Winter Sports in Switzerland

by E. F. Benson

Second-class Test

This has to be passed before three judges, and is divided into two parts—(1) Compulsory Figures; (2) Free Skating. The regulations for them are as follow:—

(1) Compulsory Figures.—Each figure may be marked up to a maximum of 6 points. The marks given for each figure are multiplied by the factor of value for that figure. In order to pass, a candidate must obtain a minimum of 2 marks out of 6 in each figure, and an aggregate of 130 out of the maximum of 234 marks.

(2) Free Skating.—The candidate will be required to skate a free programme of three minutes’ duration.

This will be marked:

(a) For the contents of the programme (difficulty and variety) up to a maximum of 6 marks.

(b) For the manner of performance up to a maximum of 6 marks. In order to pass, a candidate must obtain 7 marks for (a) and (b) together.

The marks for compulsory figures and for free skating must be obtained from each judge. Judges may use half marks and quarter marks.

Compulsory Figures

		Marks.	Factor.	Total
Eight	Rbi—Lbi		2
Change	{(a) Rboi—Lbio		2
	{(b) Lboi—Rbio		2
Three	{(a) RfoTbi—LbiTfo		2
	{(b) LfoTbi—RbiTfo		2
Double Three	RboTfiT—LboTfiT		1
Change Three	{(a) RfoiT—LboiT		2
	{(b) LfoiT—RboiT		2
Change Three	{(a) RfioT—LbioT		3
	{(b) LfioT—RbioT		3
Loop	RfoLP—LfoLP		2
Loop	RfiLP—LfiLP		2
Loop	RboLP—LboLP		2
Loop	RbiLP—LbiLP		2
Bracket	{(a) RfoB—LbiB		3
	{(b) LfoB—RbiB		3
One-foot Eight	{(a) Rfoi—Lfio		2
	{(b) Lfoi—Rfio		2

R = Right. L = Left. T = Three. LP = Loop. B = Bracket.

f = Forwards. b = Backwards. o = Outside. i = Inside.

Here is a remarkably varied programme, and one that will obviously give a good spell of regular work to a candidate who intends to grapple with it. It contains more of the material for skating than does the corresponding English second test, in which only the four edges, the four simple turns, and the four changes of edge are introduced, since this International second test comprises as well as those, the four loops, and two out of the four brackets. These loops, which are most charming and effective figures, have nowadays no place in English skating, since it is quite impossible to execute any of them, as far as is at present known, without breaking the rules for English skating, since the unemployed leg (i.e. the one not tracing the figure) must be used to get the necessary balance and swing. They belong to a great class of figures like cross-cuts in all their varieties, beaks, pigs-ears, &c., in which the skater nearly, or actually, stops still for a moment, and then, by a swing of the body or leg, resumes or reverses his movement. By this momentary loss and recovery of balance there is opened out to the skater whole new fields of intricate and delightful movements, and the patterns that can be traced on the ice are of endless variety. And here in this second International test the confines of this territory are entered on by the four loops, which are the simplest of the “check and recovery” figures. In the loops (the shape of which is accurately expressed by their names) the skater does not come absolutely to a standstill, though very nearly, and the swing of the body and leg is then thrown forward in front of the skate, and this restores to it its velocity, and pulls it, so to speak, out of its loop. A further extension of this check and resumption of speed occurs in cross-cuts, which do not enter into the International tests, but which figure largely in the performance of good skaters. Here the forward movement of the skate (or backward movement, if back cross-cuts are being skated) is entirely checked, the skater comes to a momentary standstill and moves backwards for a second. Then the forward swing of the body and unemployed leg gives him back his checked and reversed movement.

Similarly, the bracket 8 is fresh material in this set of compulsory figures. The shape and nature of the bracket is the same as that in English skating.

The candidate for the second International test has also to skate a free programme of three minutes’ duration. This takes the place, so to speak, of the section in the English test devoted to combined skating, which is not practised in the International style. This free skating is spoken of in its place under the first-class test.

First-class Test

This has to be passed before three judges, and is divided into two parts—(1) Compulsory Figures; (2) Free Skating. The regulations for them are as follow:—

(1) Compulsory Figures.—Each figure may be marked up to a maximum of 6 points. The marks given for each figure are multiplied by the factor of value for that figure. In order to pass, a candidate must obtain a minimum of 2 marks out of 6 in each figure, and an aggregate of 190 out of the maximum of 336 marks.

(2) Free Skating.—The candidate will be required to skate a free programme of three minutes’ duration.

This will be marked:

(a) For the contents of the programme (difficulty and variety) up to a maximum of 6 marks.

(b) For the manner of performance up to a maximum of 6 marks.

In order to pass, a candidate must obtain 7 marks for (a) and (b) together.

The marks for the compulsory figures and the free skating are arrived at by taking the total marks of the three judges and dividing by three. Judges may use half marks.

This free skating is a charming item in the system of International skating, and might, with great advantage, be introduced into the English branch. It is in itself perfectly fascinating to look at, and from the technical point of view it is quite admirable as a test of knowledge. A good programme will contain dozens of turns and changes of edge, all melting into each other without break or pause. None who have seen the free skating of a fine performer can ever forget or question the brilliance and variety of this three-minute free skating. As likely as not, he will make his entry on to the rink in a spiral edge, and before it has come to rest at the centre, start off on his coruscating performance. Rockers, brackets, counters, and turns succeed each other with bewildering rapidity; and all are performed with the utmost ease and grace. It seems impossible to tell where the motive-power comes from, so smooth and effortless is the travelling; you would have said the skater was wafted by some localised wind, or impelled by some invisible mechanism. But before he arrives at this part of his test, he has to skate his compulsory figures, the list of which is subjoined.

Compulsory Figures

		Marks.	Factor.	Total.
Rockers	{(a) RfoRK—LboRK		3
	{(b) LfoRK—RboRK		3
	{(a) RfiRK—LbiRK		4
	{(b) LfiRK—RbiRK		4
Counters	{(a) RfoC—LboC		2
	{(b) LfoC—RboC		2
	{(a) RfiC—LbiC		3
	{(b) Lfic—RbiC		3
Three,	{(a) RboTfioT—LbiTfoiT		3
Change Three	{(b) LboTfioT—RbiTfoiT		3
Loop,	{(a) RfoLPfoiLP—LfiLPfioLP		4
	{(b) LfoLPfoiLP—RfiLPfioLP		4
Change Loop	{(a) RboLPboiLP—LbiLPbioLP		5
	{(b) LboLPboiLP—RbiLPbioLP		5
Bracket,	{(a) RfoBbioB—LfiBboiB		4
Change Bracket	{(b) LfoBbioB—RfiBboiB		4

R = Right. L = Left. RK = Rocker. C = Counter. LP = Loop.

B = Bracket. f = Forwards. b = Backwards. o = Outside. i = Inside.

Now, here is a list of requirements which, when we think of the accuracy demanded by the International style in the matter of tracing, will clearly be too much for any but the very elect. Not only has a figure as difficult as the back-loop 8 to be skated, but it has to be skated with accuracy: the loops must lie approximately one on the top of the other, and the edges that lead into and out of them must be symmetrically laid down. It is this accuracy which makes the International style so hard of achievement in its higher branches; to hope to get through this list of searching figures, it is clear that the balance, the pace, and the power of the skater must be in perfect control. And all the time the appearance of insouciant freedom is there, though all the time that freedom is bound by laws as relentless as those which regulate the tranquillity of the English style. The feats are so difficult that they cannot be executed except in a certain way, just as the ball that spins so carelessly over the tennis net cannot win a short chase off the back wall unless it has been hit in one way and no other.

A further important branch of International skating is the pair-skating, which ranges from the simple waltz-step to the most intricate evolutions. The rhythm and grace of this delightful exhibition is beyond all words; beyond all words, too, is the training and skill which it implies. Every bar of the music which accompanies it has its appropriate movement: it is a perfect song of motion set to the band. But the beauty and swing of it are things quite indescribable; one might as well hope to reproduce the dancing of Pavlova in pen and ink as to convey any sense of it to those who have not seen it. And those who have seen it would very wisely yawn and pass on if they observed a purple paragraph on the subject looming ahead. But thistledown is not so light in a warm west breeze, nor the curves of a swallow’s flight more deliciously unconjecturable than a well-matched pair in this pastime so perfectly preconcerted that it looks entirely unrehearsed. On they drift, gliding, turning, parting to come together again.... Mrs. Gummidge, for the moment, would cease to think of the old ’un, and inquire the price of skates—and knee-pads.

Plate XI

A WINTER HARVEST

Plate XII

CLEARING THE SNOW FROM THE RINK

Plate XIII

SPRINKLING THE RINK, CHÂTEAU D’OEX

Plate XIV

PUBLIC RINK, DAVOS

Plate XV

SKATING-RINK AT MÜRREN

Plate XVI

SKATING-RINK AT CHÂTEAU D’OEX

CHAPTER III
TEES AND CRAMPITS

These great Swiss rinks, the construction of which has already been dealt with, are made for the benefit of the skater and the curler, but wherever possible the curler should be accommodated with a separate rink of his own. Epicure though the skater is, with regard to the smoothness and levelness of his ice, the curler, quite rightly, is even more exigent, and slight slopes of surface and minute inequalities and roughnesses which do not interfere with the skater at all, make it impossible for the curler to have a satisfactory rink. In any case, the curler’s portion must be roped off from the skating part of the rink, for, naturally, no skate blade must make the smallest scratch on his sacred enclosure; while, on the other side, the curler is liable, in the ecstasies of his “sooping,” to shed and scatter pieces of broom which wander on to the skater’s ice and cause falls. Besides, the skip habitually shouts at the top of his voice, and a good stone evokes choruses of open-throated music: thus, if many curlers are shouting at the top of their voices, combined skaters cannot hear the caller, unless he shouts at the top of his voice. If he does this while skating a figure, he will speedily become purple in the face and quite breathless. Also, the curler smokes when he curls, which tempts the skater to do likewise, and for the sake of the rink he must not. For those and many other reasons, the curler should, when possible, have a separate rink of his own, where he can soop and shout and smoke without interfering with anybody.

