve in her slender frame is tingling with excitement. The gallant

thoroughbred shares this feeling, and, big as the effort is, he will

not be balked. With nostrils dilated and quivering, eyes straining

forward, and every muscle at tension, he bounds boldly forward, and

rather by impetus of speed than any palpable exertion of his own, flies

across the broad chasm. It is a hair’s breadth too much at this point

even for his superb leaping powers to compass; the hind feet drop in,

but fortunately find hold on a lower submerged shelf. The rider’s

lithe, light figure is instinctively thrown forward, the plucky steed

has his head, and by a second effort such as the underbred cocktail

seldom makes, he carries his rider safely ashore, shakes his dripping

quarters, and a minute later is speeding on beside the pack again.

On either hand the splash and gurgle of waters tell that somebody has

gone down. In the one case it is the horse in, the man on the right

side, with reins in hand and rueful contemplation on his face; in the

other it is a man in mid-stream, spluttering and gesticulating for

the help of a friendly hunting crop, while his recreant steed, with

sweating flanks and straining eyes, looks over the brink at him.

A minute later hoofs are clattering hard against the unyielding oak

of stiff post and rails, whereat one horse, that has been done to a

turn in his efforts to catch the first flight, rises impotently out of

sticky ground. His knees hit the top bar, which scarcely bends before

the weight, and turning heels over head, he falls heavily on his rider.

Fortunately the ground is soft and there are no ribs broken, but all

the fiery spirit has been pumped out of both horse and rider by this

disaster. Now we cross one of the modern curses to fox-hunting in the

midlands--a newly cut railway--go slowly over the next field, jump the

bank and binders up-hill into a roadway, and then come to our first

real check at the end of twenty fast minutes.

Up to this point there has been more riding than hunting; but what

Meltonian has eyes for hounds, or cares about them, while they lead

the field at highest speed if only they furnish musical accompaniment

enough for him to ride by? Those twenty minutes, full of dash and keen

rivalry, are to him worth all the slow hunting runs ever chronicled,

and the delight of watching hounds puzzle out a cold scent or drive a

fox through dense woodlands where no man can ride to them, and when

only by their sonorous music one can know which way the tide of chase

is rolling, is to him a sensation unknown. At this first check, which

means that either the fox will beat his pursuers or that they will

have to hunt him patiently to death, the man who comes out simply to

ride would fain go home again, were it not that a fresh fox may be

found presently, and another fast scurry give him the opportunities of

steeplechasing distinction for which his soul craves.

There is a popular superstition that the typical Leicestershire

huntsman is very much of the same mind on these points--that, having

got off the line of one fox, he will neither give hounds time to make

their own cast nor complete the work with painstaking science himself,

but will simply fling forward in a half-circle, like an over-eager

hound. That, if he fails to hit off a scent in this dashing fashion,

he will gallop straight to the nearest brake and find a fresh fox,

thereby getting credit for a wonderfully clever cast from those who

have been too far behind to see what happened, or too inexperienced to

know. These things, or something like them, happen, it is true, when

hounds come to their first check before there has been time to shake

off the crowd. A huntsman who could not practice little deceptions of

this kind at times without making either his pack or himself hopelessly

wild, would be as useless in the shires as a hound that had not the

courage to thread its way among hundreds of heels, and slip through the

torrent of mad pursuers when the “gone away” has been sounded. I have

seen such methods resorted to with brilliant success by Will Goodall of

the Pytchley, by Neill of the Cottesmore, and Tom Firr of the Quorn,

when the throng pressed so persistently that hounds had no chance to

hunt. But the perfection of breeding and training is attested by the

fact that, though frequently lifted thus, all three packs will stoop

readily to a scent when they have room, make their own casts with dash,

not waiting with heads up for their huntsman to help them whenever

they come to a difficulty, and hunt a cold line as cleverly as any

“provincial” pack.

There is not much time to “leave ’em alone,” or practice slow tactics

now, for the thunder of road-riders rolls down the wind, and in a few

minutes more the presence of hundreds may spoil all that would have

been possible with a field of only fifty followers. Still the huntsman

will not hurry. The hounds probably know more than he does, and he

knows enough to be sure that a mistake made at the first check can

rarely be retrieved. There is a little feathering and waving of sterns

on the line our fox has come; then a few couples try forward without

success, and then, as if actuated by one impulse, they all swing round

in a wide self-cast. In this there is no flashy wildness, but perfect

steadiness and close work, yet nothing to suggest the style of harriers.

See one hound as he circles round, stops suddenly, stoops to the

furrow, feathers along it for a few yards, and then throws his tongue

lightly. “Hoic to Festive! hoic together! Hurrah for the blood of

Belvoir Fallible!” shouts the huntsman, all animation in a second

at the sound. Every hound flies to where Festive spoke, but they do

not stop to “quest” the scent and make sure of it for themselves, as

harriers would. Each, jealous of honors and striving for the lead,

flies eagerly forward to feel for the line a few yards in advance of

his rivals. So, one after the other, they take up the cry until all

burst out in a clamorous chorus, and speed over the open once more.

Luckily, we are set going just in time, and straight for a line of

frowning bullfinches, where network of thorns to be bored through,

and ox-rails and ditches to be got over somehow, would stall off the

faint-hearted. A minute later the road-riding division in all their

might would have been upon us, but now they are left behind again.

There is a gorse covert ahead, where fresh foxes are sure to be on

foot, and if only we change to any of these, our hunted one may save

his brush after all. But Will, the whipper-in, slips round as fast as

he can to the fox side as hounds dash into the cover.

A red-roan steers away when he gets there, but it is not the right

animal, and Will stops the leading hounds when they come to him. Then

all is silence. But what is that old bitch doing in the dry ditch

beside the boundary fence? Our huntsman has one eye on her, the other

on the uplands a field or two off. Yes, that’s it. Something brown is

stealing along a furrow. The fox has never gone into this gorse, but

skirted it, his cunning telling him that he might thus delay pursuers

and throw them off on a false scent. Two or three light touches of the

horn bring hounds to him. In a cluster they follow him as he crashes

through a bullfinch and tops the next gate. He takes them along as if

they were running in view, but at one wave of his hand when he comes

where the fox was last viewed, they spread out like a fan, own to the

scent with notes of joy, and take us on again mile after mile, their

pace quickening as the power of horses to rise at a leap begins to flag.

