Yet I confess that, as I began to understand the rules of cricket, I
also began to conceive a certain amount of admiration for the game--at
a respectful distance.
* * * * *
I always suspected the boys did not entertain any great opinion of my
athletic powers. The following anecdote, related to me by some ladies,
friends of mine, set my mind at rest on the subject.
These ladies, it appears, were traveling one day on the London District
line. In the same compartment happened to be half-a-dozen boys, who
were going to our annual school sports. The boys soon began to discuss
the respective merits of the favorite runners, as well as their
chances, and I am not quite sure that a little betting was not indulged
in; but this the ladies did not tell me, and you must never run the
risk of bringing unfounded charges against boys.
Presently a little fellow suggested that much fun would be added to the
sport by the introduction of a master's race in the programme, and
naturally this led the conversation to the athletic merits of the
masters.
Said one of the merry company:
"What do you think of the French master?"
"Not much," said the chorus.
"Well, he is powerfully built," intimated one with a knowing look, who
was, perhaps, bringing some personal recollection to bear on the
subject.
"Yes," said another; "but he is too fat; he has no wind. He would be
nowhere."
"What would you take him at?" asked the one with a knowing look.
"Sixty to one," was the reply.
Some discussion took place, and I "closed" at fifty to one.
Thus was my case settled.
* * * * *
As to the matter of athletics, to which English boys are such devotees,
I cannot help thinking that they are overdone, made a hobby of, and,
like most hobbies in England, ridden to excess. No doubt it is a fine
thing for a boy to have plenty of outdoor amusements; it is good for
him to be an adept at running, leaping, climbing, swimming; but what in
the world does he learn at football, the great winter game of the
English schoolboy? Why do the English so neglect pastimes that would
develop dexterity of hand and limb, and devote themselves to a game
which seems to me to teach nothing except respect of brute force?
"Oh! but it cultivates their powers of endurance," says somebody.
That is true, I believe; although, from what I have seen of the two, I
never could discover that an Englishman was more patient under the
toothache than a Frenchman.
Now, to get bruised ribs and dislocated shoulders in practicing flights
out of second and third storey windows I should understand; an
accomplishment of that kind might be useful in case of fire; but to
what end does all the bruising of football tend?
The game of football itself seems to be the end, and "not a means to an
end," as, I believe, Mr. Matthew Arnold has remarked.
* * * * *
Yet, behold John Bull, junior, on the football ground! The hero of a
bad cause, but for all that a hero; a lusty little fellow, fearless,
hardy, strong-knit, iron-muscled, and mule-headed, who, rather than let
go a ball that he holds firmly in his arms, will perform feats of
valor; who, simply to pass this ball between two goals, will grovel in
the dust, reckless of lacerated shoulders, a broken rib or jaw-bone,
and will die on a bed of suffering with a smile upon his lips if he can
only hear, before closing his eyes, that his side has won the game.
* * * * *
Speaking from my experience, I should say that at gymnastic exercises,
and all pastimes requiring a little skill, French boys are more than
the equals of John Bull, junior. They are better at leaping, climbing,
and wrestling. As for swimming, nine out of ten French boys are good
swimmers. They do not want to emulate Captain Webb's feats when they
grow up, because the object or beauty of such feats as his has never
been revealed to them.
But that is the Englishman all through.
Can he swim well? Then he must straightway swim across the English
Channel; he must outswim his fellow-creatures; he must be the champion
of the world, and have the betting in his favor, until he turns his
gift into a hobby, sets off on it, and, to the entertainment of a few
Yankee excursionists, ends by being drowned in the Niagara Falls.
* * * * *
As for the _savate_, the _canne_, fencing, which all bring the
wits into play as well as the muscles, they, even the last-named, are
very little known or practiced in England. In these most young
Frenchmen are well up, and as for gymnastic exercises they are more
practiced in France than in England, although the English boy fondly
imagines he is at the top of the ladder in all matters athletic.
* * * * *
The craze for athletics has inculcated in English boys the admiration
for physical strength. This they like to find in their masters, as well
as firmness of mind.
It is not necessary that masters should use the former. Not by any
means; but there it is, and they might use it.
There is nothing to inspire people with peaceful dispositions like the
sight of a good display of war material.
An ex-colleague of mine became very popular by the following
occurrence, the tale of which spread through the school like wildfire.
This gentleman used to teach in a little class-room that led to the
playground. One day a big boy of seventeen opened the door from the
building, coolly crossed the room, and was about to open the door
opposite to let himself out, when my friend caught hold of him by the
collar, lifted him off the ground, and, to the stupefaction of the
boys, carried him back through the room, as he would have a dog by the
skin of his neck, and quietly dropped him outside the door he had
entered by. Not a word was uttered, not an _Oh!_ not an _Ah!_ The
performance, if I remember rightly, terminated somewhat comically. The
boy had on a paper-collar, which remained as a trophy in the master's
hands.
It was, as you see, a case of eviction _vi et armis_, by the force
of arms.