Now, just as the art of skating has enormously progressed owing to the facilities afforded by Swiss rinks and winters, so too has that great sister art of curling. As in all forms of sport where delicacy or “touch” are essential to success, occasional practice is not enough to produce really first-rate curlers, or, indeed, to keep the first-rate curler at the top of his game; and any who wish to excel must have constant practice, such as Swiss or Canadian winters give him. But Canada is a far cry to go a-curling, and we may put down the vastly-growing number of curlers, and their growing skill, to the opportunities afforded by Switzerland. There, all day long, in a brilliant sun and yet on unsoftened ice, harder and faster than is ever procurable in English or Scotch winters, the game goes on, and I do not know of a single Swiss resort where provision is not made for those who practise this delightful sport.

Into the history of curling there is not space to penetrate, and we must, in a treatise of which the range is confined to the present and does not explore into the mists of antiquity, confine ourselves to considering the practical aspects of the game. As St. Andrews is to golf, as the N.S.A. is to skating, or the M.C.C. to cricket, so to curling is the Royal Caledonian Club, whose rules are the acknowledged authority on all points in connection with the game. It would take too much space to give these in extenso, but the following extracts, with certain notes, will be found to explain the principles and practice of the game, and enable anyone to construct a standard rink.

1. The length of the rink for play, viz. from the hack or from the heel of the crampit to the tee, shall be 42 yards—in no case shall it be less than 32 yards.

2. The tees shall be 39 yards apart—and, with a tee as the centre, a circle having a radius of 7 feet shall be drawn. Additional inner circles may also be drawn.

3. In alignment with the tees, lines, to be called central lines, shall be drawn from the tees to points 4 yards behind each tee, and at these points foot scores 18 inches in length shall be drawn at right angles, on which, at 6 inches from the central line, the heel of the crampit shall be placed; when, however, in lieu of a crampit a hack is preferred, it shall be made 3 inches from the central line, and not more than 12 inches in length.

4. Other scores shall be drawn across the rink at right angles to the central line, as in the diagram, viz.:

(a) A hog score, distant from either tee one-sixth part of the distance between the “foot score” and the farther tee.

(b) A “sweeping score” across each 7-foot circle and through each tee.

(c) A “back score” behind and just touching outside the 7-foot circle.

Note.—In these four rules are contained the complete directions for the marking out of the rink. But as they contain certain terms of mystic meaning, it may be useful to state them in a less technical manner.

In other words, then, you start with a point on the ice, which is the “tee,” and using this as a centre you draw round it a circle of 7-foot radius. This is done by means of a lath or strip of wood with two nails or steel points projecting from the lower face, 7 feet apart. Inserting one of these in the centre you pull the lath round, so that the other scratches on the ice a circumference at a distance of 7 feet. As stated in Rule 2, “additional circles” may also be drawn. These circles are drawn from the same centre, with a radius of 2½ and 4 feet respectively from it. This is done for convenience in measuring the distance from the tee of stones lying within the 7-foot radius, as it gives additional lines of measurement. This whole system of circles with the central tee is called “the house,” and, as we shall see, all stones which, after being played, have come to rest with any part of them lying within the house, may add to the score of the side which has projected them there. Behind the house, in the position specified in Rule 3, is placed the crampit. This is a strip of iron long enough for the player to stand on with one foot in advance of the other. It is roughened with spikes on its lower side, so that it maintains a firm position on the ice, and at the back of it is a ridge against which the player places his right foot before delivering the stones. It forms, in fact, a firm base for playing from, since, if anybody attempted to put down a curling-stone, while standing on the ice itself, with sufficient velocity to make it slide over the 42 yards to the other tee, he would quite certainly slip and put himself down instead. It is from a crampit that almost all curlers nowadays play. As an alternative they may use what is in the rule called a “hack,” which is a small iron contrivance fixed to the boot, and which answers the same purpose as a crampit. But it is not, in Switzerland anyhow, often seen, for it requires adjustment for each individual player, whereas the crampit fits all alike.

Now this arrangement of hog-score (usually called “the hog”), back score, sweeping score, “house” and crampit (or hack), scratched in the ice according to these directions, completes the construction of one end of the rink. At the other end a similar construction is made in alignment, the centre of the two houses being 39 yards from one another. Here is the rink ready for play, and the rest of the rules deal entirely with the game itself.

Note.—Now I have before me the Rules of the Royal Caledonian Curling Club of 1911-1912, which, I believe, are the latest. But neither there nor elsewhere can I find the slightest allusion to the principles of scoring at the game, foreknowledge of which is probably assumed. But since it is possible that there are those who do not know how the score is made, it is well to state it. Briefly, then, the stone which, at the end of a “head” or “end” of the match (which is made up by every player having had his turn, and having played his two stones), lies nearest to the tee counts one point to the side to which the stone belongs, given that it or any part of it lies within the house. If the stone that lies next nearest to the tee belongs to the same side it counts one also; so also does the next nearest and the next nearest and the next nearest, provided they are all in the house and belong to the same side. But if, after the stone lying nearest to the tee, the next nearest belongs to the opposing side, the first-named counts one, but this second stone takes precedence of all others lying in the house, and the side that owns the nearest one counts one only. Supposing there are two stones which, after measurement, are found to lie exactly equidistant from the tee, the head or end is a draw, and is like a halved hole at golf.

5. All matches shall be of a certain number of heads or shots or by time as may be agreed on, or as fixed by an umpire at the outset....

6. Every rink of players shall be composed of four a side, each using two stones, and no player shall wear boots, tramps, or sandals with spikes or other contrivances which shall break or damage the surface of the ice. The rotation of play observed during the first head of a match shall not be changed.

Note.—Players are usually shod with “gouties.” These are cloth overshoes with india-rubber soles, and are put on over the boot. What is required is (by the rule) something that will not injure the ice, while the player for his own sake will wear something that enables him to run with the stone he is sweeping with the least possible risk of falling down. On the whole, rubber-soled footgear is the best.

7. The skips opposing each other shall settle, by lot or in any other way they may agree upon, which party shall lead at the first head, after which the winners of the preceding head shall do so.

Note.—The head, as already stated, consists of the projection of sixteen stones from one crampit towards the house at the other end of the rink, for each player puts down two stones, and there are eight players. Then when all have played the head is complete, the score is recorded, and the next head is played from the crampit behind the house into which they have just been playing. They “cross over,” that is to say, to the other end of the rink.

The skips (short for skippers) are the captains of the opposing sides. They have complete control of their sides, and direct each player (with due regard for his capabilities) what shot he is to play for. The skips “toss up” who shall have the choice of beginning (stones being played by opposing sides alternately), and the side which scores at the first head takes the honour (as at golf) at the second head. If neither side scores (the head being halved) the honour remains as it was. It may be noted also that though in regular matches (as stated in Rule 5) the number of heads to be played is settled beforehand, in an ordinary friendly game it is more usual merely to see how time is going when play has been in progress a couple of hours or so, and then determine how many more heads shall be played.

8. All curling-stones shall be of a circular shape. No stone, including handle and bolts, shall be of a greater weight than 44 lb. imperial, or of greater circumference than 36 inches, or of less height than one-eighth part of its greatest circumference.

Note.—The stones, then, are great granite buns with a handle to project them by. The usual weight is from about 36 to 40 lb., and the reason why a limit is given to their weight is that people like Mr. Sandow could doubtless deliver stones which weighed as much as grand pianos. These could not be shifted by lighter granite buns, which would merely recoil from them. Two or three of them would also fill up the greater part of the fairway of the rink.

9. No stone shall be substituted for another (except under Rules 10 and 14) after the match has begun, but the sole of a stone may be reversed at any time during a match, provided the player is ready to play when his turn comes.

Note.—The question of the reversing of stones is dealt with later in the practical part of this essay. For the moment it is sufficient to say that one side of the stone is very highly polished, the other less so. When the stone is put down on its highly polished (or “keen”) side, it will, of course, with the same initial velocity travel further than if put down on its rougher (or “dour”) side, the friction on the ice being less.

10. Should a stone be broken, the largest fragment shall be considered in the game for that head—the player being entitled to use another stone or another pair during the remainder of the match.

11. All stones which roll over, or come to rest on their sides or tops, shall be removed from the ice.

Note.—So weird a phenomenon seems impossible, but then curlers are very weird also. Incredible as it may sound, it is quite possible to put down one of these great granite buns with the handle in the centre of its top crust so unevenly that, after a drunken wobble or two, it turns right over amid howls and shouts and execrations. Probably you could not do it if you tried, any more than you could cut a golf-ball smartly to square leg when you mean to go quite straight. But these distressing feats are known to occur, without the player having had the smallest desire to accomplish them. The traditional penalty for thus mishandling a stone is “drinks all round.” The present writer has never seen a stone come to rest on its side, but “credit, quia impossibile.”

13. Players, during the course of each head, shall be arranged along the sides, but well off the centre of the rink.... Skips only shall be entitled to stand within the seven-foot circle.