A welcome breathing space comes when hounds enter a chain of woods in

which our fox is certain to pause for a while. But here the huntsman

gives his quarry little time to rest. His voice rings out in answer

to every whimper from a hound he can trust, and so they keep driving

straight through for the far end. Evidently our fox is a stout-hearted

traveler, who does not mean to dwell and be caught like a rat in a

trap. He will run until he can run no longer, and then die like a

gentleman. Shall we be there to see, or is the end yet afar off?

The bold first flightman, whose example disproves the fallacy that a

hard rider neither cares nor knows anything about hound work, shall be

our guide still. Watch him as he moves quietly through the rides of

this wood--his eye quick to take in all that each hound is doing, his

ear sensitive to every sound, while he may seem to be noting nothing.

He knows instinctively, though he may never have seen the pack before,

when a hound is lying with the reckless clamor of youth, or with the

half-closed mouth and faint whimper of long-continued weakness for

riot, or when another is telling the truth with hot outspoken tongue.

Directly that last welcome sound reaches him, followed by Will’s

view-halloa, he is out of the wood like an arrow from the bow, and with

the pack as it comes together in the open.

Two fields have been crossed, and we begin to realize that the fox’s

point must be a well-known stronghold of the neighboring hunt where

tree-tops can be seen in the hazy distance; but his gallant effort to

reach it is in vain. We see by the way hounds begin to twist and turn

that the hunted one’s sinewy limbs are beginning to fail him, though

his courage holds out to the last. There is no need to nurse your horse

any longer, for the chase is near its end, and you may push over wet

meadow or deep plough without fear. You cannot override hounds now

or turn them from the line, for see, their hackles are up; that low,

fierce growl means that they have caught a view of the sinking fox, and

the shrill scream that makes every fibre tingle with excitement is a

death-knell.

A minute later the clear “Whaw! whoop!” rings out over the tattered

remnants for which hounds are struggling and wrangling. The superb

young horsewoman, whose daring deeds have put many a bold Meltonian

to shame, is handed a trophy which Diana might proudly hang at her

saddle-bow, for it is the brush of as good a fox as ever led his

pursuers a fast forty minutes over Leicestershire pastures.

It may justly be objected that a run like this is not typical of the

terrific rush as of a whirlwind, the brilliant burst for fifteen

minutes with hounds racing every yard of the way from find to

finish, and the reckless rivalry that goes to make up all that is

most characteristic of a run in the shires. But my answer is, that

these fast scurries are not fox-hunting, and I have chosen rather to

describe the incidents of a run that may be seen once in a season, but

not oftener, in the much vaunted shires; or with the “blue and buff”

followers of the Badminton or the tawny coats of Atherstone; with the

Warwickshire, the Fitzwilliam, the Cheshire, the Vale of White Horse,

or any of the leading provincial hunts.

Of the minutæ of wilder sport in countries where hounds must do all

the work and mere riding is at a discount, I shall have to write in

another article. The happy hunting-grounds of old England are being

rapidly hemmed in by railways and curtailed by the abnormal growth of

manufacturing centres, but fox-hunting flourishes still, and there are

many counties wherein the cheery notes of horn and hound may be heard

from October to May.

SPANIEL TRAINING.

BY D. BOULTON HERRALD.

~Many~ a dog is ruined for the field by injudicious training.

With all the good intentions in the world he trains his puppy to

retrieve, using a stick or a stone, and encourages him to chase the

sparrows in the street, because, forsooth, he thinks that checking him

would have the effect of blunting his hunting enthusiasm when on game.

The result is a dog that reduces the birds to a pulp while retrieving

them, and who rushes about the covert at railroad speed, hundreds

of yards ahead of the gun, flushing the birds far out of range, and

chasing everything he sees, until, exhausted, he is forced to return to

his master and rest.

The following lines are penned especially for the benefit of the

sportsman (and his name is legion) who pursues this mode of training

(?) in the hope that his next spaniel, taught under the rules laid

down in this article, will be at least an improvement on the one he at

present owns.

Before commencing work, remember that you must always be firm but kind,

and that above all things you must not lose your temper with your

pupil. Never give in to the dog; always make him do what he is told.

Be sure that he knows what he is being punished for when it becomes

necessary to do so, and don’t delay the punishment long enough for him

to forget for what he is being corrected. Do not stint your praise when

he does well.

The first lesson to be taught is retrieving. The nearer the puppy is to

two months old the better, in my opinion, for our purpose. Some writers

recommend waiting until he has lost his milk teeth and the new ones are

well grown in, as they say that a dog taught to retrieve before getting

rid of these first teeth is apt to be hard-mouthed in retrieving birds,

etc.; but the experience of the writer has been that if properly

taught, however young, the puppy will not develop that evil habit. If a

youngster of any “go,” he can be taught more easily at that age, though

a dull one cannot be taken in hand so early.

Roll an old and soft woolen sock into a ball, then sit down and call

your pupil to you. Push the ball in his face to attract his attention

to it, making him try to take hold. Then, throwing it six inches away,

say, “Go fetch it, Jack” (as we will call him), motioning him towards

it with the right hand at the same time. If he refuses to pick up the

ball, go to him, and, placing it in his mouth, force him to go with you

to the place you threw from, making him hold it until you have said,

“dead bird!” or “dead!” Should he refuse to give up the ball, force his

jaws open with the thumb and second finger of the left hand inserted

at the base of the jaws, removing it with the right, saving the while,

“Dead! dead!” Never _pull_ anything away, as he will pull too, and a

nice state your partridge or duck would be in were such a proceeding

permitted. He _must_ be taught to drop whatever he is carrying when

commanded to do so by voice or sign. For a sign, hold up the right

hand, with the forefinger erect and the rest folded. Never let him

worry nor mouth anything.

Should he pick up the ball, and run away, refusing to bring it to you,

take him behind the shoulders and drag him to the place where you

were sitting when it was thrown. Make him hold the ball until you get

there, and then proceed as hereinbefore directed. He will soon learn

this lesson. Throw the ball farther and farther as he progresses, and

continue until he is perfected in it.

When he has learned to retrieve the thrown ball he can be advanced a

stage. Show him the bail, not letting him take it, and, saying “Dead!”

place it on the ground and walk away, telling him to follow. After

going a few steps, turn, and, waving the hand in the direction in which

he is to go, say, “Go, seek dead!” Should he fail to understand your

meaning, go back, show him the ball, and, after again taking him away

some little distance, order him to get it and then deliver to you.

When three or four months old, if he is perfect in his other lessons,

take, say, a game bird’s wing, or in default of that, a fowl’s, show it

him, and, putting him out of the room (I am supposing that you teach

him in the house), shut the door. Then hide it where it can easily be

found, and let him in, saying, “Go, seek dead!” motioning the direction

in which he is to quest. Continue this for some time until he does it

perfectly, hiding the wing in out-of-the-way places about the house as

he progresses.

Never let his search be a fruitless one. If he cannot find for himself,

show him the hiding-place, and make him fetch the wing to the place

from which you sent him.

To teach the puppy to retrieve from water after he has learnt to do

so on land, take him, when the water is warm, to a shelving beach.

First throw his ball to the water’s edge (for this work fold some cork

shavings in it), then into the water far enough to force him to wet his

feet, and so on, farther and farther, until at last he is obliged to

swim. This should be gone about gradually, and with extreme care, so

as to give him confidence in his powers. Above all things do not throw

him into water over his depth, as it will only tend to make him dislike

it, and may ruin him for water retrieving altogether. It is well to

make your pupil retrieve sometimes _in the dark_, as if only worked by

daylight he is apt to depend too much on eyesight, which practice must

not, of course, be tolerated for a moment.

The next lesson to be taught is “coming to heel.” When you are out

walking, and he is running ahead, call sharply, “Heel, Jack--heel!”

forcing him behind you at the same time. Should he try to break away,

tap him smartly with your whip or walking-stick, saying, “Heel! heel!”

Continue this until he will come in at once when called, and thrash him

if he breaks away without the order to “hie on” or “go on.” To teach

this, wave the hand forward while verbally giving the order, and run a

few steps onward. This lesson will be easily inculcated, and it will be

to him the most welcome order he has to obey.

Few spaniels in this country are trained to drop to shot or command;

but presuming my reader to be desirous of giving his pupil a finished

education, I will describe an easy mode of teaching it. Order him

sharply to “drop!” when standing beside you, at the same time forcing

him to the ground by placing the knee on his shoulders, and keep him

there for a few moments, saying “Drop! drop!” Then removing your hand

or foot from off him, say “Up!” making him rise. When ordering him to

drop, hold your right (or left) arm erect above the shoulder, so that

in time he will associate the uplifted arm with the verbal command. In

due course he will drop at the signal alone. Do not allow him to get up

until ordered to do so, whether you walk away and leave him or not.

Next take some firearm, a muzzle-loading horse-pistol for choice, and,

commanding him to drop by voice and sign, fire it. In time he will

associate the report with the other orders to drop, and so “drop to

shot.”

Never weary your pupil; stop the lesson before he tires of it. Always

have him alone with you when at work, as his attention must not be

distracted from the matter in hand. _Never deceive him._ It is well to

reward him now and again for good behavior with some dainty of which

he is fond. Use the whip as little as possible; but when you do whip,

_whip soundly_.

And now for the field. On arriving at the covert in which you purpose

beginning operations, order him in; instinct then teaches him to quest

for a scent. At first allow him to range at will to put a keen edge

on his appetite for the work, and do not check him when so hunting.

If he goes too far away, hide carefully and make him find you without

assistance from you. He will think he is lost, and be wary of going too

far in future.

When he begins to enjoy his work thoroughly you can begin to curb his

ranging propensities. If he runs too far, call “Close, Jack--close!”

and should he persist in doing so, thrash him, repeating the while,

“Close! close!” He should not be allowed to range farther than twenty

or twenty-five yards from the gun.

Should he give chase to a flushed bird, shout “Ware chase, Jack!” and

if he persists, call him in and thrash him, repeating the order whilst

doing so. If he springs a hare and attempts to chase her, shout “Ware

fur, Jack!” and calling him to where you stand, scold and thrash him.

He must be broken of noticing “fur” at all hazards.

When you shoot the first bird over him order him to “go seek dead!”

motioning the direction in which it fell. If he cannot find it, go and

find it for him, then pointing to it, say “Dead!” and calling him to

follow, go back to where you stood at firing, and order him to get it.

If he refuses to pick the bird up, put it in his mouth and force him to

carry it to where you stood. Order him to put it down, and praise and

make much of him, and ten to one next time he will retrieve. Use every

endeavor to kill the first bird you fire at to his flush.

After this, “practice makes perfect,” and the reader will in time own a

dog of whose accomplishments afield he may be proud.

LAWN TENNIS IN THE SOUTH.

BY H. W. SLOCUM, JR.

The remarkable interest displayed in lawn tennis throughout the North,

and the increasing popularity of the game, as shown each year by the

multitude of new players and new clubs, have been fully equaled in

the South during the past two seasons. The Southern interest is an

awakening one. The athletes of that section have become aware, only

during the last few years, that lawn tennis is a game which fully

develops every muscle, and at the same time possesses the elements

of excitement and competition which render any athletic game more

attractive.

The Southern Lawn Tennis Association, which was organized in the

fall of 1887, made it a part of its constitution that “no club which

is situated north of Wilmington, Delaware, should be admitted to

membership in the Association.” So we may well take a line drawn east

and west through Wilmington as the northern boundary of the Southern

tennis field; and what a vast field it is! Winter visitors to the South

find the game in full swing in every town from Wilmington, Delaware,

to St. Augustine, Florida. Tournaments are held in the largest cities

of the extreme South in the middle of winter, and the turf is as green

and the temperature even more delightful for lawn tennis than the

Northern players enjoy at Newport where the tournament for the National

championship is held in midsummer.

The enthusiasm of the extreme South has reached its highest point

in St. Augustine, Florida, where a valuable challenge cup has been

offered, to be played for in February or March of each year. The cup

was last year contested for by only a few Northerners, who happened

to be sojourning in Florida, and was won by Mr. H. G. Trevor, of New

York City. It has lately been reported, however, that a special Pullman

car, finely equipped, will convey to the scene of conflict Northern

contestants in the next tournament, to be held in the month of March,

1889. The St. Augustine Lawn Tennis Club has recently become a member

of the United States National Lawn Tennis Association, and the coming

tournament will be held under its auspices.