14.... Should a player play a wrong stone, any of the players may stop it while running; but if the mistake is not noticed till the stone is at rest, the stone which ought to have been played shall be put in its place, to the satisfaction of the opposing skip.

16. The sweeping shall be under the direction and control of the skips. The player’s party may sweep the ice from the hog score next the player to the tee, and any stone set in motion by a played stone may be swept by the party to which it belongs. When snow is falling or drifting, the player’s party may sweep the ice from tee to tee.... Both skips have equal rights to clean and sweep the ice behind the tee at any time, except when a player is being directed by his skip....

Note.—The all-important question of sweeping is dealt with later. The principle at the base of the rule is that a player’s side may encourage (or not) his stone to proceed, but the other side may not interfere with it in any way at all. In accordance with this principle is the direction that says that if a stone during its course moves a stone belonging to the other side, that stone may be swept or left alone at the option of the other side.

17. (a) If in sweeping or otherwise a running stone is marred by any of the party to which it belongs, it may, in the option of the opposing skip, be put off the ice; but if by any of the adverse party, it may be placed where the skip of the party to which it belongs shall direct....

(b) Should any played stone be displaced before the head is reckoned, it shall be placed as nearly as possible where it lay....

18. No measuring of shots shall be allowed previous to the termination of the head.

19. The skip shall have the exclusive regulation and direction of the game for his rink, and may play last stone or any part of the game he pleases.... When his turn to play comes, he shall select one of the players to act as skip in his place.

22. Every stone shall be eligible to count which is not clearly outside the seven-foot circle. Every stone which does not clear the hog-score shall be a hog, and must be removed from the ice.... Stones passing the back-score, and lying clear of it, must be removed from the ice, as also any stone which in its progress touches the swept snow on either side the rink.

Note.—Thus there is only a certain portion of the ice on which stones may remain during the progress of each “end” or “head.” If a player sends down a stone too weakly so that it does not reach the hog-score, or so crookedly that it goes into the swept snow at the side of the rink, or so strongly that it passes over the back-score, it is at once removed from the ice. But, strangely enough, it is nowhere laid down what the breadth of a rink should be. Somewhat pathetically this rule presupposes that there is always “swept snow” at the side of the rink, which, happily, is not the case. As a matter of fact the space allowed for each rink is, roughly speaking, about 20 feet, though I am not aware that it is laid down authoritatively anywhere. In any case a stone, to be of the slightest use, must be lying not so wide as 10 feet (lateral measurement) from the tee, and those lying wider, as well as those which have definitely passed beyond the back-score, cannot conceivedly come into play, and so may as well be removed. But the case is different with stones lying short of the hog-score, and in a straight line between the tees. Such stones, as will be readily understood, might possibly be of the utmost value to guard other stones lying in the house, and perhaps to be promoted into possible scorers. A guard, then, which is so important an item, must be put down with some skill, and with requisite strength, and thus it is laid down that stones lying short of the hog are considered not to have been sufficiently skilfully played to take part in the game and be of value to their side. These are therefore ignominiously removed.

Here, then, have been given the conditions under which, and the court, so to speak, in which, this great game is played, and we will suppose ourselves on the fast, perfect ice of a Swiss resort on a sunny morning. The skips have “picked up” their sides; every player has a broom or “besom,” which we will hope sweeps clean; the four players on each side, namely No. 1 as lead, No. 2, No. 3, and No. 4, have had their places allotted to them. As a general rule it is the skip who plays in the most difficult place—i.e. No. 4, where, if the other three players under their skip’s direction have built up an interesting house, he will have the most delicate and hazardous shots to negotiate. But it sometimes happens that the skip, who primarily should be chosen because of his knowledge of the game, may not have the requisite skill of hand for that post: it may happen that a player on his side is a finer performer in the delivery of his stones, though his skill in tactics and generalship may be inferior. In such a case the skip, who directs the place of each player, may put himself in another position, and, if he does not play as No. 4, will usually lead. Then he goes first, and can devote a mind, untroubled by the thought of the shots he will himself have to play, to the tactics of his campaign. But, as a rule, the player with the best knowledge of the game is usually the best player also, or, at any rate, is good enough for the critical post of No. 4, and in general the skip occupies that position.

Round about the crampit, behind the back-score, are ranged the sixteen stones which the players have selected, and if they are wise they will have turned them momentarily upside down, so that they rest on their handles on the ice, and their bases, or soles, are exposed to the rays of the sun. This should be done because it often happens that some fragment of broom or some little congelation of frost has frozen on to the soles, which will impede their smooth passage down the rink. But if they are slightly warmed like this, a polish on the side of the besom or on the glove will ensure their being quite free from any such impediment. In order to identify the stones of each side, it is usual to tie some fragment of ribbon to the handles or otherwise distinguish the stones of one side from those of the other, since without some such mark they are as alike as sheep, and, as is obvious, the whole game depends on the relative position of the stones of one side as opposed to that of the stones of the other. But if one side is “ribbons” and the other “plain” the skip sees at a glance, even when the house is growing most populous and complicated, how his enemies lie and what is the position of his own stones.

The skips, then, take up their positions by the house into which the stones are about to be played. Only one skip, as laid down by the rules, may be in the house at any given moment, and that skip is the skip of the player then delivering his stone. The other skip stands outside and behind the house, but ready, if the stone of his opposing side has been put down too strongly, to sweep it out of the house when it has once passed the tee. Till it reaches the tee he may not interfere with it in any way, but once past that he may (and certainly will) polish the surface of the ice over which it is going to travel for all he is worth, so as to assist it in passing through the house altogether and so be taken off the ice. If, on the other hand, his side has the house, he stands inside the house, or in front of it, calls out how he wants the stone laid, and holds his broom as a mark on to which the player is to aim his stone. On that mark the player, if he hopes to deliver a successful stone, must fix his eye with the hungry steadfastness with which he has to look at his ball at golf.

Then, in order to grasp the hang of the game, we, the invisible spectators, must leave the skip with the besom pointing on to the ice and observe the other players. Down the rink they are ranged, No. 2 of one side opposite No. 2 of the other, No. 3 opposite No. 3, leaving the centre of the ice, the “howe-ice,” as it is called, clear for the passage of the stones. Thus to No. 1, who is about to deliver his stone, the whole of the house with its seven foot radius is unimpeded. Just outside that empty riband of ice, so soon to ring with the sliding stones, stand No. 2 and No. 3, his own No. 2 and No. 3 on one side, the inimical No. 2 and No. 3 on the other. His own side should be alert for any direction from the motionless skip; the other side are sublimely indifferent, for they may not interfere with the course of his stone.

He delivers the stone: the skip, eagle-eyed, watches the pace of it. It may seem to him to be travelling with sufficient speed to reach the spot at which he desires it should rest. In this case he says nothing whatever, except probably “Well laid down.” Smoothly it glides, and in all probability he will exclaim “Not a touch”: or (if he is very Scotch, either by birth or by infection of curling) “not a cow” (which means not a touch of the besom). On the other hand he may think that it has been laid down too weakly and will not get over the hog-line. Then he will shriek out, “Sweep it; sweep it” (or “soop it; soop it”) “man” (or “mon”). On which No. 2 and No. 3 of his side burst into frenzied activity, running by the side of the stone and polishing the surface of the ice immediately in front of it with their besoms. For, however well the ice has been prepared, this zealous polishing assists a stone to travel, and vigorous sweeping of the ice in front of it will give, even on very smooth and hard ice, several feet of additional travel, and a stone that would have been hopelessly hogged will easily be converted into the most useful of stones by diligent sweeping, and will lie a little way in front of the house where the skip has probably directed it to be. If he is an astute and cunning old dog, as all skips should be, he will not want this first stone in the house at all; in fact, if he sees it is coming into the house, he will probably say “too strong.” Yet, since according to the rules only stones inside the house can count for the score, it seems incredible at first sight why he should not want every stone to be there. This “inwardness” will be explained later.

No. 1 of the other side delivers his stone: No. 1 of the first side delivers his second stone, and No. 1 of the opposing side delivers his second stone. And from this moment the whole problem of the game becomes as complicated and interesting, given that the stones perform something like that which is required of them, as does a game of chess when the first four or five moves of a recognised gambit have been played and countered. Even at so early a period of a head at curling, the possibilities of its subsequent development are almost infinite; the building up of the house may progress in a hundred different ways, and it will be possible only to consider only one or two of the problems with which the skip is confronted.

In actual “moves,” what has happened is this: the leads (No. 1) of each side have played their stones, and No. 2 on each side go up to the crampit for their turn. No. 3 on each side thereupon moves towards the crampit, while No. 1 on each side becomes the sweeper nearest the house, so that each stone as it comes down the ice may have its sweeper ready if sweeping is ordered. No. 3 (when No. 2 is playing) is nearest No. 2: he dances sideways along the ice ready to sweep if the order comes, until he delivers the stone into the keeping of No. 1, who has just played. Often, if sweeping is an urgent necessity, both he and No. 1 will vigorously scour in front of the progressing stone, since often in the ensuing situations it is not a question of additional feet that are required, but of an inch or two. There may be a stone in the house already, and it is doubtful whether an opposing stone has “legs” or vitality enough just to pass it, and thus lie nearer to the tee. In such a case all possible assistance must be rendered it; the skip will career wildly out of his house and join No. 3 and No. 1 in their operations. Anything, anything to give this dying stone an inch more of travel!... Also, a stone with smooth ice in front of it will travel more directly, that is with less curl upon it, as it is becoming moribund, than a stone which has the infinitesimal fractions of tiny frost-flower or moisture to encounter. But that opens up the awful question of “handle.”... There will be something about that in its appropriate place.

But here, at any rate, we have the rink moving. Slow stones are being encouraged to cross the hog, or to enter the house, or, even at this early stage, to cannon rudely against the stones already in the house which must be ejected. Theoretically, I think, in the ideal game of curling, which we shall never see on this side of the grave, the leads should have laid down four stones a little in front of the house, or perhaps each lead should first have put down a stone in front of the house, and then delivered their second stones with in-handle or out-handle, round their first stones, which thus become guards of their second stones, which should lie, say, in the four-foot circle. But we need not consider so perfect an opening. If any leads led like that, they would be skips of a team of archangels, who would be soundly rated for their clumsy play.

As a matter of fact, what usually happens in a good team is this sort of thing. The first man to play miscalculates the speed of the ice (though he is quite a good player) and is soundly hogged. His opposing No. 1, being too frightfully intelligent, and profiting by that which he has seen, puts down a stone that passes the tee, and rests perhaps in the seven-foot circle beyond it. And though that stone for the moment “counts”: that is to say it is in the house, and, theoretically, may be a winner, it will not in real practice be of any good when the head is finished. There is bound to be a better stone than that, and any other stone over the hog that lies in front of the house, though not counting at present, is far superior, for it can be promoted (i.e. brought nearer the tee) by any stone that strikes it, whether of its own side or of the enemy, and thus is both dangerous to the other side and helpful towards its own. Also it can become the most valuable guard for a stone that has curled round it and lies in the house and behind it, whereas the stone that comes to rest beyond the tee can, if struck, only travel further away from the tee instead of towards it.

The two leads put down their second stones. They have gauged the speed of the ice, and this time do as their skip tells them. They both put down stones that come to rest just in front of the house, or perhaps just in it. But if either of them make what would be the most perfect shot of all, if they were playing the last shot of No. 4, namely one that rests on the tee itself, or in the 2½-foot circle (called the pot-lid), he has not done probably as much for his side as if he had laid his stone just in front of the house, for No. 2 of the other side follows, and he has only to be straight irrespective of too great speed to dislodge that perfect stone and in all probability lie there himself. A guarded stone in such a position is the most valuable stone that can be imagined, but without a guard its worth is enormously decreased. Indeed it is positively a dangerous stone, since it gives the other side something to rest on.

We will suppose, then, that when No. 2 plays there are lying on the ice two stones, both a little in front of the house, one right in the middle of the ice, the other three or four feet to the side of it. The object now will probably be to get past those stones, and, by the twist imparted to the stone No. 2 now delivers, to lie behind one or other of them in the house, and thus be guarded. If this shot is perfectly played there will be lying a stone close up to the tee and incapable of being directly attacked (i.e. by a hard shot played down straight on to it), for the guarding stone in front of the house prevents this, and it is a very different thing to be obliged to play round this guarding stone so as to hit the other. Thus it may be necessary for the opposing skip to direct that this guard should be removed by a fast straight stone, so as to open up the house again. But this costs a stone, even if successful, and stones are not lightly to be squandered. Should this shot come off, the first skip will probably direct that another guard be laid to protect this asset in the house. Having once got a stone in a probably winning position, the skip is right to guard it and to guard it and to guard it, directing that stones should be laid to right and left of it, so as to block the passage of a stone which, by curling inwards or outwards, can reach and dislodge it, and perhaps lie there in its place. Practically speaking, a stone which lies close to the tee should be guarded at the cost of every stone belonging to the side if necessary (i.e. if the guards are being removed by the enemy), and no skip in his senses will direct his player to put other stones in the house until he has rendered reasonably secure from attack the stone of his which lies close to the tee.

The above analysis of these early stones takes, of course, only one case out of the hundred ways in which they may lie, and gives but one instance of the value of stones lying in front of the house, rather than (in the early stages of the game) in the house. Among other values they possess they are also capable of being promoted—i.e. a subsequent player may be directed to hit one of them gently, so as to push it into the house, while his will lie there in its place guarding it. Or he may be told, if the stone in question is lying rather wide, to get an inwick off it—i.e. play on to the inner side of it, as in the manner of a half-ball shot at billiards, and, cannoning off it, slip into the house himself. Perhaps it will be an enemy’s stone selected for this manœuvre, and perhaps, also, he will hit the wrong side of it (i.e. the outer side), and instead of slipping into the house himself, will kindly promote the other stone instead. Thus these stones in front of the house are both an asset and a danger, and it is not too much to say that their presence, lying there, is about the largest constituent in the interest of the “end” and the building of the house. They present, as has been seen, infinite possibilities of value and menace. And all their terrific potentialities have to be weighed and pondered by the skip.

When twelve stones have been put down (i.e. when the first three players on each side have contributed two each) the skips, if playing four, leave the house and go down to the crampit to deliver their stones. One in all probability looks troubled, the other in that case will almost certainly wear a face of benignant elation and call attention to the beauty of the morning. Their places in the house to direct and hold the guiding besom are taken by other members of their side (probably the No. 3s), and before they go they will almost certainly hold a secret and muttered conversation with these gentlemen, consulting and conferring over the shots to be attempted. For by this time the situation, if the play has been respectable, is sure to have become complicated. Very likely four or five stones are in the house, and of those four or five all but one may happen to belong to one side. But that one is sitting there on the very tee itself, and thus takes precedence of all the others. If only it could be got at and evicted and soundly butted out of the house, the other four would all count. But it lies well guarded, for just in front of the house are two stones a little to right and left of it. There is clear ice (a “port” as it is called) of not more than two feet between them, through which it is possible to send a stone that will reach that tee-sitter. But, oh, how small a two-foot port looks at the distance of nearly forty yards!

Now, it is to the first skip that this by-every-means-in-his-power-to-be-guarded stone belongs, and with justice he fears that his opposing skip is perfectly capable of sailing blandly through that rather narrow port, butting the stone that lies so perfectly on the tee out of the house altogether, and lying there himself instead. So he has elected to play a shot that will close up that port and leave the stone on the tee for the moment impregnable. He wants to lie just over the hog and no more, for the nearer a stone is to the hog the more it blocks the passage. So, calling on his sweepers to be ready to sweep (“Sweepers wake!” in fact), he puts down his stone with in-handle on it, directing this a little

“SHE LIES”

From the Drawing by Fleming Williams

wide of the left-hand stone of those two guards, by which the temporary skip is holding his besom. For one moment he watches its passage, eyes glued to it, stricken to stone. Suddenly an awful misgiving occurs to him, his face turns to a perfect mask of agonised fury, and he yells at the top of a naturally powerful voice:

“Sweep her, don’t leave her for a moment. Sweep! Sweep! Don’t leave her. Good Lord, can’t you sweep? Oh, well swept, well swept indeed!”

Then probably with infernal superiority he shouts, “Is that about where you wanted it?” knowing perfectly well that it is.

All this means that

(i) He was afraid he had put down his stone too weakly, and that it would not get over the hog.

(ii) It would then be ignominiously removed, and he would wish he had never been born.

(iii) The opposing skip would sail through that port, and out the winning stone.

(iv) That it is all his fault, and that he will never curl again, but take to that degraded pastime, skating.

(v) Finally, that his stone has been swept over the hog and lies now bang in the middle of the passage, closing it completely—a perfect gem, pearl, peach.

Says the other skip grimly, “You’ve got some good sweepers on your side.”

Says the first skip (airily and forgetting that he has been howling to his side to sweep), “Oh, it had lots of legs.” (Liar: it is just over the hog.)

Ensues a shouted colloquy between the other skip and his lieutenant (No. 3) in the house.

No. 3. Can you see anything of the port?

Skip 2. No.

No. 3. Can you see anything of the stone that lies?

Skip 2. No.

(Skip 1 here probably lights a pipe and talks gaily to a friend.)

No. 3. Can you get round their guard with out-handle?

Skip 2. No.

No. 3. Can you get round the other guard with in-handle?

Skip 2. No.

(Long pause.)

Skip 2. Yes, I can. At least there’s nothing else to be done. No, give me more ice than that! (This means that he thinks his stone will take more curl, and wants the directing broom to be put wider.) That’s about right.

He plays his shot amid dead silence. It soon becomes apparent that his stone is not going to curl round this guard at all, but will hit it. It does so, and lies by its side, merely giving an additional rampart to the granite fortification in the middle of the ice. The silence becomes rather painful.

Skip 1. Bad luck! (He does not mean that at all.) I think I’ll try and get another stone in the house.

Skip 1’s No. 3. For heaven’s sake don’t disturb our stone here.

Skip 1. No, I’ll play it just tee high....

(He puts down a hopeless hog.)

Skip 1. I wish you fellows would sweep!

(His pipe goes out.)

Skip 2 shouting to his No. 3. Well?

No. 3. Well?

Skip 2. See what happens, I think. There’s nothing to play for.

This means he is going to play for a fluke. There is no reasonable chance whatever of reaching that stone on the tee, and a wild toboggan of a shot sent down among all those guards may do something, though heaven alone knows what. He puts down stone with full swing, most unevenly, so that it careers up the ice violently rocking. It hits the long guard by the hog, which is exactly what he didn’t want to do, almost full in the face, and sends it scudding off into the abominably bad stone he himself has just put down before. It hits this nearly full, and starts it on its way. Bang into the middle of the house it goes, sends that impregnable tee-lying stone flying, and lies there itself. The five other stones in the house are all on its side, and instead of Skip 1 scoring one, Skip 2, off an incredible, revolting, pitiable fluke, scores five. Roars of execration and applause rend the skies, and Skip 2 modestly remarks, “Well, there are more ways than one of playing any shot!”