To reach the centre of Southern interest and enthusiasm, however, we

must travel far north of St. Augustine and visit three large cities,

viz., Washington, the national capital, Baltimore and Wilmington. In

Washington, particularly, the game has taken a long stride forward;

and what place could be better adapted for such a sport? Its climate

is such that the “tennis fiend” may enjoy his favorite game all the

year round. Turf courts can be used as late as December and as early

as April, and during the intervening months practice on asphalt is

sufficient to keep the eye and the hand well “in.” Some years ago a few

members of the Metropolitan Club built an asphalt court on I Street,

and since that time there have been few winters when the court has not

been in constant use. On many occasions the snow has been shoveled

away to afford an afternoon’s amusement. The members of the different

foreign legations have been accustomed to use this court, and during

the past few years Lord Sackville-West, the unfortunate victim of

American politics, was an almost constant attendant, usually as a

spectator. On this court Mr. W. V. R. Berry and Mr. H. W. Slocum, Jr.,

played almost daily during the winter of ’84 and ’85, and Mr. Berry

showed the value of his winter practice by capturing most of the rich

prizes offered at Northern tournaments during the following summer, his

rank among expert players being second only to the champion, Mr. R. D.

Sears. Mr. Berry is almost a giant in stature, and few of his opponents

in tournaments of that summer will be apt to forget his strong and

accurate “smashing,” which was the feature and chief strength of his

game.

Prior to the summer of 1887, tournaments for the championship of the

South had been held on the grounds of the Delaware Field Club, at

Wilmington, that club being a member of the United States National Lawn

Tennis Association, and the tournaments being held under its auspices.

During the latter part of that summer, a few active spirits in

Washington, the most prominent of whom was Dr. F. P. MacLean, conceived

the idea of organizing an association, to be composed exclusively of

clubs situated in the South, and of holding an annual tournament for

the championship of the South, under the auspices of that association.

Up to this period no tournaments had been held in the District of

Columbia, except a few local contests, which had aroused little or

no enthusiasm. There were probably not more than ten clubs in the

city, and most of these were composed of but few members. To Dr.

MacLean, more than any one else, was due the interest which was now

newly excited. His enthusiasm was contagious, and active preparations

were begun for the first tournament of an association which was not

yet in existence. It was decided to hold the tournament in October,

and circulars were sent to all of the prominent clubs of the South,

inviting their members to contest in the coming tournament and share in

the organization of the Association.

The responses were numerous and favorable, and on the 30th of October a

meeting was held at Wormley’s Hotel, in Washington, at which delegates

from the Baltimore Cricket Club of Baltimore, Md., the Delaware

Field Club of Wilmington, and other smaller clubs scattered through

Virginia and Maryland, met representatives of the prominent clubs of

the District of Columbia. A permanent organization was effected, to be

known as the Southern Lawn Tennis Association. Dr. F. P. MacLean was

elected president, Mr. Leigh Bonsal, of the Baltimore Cricket Club,

vice-president, and Mr. C. L. McCawley, of the Columbia Athletic Club,

of Washington, secretary and treasurer. It was resolved that no club

situated north of Wilmington, Del., should be admitted to membership in

the Association.

The first tournament of the Association was successful, far beyond

the anticipation of its promoters. It was held on October 30, and the

following days, at the United States Marine Barracks. The championship

of the South, in singles, was won by Leigh Bonsal, of the Baltimore

Cricket Club, and the same player, with L. V. LeMoyne as partner,

secured the honor of the doubles championship for his club. Washington

was obliged to rest content with second honors, R. B. Goodfellow

securing second place in the singles, and C. L. McCawley and R. S.

Chilton the same in the doubles. The tournament was ably managed by a

committee composed of Dr. MacLean, W. V. R. Berry, and C. L. McCawley.

The prizes were donated to the Association by two prominent firms of

New York City, A. G. Spalding & Bros. giving a challenge cup for the

singles, to be won two years before it became the property of the

holder, and Peck & Snyder presenting two silver cups to the winners of

the doubles championship.

[Illustration: GROUP OF CONTESTANTS--TOURNAMENT OF THE COUNTRY CLUB OF

MARYLAND.

A. W. TOMES. TOM PETTITT. F. V. L. HOPPIN.

A. H. S. POST. F. MANSFIELD.

R. V. BEACH. YATES PENNINGTON. A. L. RIVES.

]

[Illustration: CLUB HOUSE, BALTIMORE CRICKET CLUB.]

The success of this initial tournament of the Association greatly

encouraged its officers. Many of the contestants had been hitherto

unheard of, and some of them coming from clubs located in small

towns and villages of Virginia and Maryland, had shown skill of no

mean order. Particularly surprising was the play of Mr. Abel John

Layard, a young Englishman, and a member of the Winchester Club, of

Winchester, Va., who, during the progress of the tournament, played a

very interesting exhibition match with Mr. W. V. R. Berry, and showed

remarkable skill. His play demonstrated anew that the skill of the

average Englishman in lawn tennis is superior to that of the average

player in this country. It is equally true, however, that we are

approaching nearer and nearer to the English standard of excellence,

and that in a few years our experts will be able to meet the best

players of England on even terms.

This tournament virtually ended the lawn tennis season of 1887 in the

South. Its effect was noticeable, however, in the largely increased

number of clubs and players in Washington and its vicinity. The

officers of the Southern Association were not idle during the winter.

It was determined that the next championship tournament should be held

in the spring, and that the grounds of the Baltimore Cricket Club

should be used, in order that the city of Baltimore might share in the

newly awakened interest in lawn tennis. Early in the month of May,

however, the most active players of Washington arranged a tournament

for the championship of the District of Columbia, believing that such a

competition would develop players who might represent Washington with

honor in the championship tournament at Baltimore.

It is unquestionably true that tournament practice, as a promoter

of skill, is far better than any other. The player competing in a

tournament is continually alert and strives hard to win every point,

while one who has no such incentive is apt to become indolent and

indifferent as to success, in which condition he is little apt to

improve. Two days in a tournament is worth more than a week of ordinary

practice to one who desires to improve in skill.