Here, then, is a rough sketch of the game as it is played, as it appears to the spectator; and after this bird’s-eye glance at it it is time to start again at the beginning and see how to play it. And the first consideration is the stance which the player takes up on the crampit before delivering his stone. Here, as at golf, there are great varieties of stance, all of which are perfectly right and proper, provided the curler can deliver his stone from them with effect. But, as at golf also, there are certain principles that will be found common to all those stances, and perhaps the most important of all is that the curler should feel perfectly comfortable and be maintaining his stance by balance and not by muscular effort. In every case again (if he be right-handed) his right foot will be firmly resting against the rim at the back of the crampit, for it is there that he gets the purchase which enables him to give the needful velocity to his stone. Similarly, his left foot will be advanced, and he will be facing full in the direction in which he is about to send his stone, and his left foot will also be pointing in that direction. He will also be bending down, since he has not to drop or fling the stone on to the ice, but to place it—to lay it there smoothly with a forward swing of his arm and body. But any kind of divergence is proper as regards this stooping attitude: some men get their stone down to the ice by bending the body strongly above the hips, keeping the legs comparatively straight, while others get down by bending the knees so far that they are sitting on their right heel, and their right knee is absolutely touching the crampit. And all these styles are perfectly right provided only that (i) the player feels comfortable and unstrained; (ii) he can get his stone well down on to the ice; (iii) his head is facing and his eyes looking in the direction of his skip’s besom. All three of these provisions are essential to successful curling, and if one thing can be more essential than another, it is that the player should be looking straight at the skip’s besom.

Next comes the actual delivery of the stone, the handle of which should lie lightly in the crook of the fingers and not be grasped like a battle-axe. This delivery of the stone is accomplished not by a jerk, as if throwing it, but by a steady swing forward of the body and arm together. The whole arm of the hand which carries the stone is brought slowly and steadily back (as in the back swing of golf), while the weight is resting almost entirely on the right leg. Then arm and body come forward together, without muscular exertion and without pressing, and the stone is placed on the ice, while the weight of the whole body, which at the top of the swing was on the right leg, has come forward on to the left. Should the ice be slow, greater force is given to the stone by a longer swing, and should the ice be fast the swing is shortened. But in no case, if the ice is playable on at all, should the impetus be derived from a muscular effort of the arm as in throwing; but as in golf, the swing of the arm and body together give the stone its impetus. And throughout the swing the eyes of the curler must never leave the directing besom of his skip. It is as fatal to look away from that as it is to take the eye off the ball at golf.

Now, if the stone is put down like this, without jerk or exertion (except such as is entailed in the swing), the stone will be laid evenly, and will start on its course without wobbling, but sliding truly on its polished base. But if it has been jerked or chucked on to the ice instead of being laid there, the chances are ten to one that it will be what is called a “quacker”—i.e. it will be oscillating from one side to the other and rolling like a ship in a cross sea. This sort of stone is quite useless, and if quacking badly will go staggering right through the house without ever having slid at all. Sometimes, if merely a very fast stone is wanted to break up a rampart of guards, or just “to see what will happen” in a hopeless position, a quacker is as good as anything else. But it is not curling.

Now there is a very important item in the swing at golf called the “follow-through.” This means that after the ball has been hit and is on its way, the club and the hands and arms holding it fly out after it, while the whole weight of the body goes on to the left foot. There is no question that what happens to the club and the arm and player generally, after the ball has gone, cannot make the least difference to the flight of the ball, but this “follow-through” is a symptom, an indication of what has already taken place, and if the follow-through is satisfactory and full it shows that the swing has been unchecked and smooth. Just in the same way the curler has to follow through, and though no doubt both curler and golfer can, theoretically, check their swing the moment after the stone and the ball have started, they would be most ill-advised to attempt to do so, since they run a grave risk of checking their swings before the stone or the ball have gone, and thus giving to their shot only a fraction of the force of the swing. So the curler is strongly advised to let this forward swing of his arm and body work itself out in the natural follow-through. And this follow-through may express itself in various ways. Most curlers express it by letting themselves run or slide a few steps after their stone, the forward swing of the body overbalancing their left foot, so that they instinctively (for fear they should fall down) put the right foot in front of it—in other words, take a few steps. Others again, and chiefly those who deliver the stone with right leg very strongly bent, so that the knee touches or nearly touches the ice, have not time to scramble to their feet, and usually express their follow-through by falling forward on their hands on to the ice. But in whatever way they conduct themselves, this little run and slide which some take and the falling forward of others are the result of the player’s proper and correct follow-through. He has not, at any rate, interfered with or checked his swing: he has delivered his stone with the force that he believed to be required.

And now we come to the most delicate and interesting part of the delivery of the stone, namely, the question of “twist” or “elbow” or “handle,” as it is called, which is universally practised by all curlers. This “handle” gives a rotatory motion to the stone, so that as it is travelling up the ice it is also slowly revolving on its own axis, either from right to left or left to right, and this rotation imparts to it, as its initial velocity diminishes and its pace slows down, a curling movement, in the manner of a break from the off or a break from the leg at cricket, or, if you will, a swerve in the air, or, as in golf, of a pull or a slice. Thus, though a stone on the tee may be completely guarded and covered, the player can, by imparting this rotatory movement to his stone, curl round the guard and reach his goal. Moreover, he can curl round the straight guard from either side, from the leg or from the off, so that if one path is blocked by another guard, he may yet get access by the other. He can, too, if there is, as often happens, a slight bias in the ice, apply the handle opposite to the direction in which the bias of the ice would deflect his shot, and thus keep his stone straight. Or again, by aiding the bias by the other handle, he can get round a very wide obstacle indeed. Heaven knows that these shots so glibly recorded are not easy; but there is hardly a shot or a manœuvre in any game which is easy. But the man who aspires to be a curler at all must have a fair command of this thing called “handle.” He must be able to direct a shot with moderate accuracy on the skip’s besom with either out-handle or in-handle. It is not enough equipment for the most modest player, who is a curler at all, to be able to play with one handle only. He must have a tolerable command of both.

Now, strange as it may at first appear, it is far easier to send down a stone with in-handle or out-handle on it than to send down a perfectly straight stone with no handle at all. Furthermore, the slightest frozen chip of ice, or minutest fragment of broom may, in passing under one side of the stone, impart a fortuitous and rotatory motion to it, so that a stone arriving in the house with practically no curl at all upon it is (except in the case of a fast hard stone) a rarity. Since, then, it is almost bound to have some handle on it, it is wiser for the player to put on the handle himself intentionally and allow for its curling course. This rotatory motion of the stone is imparted to it by a very slight turn of the arm just before the stone leaves the hand. If the elbow is turned outwards, it is called “out-elbow” or “out-handle,” though I am inclined to think that it is the wrist which makes the turn (some people say the fingers alone), the elbow merely following the wrist. This gives the stone a twist from right to left, and the effect of it is that it curls in from the right in the manner of a ball bowled with leg-break. This out-handle curl is easily imparted to the stone by turning the handle of it, as the hand grasps it, outwards at right angles or thereabouts to the direction of the stone’s travelling, and by holding the handle “overhand,” as it were, with the knuckles and back of the hand facing the ice in front. The curl is then naturally imparted to it, and the player will not have to think about it at all. If he delivers his stone in this way his wrist, if he holds his arm slack, as he always should (giving the velocity to the stone only by the swing), will naturally and inevitably make the outward turn. And it is a most important thing that the player should not think of handle at all when he delivers his stone, but leave that to develop automatically from the correct delivery, since the consideration of the pace and direction of the stone are enough to fill the most capacious mind and tax the utmost of his skill. How much allowance should be made for the curl, and how much the stone should be aimed to the right of where it is desired that it should come to rest, is a matter which is largely left to the judgment of the skip, who has been observing how much curl the ice takes. This differs very considerably, and depends on the condition of the surface. For instance, if the ice is very slow, a stone dies quickly, and since the curl does not begin to take effect till the initial speed has very much diminished, it will not curl for so long as it would on keen ice. On slow ice, in other words, the course of the stone is less influenced by handle. But again, the vigorous polishing of the ice in front of a stone tends to keep it straight, since then the roughnesses of the ice, on which the rotatory motion bites, are much diminished. But as a rule, after a few stones have been sent down, it is clear to a good skip how much handle they are taking, and he directs accordingly.

The in-handle or in-elbow is produced in precisely the converse way to the out-handle, and the stone, instead of curling in from the right, curls in from the left like a ball with off-break on it or a slice at golf. Here the stone should be held with its handle pointing inwards towards the player, and he should hold it in the crook of his fingers with the inside of his hand instead of the back of it facing the direction in which he lays his stone. This grip, again, naturally gives the required twist, and he can concentrate himself on pace and direction. But often during the course of a match the character of the ice will change, and it will begin to take the handle more or less as the case may be. Both skip and individual players should be on the lookout for this, and the tactics should be altered accordingly. Hard ice—ceteris paribus—is the keener, and thus in the afternoon, when the rays of the sun shine less directly on to the rink, it tends to get faster and to take more curl. On the other hand, in the morning ice tends to get slower, as the sun plays on the surface of it.

All stones are polished differently on their two faces, one side of the stone being less inexorably smooth than the other. A stone travelling on the keen or smoother side naturally goes further starting at the same initial velocity than if travelling on the rough side, and should the ice be very keen and fast, it is difficult to estimate the strength which will take them over the hog, and yet not send them roaring through the house. But the handles of stones can be unscrewed in a very few seconds and fixed on the other side, so that the stones will now travel on their rough or slower side. Conversely, also, if the ice has been very fast, and a player has been using the rough side of his stones, he may even, during the course of the match, if the ice for some reason gets slower, reverse his stones and use the keen side. This will make it possible for him to play without effort, instead of “shifting” the stones along.

I am aware that in touching on the question of handle at all I do a thing that is provocative of discussion. There are many ways of putting on handle, and the adherents of any such will certainly maintain that their own method is the best if not the only proper one. But I think the majority of players will allow that the grip which I have mentioned, namely the overhand grip for imparting out-elbow and the underhand grip for imparting in-elbow, lead, more or less, provided only the arm is held slack, to the required result. But I freely allow there are many other methods: some curlers put on handle consciously, and consciously twist their arms as they deliver their stone, others trust to the slight adhesion of the little finger to the handle after the other fingers have quitted. But it seems to me that any grip which automatically imparts the desired handle is preferable to all grips which demand that the player should be obliged to think about his handle. He has enough to do without that, and enough to think about. So let him, if he finds these grips unsatisfactory, learn any grip under the sun (and over the ice) that naturally imparts the curl he wishes to put on.

A further question arises. Is it not possible to regulate the amount of handle and the consequent amount of curl that the stone will take? Without doubt it is; but the curler who can put on a great deal of handle or a little handle at will is not a person who can be instructed. Certainly it is possible to make one stone curl a little and another much, but he who can do this and regulate it is not a first-class curler merely but a supreme curler. For us, duffers and strugglers, there is a simpler method, which is to aim the shot always with the curl that we naturally impart to it, and take more or less “ice” as the case may be: aim it, that is to say, closer to the required resting-place for the stone if the ice is taking but little bias, and further from it if the ice is encouraging the deflection. The superior curler, in critical situations, it is true, when guards are spread about like the rocks in some dangerous archipelago, will make curves, as his stone is dying, which it would be madness for the ordinary decent player to attempt. But he will have made such curves by the conscious application of muscular force, sending the stone literally spinning down the ice. We admire, we applaud, I hope, even when he is on the other side, but unless we are more than first-rate at the game we will not try to imitate. Personally, I have a theory which concerns the thumb. Not for worlds would I divulge it for fear of encouraging disasters as bad as those that I myself perpetrate. All the same I am convinced it is right: I lack the skill to execute it....

But whatever the method of grip, whatever the curl to be imparted to the stone, the handle should be at rest in the crook of the fingers. To hold it tight implies muscular exertion, and muscular exertion, unless the object is to send a fast straight stone, the only requisite of which is great pace and moderate direction, is out of place at this delicate and “touchy” game. Even when the ice is very slow, better practice will be made with a longer and untightened swing than with momentum derived from the elbow and shoulder.

Finally, but no less importantly, with regard to sweeping. It is hardly too much to say that a good sweeper is almost worth his place in a side, even though he is an indifferent player, so tremendous is the part which a good sweeper plays, for he is like a good field at cricket. He should always start before the stone gets to him, so that by the time it is opposite him he is moving down the rink with it, ready to begin operations the moment his skip tells him. The word of command may come at any second, and it is often of vital importance that he should begin instantly. Even skips have errors of judgment, and the skip may have not given the order to sweep soon enough. This can often be rectified by instant and vigorous sweeping, and the error repaired, whereas if a sweeper is slow to go about his job the mistakes on the part of the skip may be irremediable. All down his allotted portion of the ice the good sweeper will sidle along by the travelling stone, even though no order comes, until he has given it into keeping of the next sweeper or of the skip himself. And with the same promptitude as he began to sweep must he stop sweeping when he hears the word “Up brooms!” Another yard of polish may, if the skip is correct in his estimate, be the death of a winner. Often again it is but a question of an inch or two to turn a hog into the most perfect of long guards, and this inch or two is entirely a matter of sweeping. The most moribund of travellers may be coaxed over the line and make an incalculable difference in the score by protecting a winner. But “a little less and what worlds away.”... A shot that good sweeping would have made into a gem is bundled off the ice like the worst stone ever sent down on its degraded handle.

Besides matches between teams there is a very searching affair to be played with curling-stones called a “points” competition. Here single players compete against each other in attempting to make certain shots which are set them. Stones are put on the ice in certain given positions, and each competitor in turn has to try to bring off a certain definite shot. For instance, he will have to guard one stone, to promote another, to get an inwick off a third, to draw a port between two others, &c. It is, of course, a very high test of skill, but is somewhat a Lenten or humiliating affair, since the very finest players seldom get as much as half-marks. It is, moreover, lacking in all the “team-feeling” which is one of the greatest charms in match play, and is also, in the present writer’s humble opinion, a terribly tedious affair, since after each shot, if the lying stones have been touched, they must be replaced on their marked spots, and a competition of this kind, if there is at all a large field, goes on rather longer than into eternity. According to the regulations drawn up by the Royal Caledonian Club there are nine shots to be played and a tenth is added in case of a tie. The necessary stones to play on to are placed in or around the house, and the competitor has then nine different shots to play.

These are—(i) striking; (ii) inwicking; (iii) drawing to the tee; (iv) guarding; (v) chap and lie (i.e. playing on to a stone on the tee, ejecting it, and remaining in the house); (vi) wick and curl in; (vii) raising; (viii) chipping the winner; (ix) drawing through a port. In case of a tie between competitors, those who are equal play four shots of “outwicking.”

Different marks can be earned by each of these shots. For instance, if a competitor playing chap and lie remain in the seven-foot circle he scores one, if within the four-foot circle he scores two, given that he strikes the placed stone out of the house in both cases. Complete details are published by the Royal Caledonian Curling Club.

Plate XVII

CURLING

Plate XVIII

CURLING AT MURREN

Plate XIX

THE THREE KULM RINKS

Plate XX

LADIES’ CURLING MATCH, ST. MORITZ

CHAPTER IV
TOBOGGANING

To descend an ice-run like the Cresta at St. Moritz is no doubt a most thrilling and skilled adventure, but the vast majority of people who say (with perfect truth) that they enjoy tobogganing would sooner think of ascending in an aeroplane than descending the Cresta, and would freeze with fright at the thought of embarking on it. On the other hand, the skilled Cresta runner would no more think that the quiet descent of snow-covered roads on a Swiss luge was tobogganing in his sense of the word, than the aeroplanist would allow that a man practising high jump was flying. From which we may rightly infer that there are various sorts of movement which are covered by the word tobogganing.

As a matter of fact there are, commonly practised in Switzerland, three broad and widely differing species of tobogganing. They are as follows:

(i) Proceeding—quickly or leisurely—down frozen roads or artificial snow-made runs.

(ii) Proceeding—as quickly as possible—down artificial ice-runs.

(iii) Bobsleighing (or bobbing)—as quickly as possible—down roads or artificial runs.

The number of folk who practise the first of these immensely outnumbers those who practise the other two; for everybody in Switzerland in the winter is guilty of the first practice, from the small Swiss native, aged perhaps eight or under, who marches up to school with its books tied on to its luge, and gaily and jauntily returns home seated on it, steering and guiding with its ridiculous little feet, and shouting “Gare” or “Achtung,” according to the canton, up to the skilled racer on the skeleton who carries off the Symonds bowl in the race on the Klosters road at Davos. But all these, different as their performances are, are going on snow-runs. The snow may in places, it is true, where it has thawed and frozen again, intimately resemble ice. But the ice-run is different in kind from any snow-runs.

For ordinary travel, let us say from your hotel down to the rink, where there is no question of racing, but just getting there, the toboggan generally used is the Swiss toboggan or luge. It is a high wooden frame (high, that is, compared to the skeleton) with two runners shod with steel or iron, and you sit on it exactly as is most comfortable—it is never very comfortable—and tie your lunch and skates on to it, and push off. If you want to turn to the right, you put your right heel into the snow, or dab with your hand on the right side; if you want to go to the left, you perform the same operation in a sinister manner. If you want to stop, you put both heels into the snow. If you want to go quicker, you, while still sitting down, walk with both feet simultaneously. This sounds complicated; but it is quite clear the moment you feel you want to go quicker—it is done instinctively. Finally, if you are going fast, and must make a sudden stop,

“ACHTUNG!”

From the Drawing by Fleming Williams

owing to some obstacle in the shape of an old lady or a sleigh immediately in front of you, you turn into any convenient snowbank at the side of the road, and having picked yourself up, look injured, which physically you are not. Or, if there is no convenient snowbank, you fall off to one side or the other, and often observe your malicious luge proceeding calmly on its course without you. In fact, you do anything that occurs to you at the moment, except upset the old lady or charge the sleigh.

The foregoing is a complete compendium of all that it is necessary to know or do, when tobogganing on an ordinary road. It is as simple as walking and generally quicker. The same, in the main, applies to the use of luges on an artificially-made run. But every artificial run implies the idea of racing, and thus the object is to get down it as quickly as possible. But every artificial run has turns in it, and the idea is to get round these turns without capsize and with as little loss of speed as possible. The outside of these turns is therefore banked up (i.e. if the turn is to the right, the left side of the track is banked up, and vice versa), so that you do not (if you manage properly) run out of the track, but climb the bank and descend again into the track. But if you do not manage properly, one of three things will happen to you.

(i) You go over the bank and are heavily spilled. This is fatal if you want to win a race, unless everybody else does the same.