The committee in charge concluded to hold the tournament on the courts

of Kendall Green, the ably conducted Government college for deaf mutes,

at the head of which is the well-known Dr. Gallaudet. Two tennis

organizations ordinarily use these courts; the one composed mainly of

the college professors, and the other almost entirely of the students,

some of whom have become quite proficient, and are always among the

most interested spectators of any important match played at Kendall

Green.

Having secured these grounds, the committee made the tournament

additionally attractive by adding two events for ladies, both a singles

and a doubles competition. There are no ladies in the District whose

skill rivals that of the seemingly invincible Miss Robinson of Staten

Island; she appears to be in a class by herself among the lady players

of this country, and the only ambition of a majority of her opponents

is to do as well as possible against her; but there are many of

considerable skill, and the entries in these two events were sufficient

to make them very interesting. The championship of the District of

Columbia, in ladies’ singles, was won by Miss Bayard, a daughter of

the Secretary of State, who had often demonstrated the strength of

her game while a member of the Delaware Field Club of Wilmington. The

contest in ladies’ doubles was won by Miss Bayard and Miss Safford. The

championship in men’s singles was rather unexpectedly taken by Mr. John

Pope, who had shown a considerable knowledge of the science of the game

when representing Cornell University in the Intercollegiate tournament

of the previous year. Mr. Pope’s most troublesome competitors were Mr.

R. B. Goodfellow and Mr. C. L. McCawley, both of whom showed marked

improvement in their play. Mr. McCawley, with Mr. Stevens as a partner,

succeeded in winning the final round of the doubles from Messrs.

Woodward and Davidson, and thus carried off that championship.

[Illustration: CLUB HOUSE AND TENNIS COURTS--COUNTRY CLUB OF MARYLAND.]

The success of this tournament and the good play shown did not,

however, appear to materially affect the result of the next

championship meeting of the Southern Association, held on the grounds

of the Baltimore Cricket Club, on June 13 and following days.

Washington was represented by some of its strongest players, who made

a creditable showing. Messrs. Bonsal and LeMoyne, however, who, as a

result of continued practice together, showed admirable team work,

succeeded in winning the double event for the second time, and thus

became the owners of the two cups presented by Peck & Snyder. A new

champion made his appearance in the singles. Mr. A. H. S. Post gave by

far the best exhibition of skill that had up to that time been seen in

the South, and won the championship without much trouble. Mr. Post is

only seventeen years of age, and as his play is not free from some of

those faults and weaknesses common to young players, it was greatly to

his credit that he succeeded in wresting victory from opponents of so

much greater experience. His strokes are at times positively brilliant,

and, though he often shows inexcusable carelessness and an apparent

lack of steadiness, it was demonstrated that his game possesses real

strength by the closeness of the match which he played with a strong

opponent, Mr. Q. A. Shaw, in the open tournament held at Narragansett

Pier last summer. Mr. Post is undoubtedly one of the most promising of

the young players, and the development of his skill will be watched

with interest.

Though the two tournaments held at Washington in the fall of ’87 and

the spring of ’88 did not produce a player capable of winning the

championship, yet their beneficial influence was shown in the improved

play of the greatly increased number who followed lawn tennis as

a pastime. There were about ten clubs in existence two years ago.

There are now seventy, and the total number of players, as estimated

by the “Capitol” newspaper, is two thousand. If a devotee of lawn

tennis, who is anxious to improve but does not himself wish to compete

in a tournament, will observe carefully the methods of different

contestants who are struggling to win the prizes, he is certain to

obtain some hints which will be useful to him and strengthen his game.

Thus did these tournaments result in a substantial improvement in

play throughout Washington. Among the most expert, and among those

whose improvement has been most rapid, may be mentioned Messrs. Oscar

Woodward, C. L. McCawley, John Pope, R. B. Goodfellow, John Davidson,

W. P. Metcalf, and Dr. J. L. Wortman. No list could be complete without

adding the name of Mr. W. V. R. Berry, who established his reputation

as an expert some years ago, and who now appears to have joined the

ranks of retired veterans.

Some few years ago a club, social in its nature, was organized by

several gentlemen of Washington, prominent among whom was Mr. John F.

Waggeman. A clubhouse and grounds were secured on the Bladensburg road,

at a point located in the State of Maryland, but only a short distance

from the boundary line of the District of Columbia, and not more than

three or four miles from the centre of the city of Washington. The club

is known as the Country Club of the State of Maryland, or the Highland

Country Club, and it was designed to occupy the same relation to the

city of Washington as the country clubs of Boston and New York hold

to those cities. One of the earliest sporting features added to the

club was a tennis court, and it at once occurred to the ever active

mind of Dr. F. P. McLean, who was a member and interested in the club,

that this would be a grand place in which to hold a large lawn tennis

tournament. Tournaments for the championship of the South had been held

under the auspices of the Southern Lawn Tennis Association; but it had

been required, as a condition of playing, that a contestant should be a

member of a club belonging to the Association, and, consequently, only

a resident of the South was able to compete.

Dr. McLean knew that the Middle States Championship had been won by

Mr. R. D. Sears, a resident of New England, and that the New England

championship is at the present time held by a New Yorker. He felt that

a tournament for the championship of the South, open to all comers,

whether from the North or the South, would excite general interest,

and would, moreover, give the residents of Washington an opportunity

to witness the skillful playing of the Northern experts, who, it was

hoped, would be induced to compete.

As a first step, the Country Club of the State of Maryland applied

for membership in the United States National Lawn Tennis Association,

with the idea of holding the proposed tournament under the auspices of

that Association. The application was granted and authority given to

the club to hold the tournament for the championship of the Southern

States. This action, of course, placed the National Association in an

attitude of apparent rivalry to the Southern Association. The latter

had already held a tournament at Baltimore, as has been related, and,

naturally, would not recognize any champion for the year except the

winner of that tournament. The rivalry was more apparent than real,

however, as Dr. McLean, the president of the Southern Association,

was one of the originators, and, in fact, the most active in the

management of the Country Club tournament. The apparent conflict and

championship complication will not be experienced in the future, as it

is probable that the United States National Lawn Tennis Association,

whose membership is now limited to single clubs, will at the next

annual meeting engraft into its constitution a clause under which other

associations may be admitted to membership in the older organization,

thus making it a central and undisputed authority in lawn tennis

throughout the United States. Under such a clause the Southern

Association can become a member, and only one annual tournament for the

championship of the South will hereafter be held.

Dr. McLean spent a great part of last summer in visiting Northern

tournaments and extending to Northern experts an invitation to compete

in the Country Club tournament. To each one was offered the hospitality

of the club during the tournament, and Dr. McLean finally succeeded

in securing the entries of several players prominent in the North.

In the meantime active preparations were being made at the Highland

Country Club. A more interesting place for such an event could not be

selected. The club is located, as before noted, on the old Bladensburg

road, about three or four miles from Washington, and one or two from

the village of Bladensburg. The club-house is in the centre of a

large area of level ground, every foot of which is rich in historical

association. On this very ground occurred, in the year 1814, one of

the most important conflicts of the war of that period, the battle of

Bladensburg, and on one side of the lot, close to the main road and

distant only three or four hundred yards from the club-house, is a plot

of ground particularly interesting as being the scene of the many duels

which have made the name of Bladensburg famous.

The club had at this time but one lawn tennis court, and as soon as

the tournament became an assured fact, it was at once decided to lay

out four more. A description of the means by which these courts were

finally constructed will not be uninteresting to one who proposes

to build a court of clay or dirt, the materials used in this case.

September had already arrived, and as it was proposed to hold the

tournament during the latter part of that month, there was but little

time for the construction of courts; but a plot of ground was easily

leveled, a foundation of some solid material laid, and a mixture of

dirt and clay filled in. At this point it seemed as if fate were

against the club, for rain began to fall before the mixture had

commenced to solidify, and rain continued to fall for one whole week,

until the space occupied by that dirt and clay assumed the aspect of

a quagmire. The rain ceased only a week before the time set for the

tournament, and it was at first feared that it could not be held; but

the ingenious idea of some brilliant mind saved the day. An old negro

farmer, with a small army of mules at his command, lived near by, and

both he and his mules were at once sent for. The old fellow brought

his fourteen mules to the club, and they were turned loose upon the

quagmire of clay and dirt. They tramped and stamped over it from

daylight until eleven o’clock at night, and at the end of the third

day of tramping, the Highland Country Club had as solid a piece of

ground as could be desired. A few irregularities on the surface were

easily smoothed away, and four courts were laid out, good enough to be

used by the most exacting of lawn tennis experts.

The tournament was held on Tuesday, September 25 and the following

days, and could hardly have been a greater success. Mr. F. Mansfield,

of the Longwood Cricket Club, Boston, Messrs. F. V. L. Hoppin and H.

A. Ditson, of the same club; Messrs. Ludington and Beach, of Yale

University; Mr. Dean Miller, of New York; Mr. F. W. Kellogg, of New

Haven; Mr. A. W. Tomes, of Brooklyn, and Mr. J. W. Smith were among

the entries from the North, and all of these gentlemen enjoyed the

hospitality of the club. The most expert of their Southern opponents

were Mr. A. H. S. Post, the champion of the Southern Association,

representing Baltimore, and Messrs. Davidson, Woodward, McCawley,

Rives, Goodfellow, Metcalf and Wortman, all from the District of

Columbia. There were in all thirty-six contestants, making it by

far the largest tournament ever held in the South, as well as the

greatest in interesting features. Dr. McLean had secured the presence

of Thomas Pettitt, the professional champion of the world in court

tennis, and also remarkably expert in lawn tennis. Pettitt played

two exhibition games during the week, one with Mr. A. H. S. Post, in

which he successfully conceded odds of fifteen, and the other with

Mr. Mansfield, to whom he was unable to give the same odds, and was

defeated. Pettitt’s game is a model of good form, and delighted the

spectators.

The play in the tournament proper demonstrated that Southern form is

not yet up to Northern, for, as the contest approached the final round,

it was found that the four men left to battle for the prize were all

representatives of the North. They were Messrs. Mansfield, Miller,

Hoppin, and Smith. The final round was contested by Messrs. Mansfield

and Miller, and was won easily by the former, who thus became the

second champion of the South for the year 1888. In this connection a

word or two in praise of young Mr. Post is not out of place. Having

already won the Southern championship at Baltimore, he might well have

refused to risk the loss of that honor by competing in the Country Club

tournament. Mr. Post showed true spirit in preferring to play, and

although beaten in one of the early rounds by Mr. Hoppin, undoubtedly

stands at the head of Southern players.

[Illustration: F. MANSFIELD, CHAMPION, HIGHLAND COUNTRY CLUB

TOURNAMENT.]

The success of Mr. Mansfield was particularly gratifying to those

who have been familiar with his undoubted skill in practice, and

disappointed that he could not exhibit the same skill in tournament

play. His experience demonstrates plainly that “confidence” is a

most important factor in the success of a lawn tennis player. Mr.

Mansfield’s trouble has been a lack of that factor. He has one day

played a practice game of unusual strength and the next been beaten in

a tournament by some player much his inferior in skill, and only by

reason of lack of confidence in his own ability. Sincere modesty, such

as Mr. Mansfield’s, will make a man extremely popular among lawn tennis

players, but it may be regarded as a settled fact, that when two men,

at all equal in skill, meet in a lawn tennis contest, the one who has

the most thorough confidence in his own ability to win will surely be

the victor.

The double event was won by Messrs. Mansfield and Hoppin, but in

the final round Messrs. Davidson and Metcalf, the crack Washington

team, gave a good exhibition of double playing and won one set from

the victors. This brought to a close a most successful tournament,

and the Northern players returned to their homes with a very high

opinion of Southern hospitality. A feature of the visit, which will be

remembered with much pleasure by all, was their call on the President

of the United States. One morning about thirty of the players boarded

a hay-cart, the property of that “same old negro” and drawn by two of

his mules, were taken to Washington, shown all points of interest,

and, finally, invaded the White House, where they were presented to

President Cleveland.