(ii) You upset on the bank. This is not necessarily so fatal, unless you entirely part company with your toboggan, which then finishes triumphantly without you.

(iii) In excess of caution, you diminish your speed so much before you get to the bank that you merely crawl round the bend. This is moderately fatal.

But we need not waste more time over artificial snow-runs. They are only a compendious form of road-running, and what is necessary in the way of steering and judgment of pace on them, is equally true with regard to such fine natural runs as the Klosters road. Here there are no artificial banks to keep the runner in his course. He has to get around the corners by judicious steering, and crawling when necessary, and, above all, by adjustment of weight. On the ordinary luge or Swiss toboggan there is little adjustment of weight that can be made, but it is a very different affair when you negotiate the same road on racing toboggans, namely skeletons, which are also used on ice-runs.

Here, instead of this little high wooden platform on which you sit, there is a very low framework supported on round steel runners, blunt nosed in front, and instead of sitting on it you lie on it, face downwards. The runners, sharply bent upwards in front, return and form the support of the low frame, and you grasp these with your hands, and lie down with arms bent or extended as required. But the cushion on which you recline moves backwards and forwards in the manner of a sliding seat, so that you can lie with legs right out behind the base of the machine, and can use great part of your weight, inclining it to one side or the other of the toboggan, in order to get it round curves. Similarly, the hands have an immense leverage behind them, and with one foot lying out behind and raking the snow, a curve can be made at high speed, which it would be impossible to get round on a Swiss toboggan without heavy braking and great loss of velocity. When riding a skeleton, the toes of the boots are fitted with toothed irons, so that they can be used together as brakes, or singly, in order to make the toboggan curve in the required direction. The runners of these toboggans are not rectangular like those on luges, but of circular shape, thus producing the minimum of friction on their travelling surface. Even on snow-tracks these are capable of tremendous speed, though that speed does not approach what they compass on frozen ice-runs, where they travel almost frictionless.

Apart from the “storm and stress” of racing, there is a wonderful pleasure, if the track is smooth and trafficless, in this swift gliding over frozen snow, and one of the most romantic of experiences in all the gamut of motion is tobogganing by moonlight. Never will the writer forget one such night on the Klosters road. We had sleighed up from Davos, a party of friends, to Wolfgang, on one of those magical nights when no breath of wind stirred the lightest jewels of hoar-frost on the pines, when the moon was full, and the stars burned like diamonds aflame. All the way up, after dinner, there had been talk and laughter, and standing ready to go, we arranged that there should be two minutes’ pause between the despatch of the toboggans, and one by one we slid off into the unspeakable silence of the Alpine night. It so happened that I was the last to go, and for two minutes I waited at the head of the track in a stillness that is unimaginable. When I started there was in all probability not a living soul within half a mile, and the nearest was sliding swiftly further away every moment. For a little way the track lay open to the full blaze of the zenithed moon, but soon it plunged beneath the impenetrable canopy of pines. It was possible to see the white glimmer of the road ahead, otherwise there was nothing visible. Then, with the suddenness of a curtain withdrawn, the blackness became a celestial and ineffable glory of close burning constellations, with the full disc of the moon shining imperially among them. Far below, distant and dim, I could see the lights of Klosters, and half-longed to reach them, in order to get out of this awful and burning and frozen solitude, half-longed that my travel might be lengthened into an eternity of wheeling stars and flying road. Sometimes it seemed that I was rushing headlong through space, sometimes it seemed that I was stopping absolutely still, and that it was this unreal world of trees and road and bridges and banks that hurled itself by me, and that the stars and I were the steadfast things. Once the sudden roar of a stream over the bridge of which I passed sounded loud and menacing, but in a moment that was past, and the hissing spray of frozen snow coming from the bows of my toboggan was the only sound audible. And then the lights of Klosters gleamed larger and nearer, and this wonderful swift solitude was over.

(As a matter of fact, I had an awful spill by the cabbage garden corner: but though that was very vivid at the time, there remains nothing of it, except the fact, in my memory. It would have been more romantic, but less realistic, not to have mentioned it.)

Ice-runs

There is one Mecca: there is one St. Peter’s: there is one Cresta. As is Mecca to the Mohammedan, as is St. Peter’s to the Catholic, so is the Cresta run at St. Moritz to the tobogganer. It is the ice-run. There may be others, and there certainly are, but what does the Cresta care? It has a cachet which no other possesses.

The Cresta was first engineered, I believe, in the year 1884, and its chief architect was Herr Peter Badruth of St. Moritz. From that time onwards it has yearly been built up with as much thought and care as is lavished on a cathedral; every yard of it is staked out, and the angles, curves, and shaping of its banks and corners most accurately calculated. It is built up from the bottom upwards, so that the lower part of it can be used while the construction of the upper part is still going on, and the whole run is generally open not until after the middle of February. Every winter is this amazing architecture in crystal planned and carried out under the direction of Mr. W. H. Bulpett, who has for many years been chief architect.

To begin with, the snow is trampled down, after the manner of making the foundation of an ice-rink, so as to form a firm solid base, and where the banks are to be built snow is brought in sleigh-loads, shovelled on to it, and beaten down. More snow will then be still required, and again more, till the whole of the banks are solid and of the necessary height and curve. Then the banks and the rest of the course (the straights) are sprinkled with water and again beaten down, and the glazed ice surface begins to be made. When this has frozen, water is again sprinkled on it, and again and yet again, till the whole section has become, banks and course alike, a surface of smooth hard ice. Down each side of the narrow racing track (except at its banked corner it is only a few feet wide, a riband of ice) are little walls of firm built snow, also iced, so that the runner, if he is going moderately straight, cannot leave the track, though he often comes into slight collision with these walls. But even slight collisions when travelling at a speed that sometimes exceeds 70 miles an hour are not experiences to be encountered unarmed, and the elbows and knees are thickly protected by felt pads, while on the toes of his boots are toothed rakes made of steel, which are used to guide the runner round the bank and to check his speed if it is so excessive that, unchecked, he would run over the tops of the banks.

A very high degree of nerve, skill, and judgment is required on such an ice-run as this. The rider’s object being to cover the course in as few seconds as possible, he must clearly take his banks (i.e. get round the curves) with as little loss of speed as possible, and he will only use his brakes when his judgment tells him that if unchecked he would be carried over the top of them. On the other hand, he does not want to brake unless it be necessary, and you will often see him with his top runners within an inch or two of the edge of these huge sloping ice-curves. At Battledore and Shuttlecock, the two biggest banks on the Cresta, he enters the second immediately after coming out of the first, and the two form a great S curve. Lower down again, before he threads the

ON THE CRESTA RUN

From the Drawing by Fleming Williams

arch of the railway bridge, there is another called Bulpett’s corner, designed to protect him from running out to the left of the course, and then a headlong descent takes him to the winning-post, which is at the bottom of the hill. Passing this he snaps a thread with an electric connection, which registers the exact fraction of a second at which he passes it. Then, on his run out, he whirls up a steep ice-covered slope, for if this were not iced too, his speed would be so abruptly checked that he and his toboggan would be bowled over and over like a shot rabbit, and comes to a stop just outside the little village of Cresta. But even with this steep slope to check him after his race is over, the momentum acquired is so great that, if he does not brake heavily all the way up this hill, he will, on reaching the level ground at the top, shoot high into the air, toboggan and all.

Some idea of the speed at which toboggans travel on the straight reaches of the course may be gathered from the average speed at which the course can be run. It is over 1300 yards in length, and has been traversed in a shade over 60 seconds! This means that the highest rate of speed must be well over 70 miles an hour. This on a pair of steel runners, head foremost, with your face a few inches above the solid ice, with nothing to check you except a small-toothed rake on the toe of each boot! Yet so wonderfully skilful is the construction of the run, so cunningly is it built to safeguard the headlong traveller, that accidents are very few. Two fatal ones, indeed, there have been, but of these one had nothing to do with the course itself, but was owing to the fact that a rider started from the top before one of the barriers across the course, which show that it is not open for racing, had been removed. In the other, the rider ran over a bank and his toboggan fell on the top of him. One of the great difficulties which the builders and managers of this run, in company with other ice-runs, have to contend against, is the power of the sun. It is, of course, absolutely necessary that the icing of the run should be so solid that there is no chance of the runner of a toboggan going through it, which would naturally mean a bad spill. But it is also necessary that certain of the banks must have the sun blazing into them all day long, which would cause them to lose ice faster than it could be made by the sprinkling which goes on when the sun is off them. At such points, therefore, big canvas screens are put up, which shade the bank from the direct rays; also tobogganing is never permitted to go on all day. It starts early in the morning, when the run has been recuperated by the night of frost, and is closed when, in the opinion of the management, the sun has so softened the banks that there is danger of a toboggan cutting through the crust.

Bobsleighing (or Bobbing)

This charming form of the sport may be described as combined tobogganing, and in bobbing races teams of four enter against each other. The form of toboggan used is, of course, immensely larger than that employed in single tobogganing, since it will hold five or six persons, and its construction is altogether different and most elaborate. It consists of a long, low platform some 10 feet in length, and is mounted, not on one pair of runners, but on two. The pair that supports the fore part of the bobsleigh is a sort of bogie-truck, pivoted under the platform, and it can be turned to the right and left in order to direct the course of the bob round curves. This turning of it is done by the captain, who sits first at the bows of the sleigh, and is worked by ropes, which he holds in his hands, or by a wheel which controls its movements. In long runs, as on the Schatz-alp at Davos, the wheel is far better than the ropes, since it entails so much less strain on the hands of the steersman: on a short run the ropes are as good. Behind the captain sit the members of his crew in line, with the loops of rope just outside the framework of the sleigh, in which they fix their heels. Last of them all sits the brakesman, at the stern of the sleigh, who has in his control a powerful steel-toothed brake, which crosses the sleigh behind and is worked with levers. But it is the captain who is in command of the bob, and the brakesman and other members of the crew only perform his orders. The word “bobsleigh” is derived from the movement of leaning or “bobbing” forward, which is done by all the crew together, to get up speed or increase it. They come forward quickly with a jerk, and go back again slowly and steadily, and this without doubt accelerates the movement of the sleigh.