As we leave Washington, with its multitude of small clubs, and arrive

at Baltimore, after an hour’s travel by rail, a widely different

condition of affairs is presented; for in this city the lawn tennis

interest is almost entirely centred in two clubs, the Baltimore Cricket

Club and the Towson Club of Towson, a suburb of Baltimore. Of these

two, the Cricket Club is by far the more prominent. It is an old

organization, having been founded in 1874, but it was not until 1878

that the club, then quite small in membership, leased grounds at Mount

Washington, also a suburb of Baltimore and situated about six miles

from the city, on the Northern Central Railroad. The railroad runs

numerous trains to Mount Washington, and the drive to the club, through

Druid Hill Park, is a most pleasant one.

As its name signifies, the Baltimore Cricket Club was originally

organized for cricket purposes. But after lawn tennis was introduced

as a club sport in the year 1879, that game rapidly became so popular

with the members that the interest in cricket has decreased, a fate

somewhat similar to that which has befallen this scientific game in

our own St. George’s Cricket Club of New York. The rapid rise of lawn

tennis in popular interest could not be more plainly demonstrated than

by the experience of the Baltimore Cricket Club. Its tennis courts

were originally laid out on a part of the cricket field, but the game

became so widely played that it was found necessary, in 1884, to grade

an additional plot of ground, to be used for tennis alone, upon which

there are now ten excellent turf courts. This number was thought to be

ample, but the past season has shown the necessity for still larger

accommodation, and preparations are now being made for the construction

of four dirt and four additional turf courts. A number of improvements

were made during the past summer, the most important of which was the

erection of a large and picturesque club-house, for the use of both

tennis and cricket members. Ladies do not contribute to the finances

or take any part in the management of the club, but become members by

courtesy. A small house has been erected for their use, and some of

their number, notably Miss Bonsal and Miss Latrobe, have shown much

skill in lawn tennis tournaments of the North.

Tournaments open only to members of the club are usually held in the

spring and fall. In these contests Mr. Leigh Bonsal has uniformly

proved himself to be the club champion, until the past summer, when

Mr. A. H. S. Post, the holder of the championship of the Southern Lawn

Tennis Association, captured that honor. The last club tournament, a

handicap, was held in October, 1888, and Mr. Post conclusively proved

his superiority by winning it, though conceding considerable odds to

all contestants. Mr. W. J. Bell and Mr. A. D. Atkinson, both very

young players, won the doubles. Among other experts of the club are S.

Taggart Steele, H. M. Brown, R. B. McLane, Jr., L. V. Lemoyne, Yates

Pennington, and Frank Bonsal. With a total membership of over two

hundred, and a lively interest in sports of every nature, the Baltimore

Cricket Club is perhaps the most prominent athletic club of the South.

Next in importance in Baltimore is the Towson Club of Towson, which

does not boast of so many players, but embraces in its membership a

number of those who also belong to the cricket club. It has seven good

turf courts, and is particularly popular among ladies of the city.

At Wilmington, Delaware, is located one of the most flourishing clubs

of the Southern section. The Delaware Field Club was organized in

1882, grounds were secured and buildings erected in 1883, and the

club was incorporated in 1885. Since that time it has made its mark in

the athletic world in more ways than one. Lawn tennis has always been

the favorite sport of the members, and it now seems to be definitely

settled that the lawn tennis world is indebted to the Delaware Field

Club for the introduction of “progressive tennis,” a novelty founded on

that once popular craze, “progressive euchre.”

[Illustration: A. H. S. POST, CHAMPION, SOUTHERN LAWN TENNIS

ASSOCIATION.]

The club was one of the earliest to join the United States National

Lawn Tennis Association, and in 1886 a tournament for the championship

of the South, held on its grounds under the auspices of that

association, was won by Mr. C. B. Davis, of Lehigh University. Mr.

Davis was thus the first champion of the South, both in singles and

doubles, for he also captured the latter event with Mr. R. H. E.

Porter, of Lehigh, as a partner. An open tournament, held in 1887,

was likewise won by Mr. Davis, but on this occasion his partner in

the doubles was Mr. A. G. Thomson, of Philadelphia. The grounds of

the club will accommodate at least twenty-five courts, and as many

as eighteen are in almost constant use. Out of a total membership of

two hundred, about eighty are active lawn tennis players, and in this

number are included several ladies, the most expert of whom is Miss

Florence Bayard, a daughter of Mr. Cleveland’s Secretary of State. Of

the club tournaments, which have been held since 1883, Mr. W. S. Hilles

has succeeded in winning three, including that of 1888, while Mr. J.

E. Smith was known as club champion in 1887, and Mr. J. L. Tatnall in

1884. Other leading players of the club are Mr. W. C. Jackson, the

present champion of Cornell University, Mr. H. B. Bringhurst, Jr., and

Mr. A. H. Smith. It is now believed that the next annual tournament of

the Southern Lawn Tennis Association will be played on these courts,

and everything points to the continued prosperity of the club.

Looking back over these brief sketches of lawn tennis in Washington,

Baltimore, and Wilmington, we find that tournaments for the

championship of the South have been held since 1886. The following

table gives, in a condensed form, the facts relating to those contests.

TOURNAMENTS FOR CHAMPIONSHIP OF THE SOUTH.

------+------------------+-----------------+--------------------

YEAR. | HELD AT | SINGLES CHAMP’S | DOUBLES CHAMPIONS

------+------------------+-----------------+--------------------

1886. | Del. Field | |

| Club. | C. B. Davis. | Davis & Porter.

| | |

1887. | U. S. Mar. | |

| Barracks, | |

| Wash., D. C. | Leigh Bonsal. | Bonsal & Lemoyne.

| | |

1888. | Balt. Cricket | |

| Club | A. H. S. Post. | Bonsal & Lemoyne.

| | |

1888. | Highland C. C., | |

| Wash., D. C. | F. Mansfield. | Mansfield & Hoppin

------+------------------+-----------------+--------------------

The coming season promises to be a most interesting one to the

lovers of lawn tennis throughout the United States, for it is hoped

and expected that England will send some of her most expert and

representative players to contest for our national championship at

Newport. Let the South, also, send in its entries. Certain it is, that

if the same interest and general improvement as has been shown during

the past two seasons mark the future development of the game in that

section, it will soon be able to send representatives who will win

laurels among the most skilful.

[Illustration: CLUB HOUSE AND GROUNDS, WILMINGTON FIELD CLUB.]

SNOWSHOEING IN CANUCKIA.

BY JAMES C. ALLAN.

[Illustration: THE CLUB HOUSE.]

Snowshoeing is surely one of the most fascinating of sports. To the

uninitiated it might appear strange that there should be any pleasure

in ambling along over the snow in a manner somewhat resembling the

ungraceful waddle of that unornamental bird, the domestic duck, and

with feet hampered by the weight and the inconvenient form of a pair of

ungainly snowshoes, so-called.

To a certain extent our captious critic would be right; the source

of enjoyment is to be found in the accessories of the sport, and in

the knowledge that under him are many feet of yielding snow, in which

he would be helplessly floundering but for the aid of his trusty

_raquettes_.

Then there is the peculiar indefinable charm of the winter scenery, the

beautiful effects of the sunset on the dazzling expanse of snow, scenic

effects perhaps even more entrancing when the pale moonlight casts

ghostly shadows here and there, and brings into brilliant prominence

some snow-crowned elevation in the landscape. I cannot do better than

quote the glowing description which a noted American writer gives of

the appearance of the country over which he tramped on one of his first

excursions on “the merry snowshoe”:

“The mountain rose up behind us, covered with snow. Away toward the

declining sun the landscape spread as far as the eye could reach, with

low white hills away off on the horizon. Between the hills and the

foreground flowed the river under its cover of ice. The red, wintry sun

now low in the heavens, touched the prominent points of the rolling,

snow-covered country with crimson, while the far-off clouds that stood

motionless in the sky were of all the hues of the rainbow, and these

varied tints were in turn faintly reflected on the broad expanse of

spotless snow.”

The snow, let it be borne in mind, is not of the nature or consistency

of that which falls in softer climes; it is so fine, so dry and loose

as much to resemble flour, only infinitely whiter, and of dazzling

purity.

[Illustration: MR. J. G. ROSS, CHAMPION SNOWSHOE RUNNER, CANADA.]

As many of my readers very probably have never seen a snowshoe, a short

description of its form and construction may not be amiss. It consists,

broadly speaking, of a framework composed of a long, narrow piece of

hickory wood, over which is stretched a network of thongs, or cords,

made sometimes of strips of deerskin dried and prepared in a peculiar

manner, and sometimes made of the intestines of animals. This network

is called the “gut.” The hickory rod of which the frame is to be made,

after having been steamed and steeped in boiling water, and so rendered

pliable, is placed edgewise and then bent round somewhat in the shape

of a tennis-bat, with an oval-shaped front, and the two ends joined

together at one extremity and tapering off to a point corresponding to

the handle of the tennis-bat. The total length of the shoe is about

three feet, the extreme width from thirteen to sixteen inches. Across

the oval and fitted into the inside of the framework by mortises, are

two bars or battens of wood, each of them five or six inches clear of

either end. In front of that cross-bar nearest the fore part of the

shoe is an open space, and over the bar a deerskin thong is fastened,

forming an aperture for the reception of the great toe. The thong is

then crossed over the top of the foot, passed around the ankle once

or twice and then tied. This leaves the heel free to move in any

direction; the toe works in and out of the opening in the shoe, and

in lifting the shoe in making a step forward its weight rests on the

toe. When placing the foot down again the toe touches the snow first.

Occasionally the framework is adorned with tufts of many-colored wool.

The size and shape of the snowshoe varies according to the requirements

or the taste of its owner. Some are nearly round and present a squat

appearance; others again are long and narrow, and resemble somewhat in

shape the Norwegian _ski_.

For a tramp over untrodden or “virgin” snow, of course a large shoe

of considerable area is desirable; for racing purposes over a beaten

track, a smaller shoe is used. The regulation width of a pair of

racing shoes is not less than ten inches of gut; the weight, including

strings, must not be less than one and a half pounds.

The Indians and the half-breeds seem to enjoy a monopoly of the

manufacture of snowshoes, and of toboggans as well.

The snowshoe enabled them, in former days, to traverse with ease, when

in pursuit of game or on the warpath, leagues of wilderness otherwise

impassable in the winter season; the toboggan they used as a sledge on

which to drag their provisions or to convey to camp their slaughtered

game.

It is true that there is in use in Norway an implement somewhat similar

to the American snowshoe, called a “_ski_,” and composed of a couple

of long, narrow slabs of wood, one for each foot, painted and turned

upward at both ends. The ski, however, is principally used for sliding

down declivities and jumping crevasses; it is ungainly and awkward to

use on level ground. The aid of a staff, or alpenstock, is necessary in

skiing, and a description of it hardly comes within our province.

“Raquettes” was the name originally given by the hardy Canadian

_coureurs du bois_ and the _voyageurs_ of the Hudson Bay Company to the

snowshoe, and we can easily imagine of what inestimable value it must

have been to these adventurous individuals in their trips of almost

incredible length, difficulty and peril. To the present day hardly a

farmhouse in all broad Canada is without its pair of snowshoes, and

they are generally of the sturdy, old-fashioned kind, long and broad

and substantial.

[Illustration: HOMEWARD BOUND.]

In hunting the moose and the caribou, in the wilder parts of the

Dominion, the snowshoe plays an important part. The crust on top of the

snow is insufficient to sustain the weight of these heavy animals; they

break through it at every stride, its sharp edges lacerate their legs,

and the hunter can follow their course guided by the blood-marks on the

snow. Sustained by his trusty shoes, he soon overtakes the laboring

game, and a well-directed shot puts it out of misery.

But it is in its aspect as a sport, as a means of healthful recreation,

that we have principally to consider snowshoeing. Of late years many

clubs have been formed all over Canada, and in those parts of the

neighboring Republic favored with the slightest suspicion of the

“beautiful,” and of all these the premier, in point of seniority, is

the Montreal Club, founded in 1840, and composed originally of twelve

members.

As Canada is the home of snowshoeing, so is Montreal, _par excellence_,

the leading city of Canada in this branch of athletics, both on account

of the severity and the long duration of its winters, the natural

advantages possessed by the city as regards its situation, and the

widespread devotion among its young men to sports in general.