As in all other forms of tobogganing, braking is employed to diminish speed in coming to corners, where otherwise the momentum would cause the whole concern to leave the track altogether. So also, just as the ice-tobogganer inclines his body inwards in a similar position, the captain and crew lean to the inside of the track when going round a corner so as to help the toboggan round it, while the inclination of the front pair of runners is directed to the same end. By strong leaning inwards, combined with the inclination of the bogie-pair of runners, quite considerable curves may be taken at high velocity without the use of the brake at all, and the consequent loss of speed. But all this is left to the judgment of the captain, who has to decide whether by direction of the bogie-runners alone, or by that in conjunction with the leaning inwards of his crew, he can safely negotiate a corner without calling for the use of the brake. And the responsibility is entirely in his hands. At the same time much depends on the prompt obedience of the crew to his orders, for it is easily possible that a corner might have been safely coasted round if they had obeyed his call to lean inwards, which would spill them all if his call was not immediately responded to. How great the effect of this inward shifting of the weight can be, if it is thoroughly carried out, may be guessed from Plate XXXI. In this same photograph the inward direction of the front pair of runners may also be seen assisting the work of the crew. And it is this “teamwork,” the sense of working in unison under orders, which gives much of its charm to bobbing. Everyone feels—rightly—that much of the success of the run depends on his individual work, even though his individual work is only to lean as far as possible out of the bob without parting company with it altogether.

Bobbing can be practised on an ordinary road covered with hard snow, or, in excelsis, on runs constructed for this express

TAILING

From the Drawing by Fleming Williams

purpose. Of these the two most famous are the St. Moritz bob-run, which starts by the Bandy rink and finishes side by side with the Cresta ice-run, after passing under the railway bridge, and the Schatz-alp run at Davos. Previous to its construction, not many years ago, bobbing at Davos chiefly took place on the Klosters road, which was the same track as that used by the ordinary toboggan, but now each has its own course. These artificially constructed bob-runs are engineered with the same care and nicety as ice-runs for the single toboggan, and at corners curved banks are built solidly of beaten-down snow. The track is then iced, for no snow could stand the continual passage of the heavy bobs over the same banks and narrow course without speedily being worn into ruts that would entirely spoil the going and upset the goers, and the ice is then sprinkled over with loose snow to prevent the toboggan skidding. But the greater part of bobbing is done on the public roads, which are frozen and hardened by the passage of sleighs. At most Swiss winter resorts there are facilities for this delightful form of sport.

Plate XXI

THE BUILDING OF THE CRESTA—“BATTLEDORE”

Plate XXII

THE TOP OF THE CRESTA, ST. MORITZ

Plate XXIII

STARTING ON THE CRESTA

Plate XXIV

CHURCH LEAP, CRESTA RUN

Plate XXV

CHURCH LEAP, CRESTA RUN

Plate XXVI

“BATTLEDORE” CORNER, CRESTA

Plate XXVII

CROSSING THE ROAD, CRESTA

Plate XXVIII

NEAR THE FINISH ON THE CRESTA

Plate XXIX

BOB-RUN, ST. MORITZ: IN THE LARCH WOODS

Plate XXX

ROUNDING SUNNY CORNER, ST. MORITZ BOB-RUN

Plate XXXI

BOB-RUN, ST. MORITZ

Plate XXXII

THE STRAIGHT FROM THE BRIDGE, ST. MORITZ BOB-RUN

Plate XXXIII

ST. MORITZ BOB-RUN

CHAPTER V
ICE-HOCKEY

Many of the Swiss winter-resorts can put into the field a very strong ice-hockey team, and fine teams from other countries often make winter tours there; but the ice-hockey which the ordinary winter visitor will be apt to join in will probably be of the most elementary and unscientific kind indulged in, when the skating day is drawing to a close, by picked-up sides. As will be readily understood, the ice over which a hockey match has been played is perfectly useless for skaters any more that day until it has been swept, scraped, and sprinkled or flooded; and in consequence, at all Swiss resorts, with the exception of St. Moritz, where there is a rink that has been made for the hockey-player, or when an important match is being played, this sport is supplementary to such others as I have spoken of. Nobody, that is, plays hockey and nothing else, since he cannot play hockey at all till the greedy skaters have finished with the ice.

And in most places hockey is not taken very seriously: it is a charming and heat-producing scramble to take part in when the out-door day is drawing to a close and the chill of the evening beginning to set in; there is a vast quantity of falling down in its componence and not very many goals, and a general ignorance about rules. But since a game, especially such a wholly admirable and delightful game as ice-hockey, may just as well be played on the lines laid down for its conduct as not, I append at the end of this short section a copy of the latest edition of the rules as issued by Prince’s Club, London.

For the rest, everybody knows the “sort of thing” hockey is, and quite rightly supposes that ice-hockey is the same “sort of thing” played on a field of ice by performers shod in skates. As is natural, the practice and ability which enable a man to play ordinary hockey with moderate success are a large factor in his success when he woos the more elusive sister-sport; another factor, and one which is not sufficiently appreciated, is the strength of his skating. It is not enough to be able to run very swiftly on the skates: no one is an ice-hockey player of the lowest grade who cannot turn quickly to right or left, start quickly, and above all, stop quickly. However swift a player may be, he is practically useless to his side unless he can, with moderate suddenness, check his headlong career, turn quickly, and when the time comes again start quickly.

I have often been asked whether ice-hockey is “bad” for skating. Most emphatically it is not: on the other hand, it is extremely good for most skaters, since it gives them strength of ankle and accustoms them to move at a high speed. Strength, as we have seen before, is not the prime need of a skater, but balance: strength, however, is a most useful adjunct. But though hockey is good for the skater, he will certainly find that he will not skate well or accurately immediately after playing hockey, any more than he will skate well the moment he has taken off his skis. But the feeling that to play hockey unfits the skater for that which he may regard as his more artistic job, is, as far as can be seen, unfounded.

It is a wonderful and delightful sight to watch the speed and accuracy of a first-rate team, each member of which knows the play of the other five players. The finer the team, as is always the case, the greater is their interdependence on each other, and the less there is of individual play. Brilliant running and dribbling, indeed, you will see; but as distinguished from a side composed of individuals, however good, who are yet not a team, these brilliant episodes are always part of a plan, and end not in some wild shot but in a pass or a succession of passes, designed to lead to a good opening for scoring. There is, indeed, no game at which team play outwits individual brilliance so completely.

But such is not the aspect of the game that will strike the observer who watches the usual pick-up or inter-hotel match on the rink, which generally begins as soon as skaters hear the curfew of the tea-bell. Here will be found the individualist who, sooner than pass when he has once got the puck, would infinitely prefer to fall and be trampled on; and you will see him, while still sitting on the ice, hacking wildly at the beloved india-rubber, in flat contravention of the rule. Common, too, are the “non-stops” (like Wimbledon trains) who, once having got up speed, are practically brakeless. Indeed, it was in connection with non-stops that the present writer saw the most ludicrously comic incident that it has ever been his good luck to encounter in these winter places, where so many funny things happen. And it was in this manner. A round dozen of these delightful nonstops had made up a hockey match. The rink where they played bounded on three sides by snow-banks; on the fourth, at the edge of which was one of their goals, an extremely steep descent (caused by the levelling up of the ground to make the rink), about 15 feet in height, plunged into the snow-covered field below. It was a very cold afternoon, and (so rightly) the two gentlemen who were deputed to keep goal preferred to plunge into the fray and go for the puck whenever they could catch sight of it. In general, there were some four or five out of the twelve players on their feet simultaneously: the rest were momentarily prone. All this was delightful enough, but I had no conception how funny they were all going to be.

It so happened that the puck was in the neighbourhood of the goal away from the steep bank down into the field: it so happened, also, that all the twelve were on their feet. Somebody in the mélêe near the goal hit the puck with such amazing violence that it flew half-way down the rink. The whole field, with ever-increasing velocity, poured after it, spreading out on both sides of it. Another whack brought it close to the goal at the edge of the steep bank, and again at top-speed every player on the field was in pursuit. Faster and ever faster they neared the goal: somebody, with stick high uplifted in the manner of a three-quarter swing at golf, made a prodigious hit at it, but completely missed it. The next moment every single one of those players had poured like a resistless cataract down the steep snow-slope into the field below, leaving the rink completely untenanted except for a small innocent-looking puck, which lay a few yards in front of a yawning goal.

ICE HOCKEY

From the Drawing by Fleming Williams

For a little while this impressive stillness and depopulation lasted. Then the first “strayed reveller” returned, heavily limping. He took his time, and with a superb, lightning-like shot sent the puck whirling through the unguarded goal. Simultaneously he sat down. Simultaneously a second player showed his head over the ice-bank and shouted “Offside!” Simultaneously also, the puck hit him in the face. It is hard to believe, I know; but I assure the reader that it was harder to stop laughing.

At any rate, here are the rules: