[to be continued.]
[A BATTLE ROYAL.]
You ought to have seen the terrible row we had in my room last night,
The elephant plush and the calico cat and my new little pug had a fight,
And though an elephant's great and strong, and a cat has powerful claws,
My little pug-dog came out on top with the aid of his teeth and paws.
The trouble arose in the simplest way; the cat was asleep on a chair.
And the elephant plush was standing about, and sniffing the cool night air,
When Puggy rushed in, as he sometimes does, for a romp on the bed with me,
And tripped on the trunk of the elephant bold, and over and over went he.
He turned two somersaults up in the air, as he tripped on the elephant's trunk,
And then went bang 'gainst the pussy-cat's chair with a really horrible bunk.
He bunked so hard that the chair slid back, with a bang on the side of the door,
And the calico cat, with a hiss and a scat, came tumbling down to the floor.
And it happened as puss came tumbling down old Puggy lay down just below;
He'd tumbled right flat on his poor little back, a picture of trouble and woe—
And the pussy kerflop came down on top of my new little live little pup,
And then came a mighty old struggle in which the cat was just chewed all up.
Pug snapped and he yawled and he rolled and he kicked, but the calico cat held fast;
And they slid o'er the floor in a mad embrace, until, pretty near the last,
They came to the elephant made of plush, with celluloid tusks, so rare,
Who silently stood, as I said before, a-sniffing the cool night air.
And of course when they rolled underneath his legs, the elephant came down too—
And oh, the row, the terrible row, I'm sure would have startled you.
Those three bold friends of my nursery days now got in a terrible plight,
But the small live pug, with his teeth and his paws, soon had much the best of the fight.
And now to-day I am gathering up from all parts of the nursery floor
Small pieces of cotton and calico shreds and samples of plush galore.
There are eyes and ears and tails and trunks from my bed to the wash-stand rug
That tell of the glorious victory that was won by my brave little pug.
As for Puggy himself, he's still romping away, and he hasn't a scar to show;
Nor does he remember, as far as I see, that terrible scene of woe.
And the only effect of his fight at all is he seems to be twice as fat,
Which may come, I cannot with certainty say, from swallowing part of the cat.
Carlyle Smith.
[PUBLIC-SCHOOL BOY AFLOAT.]
BY RICHARD BARRY.
o the passengers on the ferry-boats crossing between New York and Long Island City, through the sweeping tide of the East River, a view is given of a trim-looking craft lying just astern of the old battle-ship New Hampshire, moored to the Twenty-eighth-street wharf. She is very much dwarfed in appearance by the towering top sides of the three-decker, and during the winter months the deck-house that stretches above her bulwarks makes her look as if her days of freedom to plough the main were past and gone.
The vessel is the St. Mary's, the nautical training-ship connected with the public-school system of New York city. From the first of November to the middle of April she is indeed nothing but a floating school-house, and the long shed on her deck is divided into recitation-rooms, equipped with blackboards and chalk and benches, and presided over by uniformed teachers.
All this sounds dry enough, even if it is connected with a ship; but the scholars are very different in appearance from the lads who attend the public-schools, although they are drawn from the same sources. Every boy is togged out in the uniform of a naval apprentice, and he is very proud of his ship and of the name on the ribbon of his cap.
Life on a sailing-vessel, that depends entirely upon the wind for her motive power, is very different from the life on board a steamer or one of the steel cruisers of Uncle Sam's new navy. No boy who has ever read any of Marryat's stories, or those from the pen of Clarke Russell, but has been filled with a desire to try the sea for himself, and if he is able-bodied, and a boy with a good record and a desire to learn, he can step back, as it were, into the time when Marryat's or Russell's heroes lived and had their adventures. He can live on board the St. Mary's the life of the sailor-boy of the old school, and find extant all its pleasures and excitements. Indeed, it is not all school-work and blackboard and chalk; there are long months of cruising in blue waters, and strange countries to be seen, and a chance also for a fine occupation, and good paying positions awaiting him at the end of his term of service.
To begin at the beginning, let us see how the New York boy, who has known nothing but the streets and the crowded houses, can accomplish all this, and how he goes about it, and what he learns and sees.
In the first place, it must be well understood that the St. Mary's is not offered by the government as a floating reformatory for bad or unruly boys, or to help careless parents to get rid of them. It is exactly the reverse, and this is now well known.
Application for admission to the Nautical School must be made to the chairman of the executive committee of the Board of Education, or made in person to the Superintendent on board the St. Mary's herself.
But to state a few of the requirements before the papers are signed and the school-boy becomes a sailor. The applicant must be between the ages of sixteen and twenty years. He must be of average size, sound constitution, and free from all physical defects. This means that a rigid examination is enforced, and the boy is measured and given tests of strength to prove that he is worthy by nature to put on the blue suit of service.
He must show testimonials of good character, and, of course, must have been influenced to enter by a taste for a seafaring life, and he must come to a decision of his own free will. The examination, outside of the physical one, is very simple. He must be able to read and spell, to write legibly, and to know enough of arithmetic to figure simple sums up to and including percentage. Lastly, as the boy is not of age, his parent or guardian must sign the necessary papers. Once enlisted, he is maintained at the expense of the city, but has to come provided with numerous articles necessary to a sailor. The list includes two pairs of black leather shoes, rubber boots, one black silk hand-kerchief, one strong jack-knife, tooth-brushes, clothes-brushes, and hair-brushes; thread, needles, wax, tape, and buttons, and many other things to keep him comfortable.
The blue uniform and the canvas working suit are given to him, and only thirty dollars are required to defray the expense of clothing and bedding for the two years' cruise.
SAIL-MAKING ON THE "ST. MARY'S."
The winter's school term, which begins in November, ends on April 1, when the boys are given a vacation of ten days and bid their farewells. Upon their return to the ship they find the temporary deck-house taken down, and they are put to work rigging the ship and preparing for what they have so long been looking forward to—the summer's cruise.
About April 20 the yards are all up, and the St. Mary's is all-a-taunt-o and ready to go to sea. Now for a month, they cruise in the waters of Long Island Sound, learning to handle ship, and then when they have thoroughly learned their stations and the duties assigned to them, they set sail for the far countries and foreign ports which most of them are anxious to visit.
The writer remembers being in the harbor of Southampton, England, upon one occasion when the St. Mary's came into port. It made his heart beat with pride to see the beautiful vessel (just as if she had sailed out of the past history of the good old days) come sweeping in from the Channel. All her white sails were set when she first was sighted, and the nimble little sailors aloft began to take them in one by one as she drew up to her anchorage.
The flag flying at her peak is the most beautiful thing to an American to be seen in foreign countries, and proud indeed was the writer to turn to an English friend and explain what the trim craft was, and to tell that the crew were New York boys, and Americans every one.
A LESSON IN FURLING SAIL.
Soon after she dropped her anchor and trimmed ship a boat was lowered away, and it came dashing up to the pier. It was a pleasure to look at the brown, healthy faces, and to notice the well-kept cadence of the stroke pulled by the strong young arms.
Leaving one of the officers on shore, the lads pulled back to the ship, looking curiously at the town, and longing perhaps for the liberty which would be allowed them on the morrow.
Engaging a boatman to row us off, the author and his English friend were soon alongside the school-ship, where the former explained that he was a New-Yorker, and was asked to come on board.
Although she had been at anchor only an hour or so, all the running gear was being neatly stowed away, and the loose ends flemished (i.e., coiled down flat) on the deck. But a word as to the vessel herself:
The St. Mary's was an old United States sloop-of-war, the type of a vessel, modernized a little, that had won honor and glory for the country. The Wasp was such a one as this, and every one knows what she did during the war of 1812. The other craft that stung the English so badly when commanded by Lawrence, the gallant little Hornet, was about this type—a sloop-of-war—also. Although the St. Mary's was very peaceful looking, because she lacked the rows of black carronades along her sides, still it required but little stretching of the imagination to change her into a man-of-war.
We spoke to a little wiry youngster, who told us he lived in "West Twenty-thoid" Street, and asked him how he liked being a sailor. The grin that accompanied his answer—"It's bully good fun"—convinced us that he, at least, was happy, and had rightly chosen his calling. In fact, we did not see an unhappy face amongst the crew, and this speaks volumes.
The St. Mary's had stopped at the Azores, on the voyage out, where the boys had had fine times, according to account, and where the people had been looking forward to their coming, for they generally touched there on their cruises. Of course I had to explain to my English friend that these boys had nothing to do with the regular navy, but were intended for the merchant service, unless they wished, of course, to change it for life on board one of the new cruisers. Every one of them hoped to be an officer some day, and there is no reason, if they attend to duty, why this hope should not be fulfilled, for a better training for positions of command could not be had.
WINTER WORK ON BOARD THE "ST. MARY'S."
One of the officers told us of a little adventure that had happened upon one of the former voyages, which not only showed the spirit of the St. Mary's crew, but also proved that most of the lads had profited by New York's being surrounded by water. One of the boys, a little fellow, had fallen off the boat-yard into the water. The tide had swept him quite a distance from the ship before his cries were heard. When "man overboard!" was shouted, in half a jiffy a score or more of the crew had plunged headlong from the railing and bowsprit after him. In fact, it looked as if the whole ship's company was going for an impromptu swim. Two of the rescuers laid hold of the drowning boy and kept him afloat, while the rest paddled about like a flock of ducks. It took some time for the boat that was hurriedly manned to pick them all up, as the tide had carried some of them quite a distance out. But they were all taken aboard safe and sound, and, as everybody writes when telling of a rescue from "a watery grave," "none the worse for their wetting."
From Southampton the St. Mary's was bound to Cherbourg, France; then to Lisbon, Portugal; Cadiz, Spain; and Gibraltar.
I could well imagine what fun the boys were going to have at the last named place, thy strongest fortress of the English, and the "key of the Mediterranean," as every one says again when speaking of it.
It is from here that the lads always write the longest letters home, for there is much to tell about; and no matter how many times they visit the port afterwards, when in command of their own vessels, perhaps, they will never forget their first sight of the great frowning rock, and their visit to the hidden guns and casemates. In the harbor they find all sorts of strange sailing-craft of the Mediterranean, and hear the jargon of tongues of the multitude of foreign mariners that meet here from all quarters of the globe.
On the return voyage they stop at the Madeira Islands, and thence, setting sail, they make for home, arriving in Long Island Sound about, the last of August. Now, until the middle of October, they spend the time in practical exercises, cruising to and fro in calmer waters; and in the middle of October the St. Mary's returns to her dock in the city.
A leave of two weeks is granted the boys, and it is easy to imagine what heroes they are to their younger brothers and to their old companions who have spent the hot summer in the city.
When they return to the ship on the first of November they find the topmasts housed, the yards taken down, and the deck-house in position for the winter's term of schooling, which begins at once. During the cruise at sea the whole time has been taken up with the study of seamanship and the practice of professional branches of knowledge. They have learned to tie knots, to hand, reef, and steer, and may be pardoned a slight roll in their walk and a tendency to indulge in nautical phraseology.
The boys whose second cruise it has been are found positions on board the American vessels who receive a subsidy under the postal-subsidy bill, for all such are required to be officered by Americans, and to carry a "cadet" for each thousand tons burden. This enables the graduates of the school to step at once into a paying situation, where their education will be of great advantage to them. Maybe some of them make up their minds to go into the navy, or others decide that they are not cut out for the sea, and take up some life on shore; but no matter what they do, they cannot but be benefited by what they have learned and seen.
The first-year boys and the new recruits begin to take up their studies, which are those taught in the common schools—geography, history of the United States, English grammar, arithmetic, algebra, and last, but not least, theoretical navigation. Ship's routine is followed in their daily life, but there is plenty of time for play and skylarking.
When a boy has been graduated from this school, if he has paid attention to his duties and his studies, he is competent to navigate a vessel, he understands thoroughly dead reckoning, and he knows how to find the latitude and longitude by the sun, moon, planets, or stars, and besides this, he knows the duties of a seaman from beginning to end. There is nothing for him to learn about the handling of a sailing-vessel, for he has taken his trick at the wheel, he has learned the rule of the road, and how to give proper orders. He can heave the lead like an old hand, and has had plenty of practice in handling small boats under both oars and sails. The American sailor has proved himself often indeed to be the best afloat, and the lad from the St. Mary's is qualified to take first rank.
During the war of the rebellion many of the commissioned officers were drawn from the ranks of the merchant marine. Had the St. Mary's then been in existence, her boys would have given accounts of themselves, and there is no question that, should at some future time a war arise, there would be places aplenty for them to make use of the knowledge they have gained, or to win laurels in the service of their country. Not long ago a big sailing-ship, returning home from a long cruise, had the misfortune to lose, by death and accident, all of her officers fit to navigate and command her. On board at the time was one of the St. Mary's lads, only nineteen years of age, and the command and responsibility of bringing the great ship safely to port fell upon his shoulders. I am glad to state that he did not fear or shirk the responsibility, and that the grown men under him knew at once that they had a commander who was familiar with his business, and who could be trusted in any emergency, for they encountered severe storms after the boy Captain had assumed command.
The officers of the school-ship are all graduates of Annapolis and appointed by the government, and the petty officers are made up of old men-of-war's men, a few of whom are on board as assistant instructors. The boys, however, fill some of these positions themselves, and thus early assume the duties which teach them how to get on with men who are compelled to obey their orders.
If a boy has a taste for the sea, and his parents have no objections to his selecting it as a calling, he can find out a great deal about the world and not a little about himself by spending two years on board the school-ship St. Mary's.
[THE TRANSFERRED FLAG.]
BY JAMES BUCKHAM.
Frigate and schooner in conflict dread,
Banners throbbing at each mast-head;
England's jack in the smoke and reek,
Stars and stripes at the schooner's peak.
Clash and roar of the awful fight;
Sabres gleaming like shafts of light;
Crack of pistols; a musket's boom;
Shouts and groans in the drifting gloom.
Overhead, in the murk, the flags
Toss, with their edges torn to rags,
Lash at each other, and writhe and snap—
Silken musketry, clap on clap!
See! On the Yankee yard-arm stands
A daring middy, with outspread hands!
He bends, he leaps—and without a slip,
Catches the yard of the British ship!
Up, up, he climbs, till, the cross-trees past,
He reaches the top of the swaying mast.
Then, with a slash of his knife, he throws
The British flag to his country's foes.
Lo! from his bosom, like flame unfurled,
He draws the banner that rules the world,
And nails it there, with its crimson bars
And gleaming glory of unstained stars!
Quick was the brain that conceived the thought,
And brave the deed that the sailor-boy wrought;
Bright he his name on history's roll,
And far the flash of his hero-soul!
[SEED-SOWING.]
BY EMMA J. GRAY.
Gardening is said to come natural to Japanese boys and girls, but there is no reason why our amateur gardeners should not rival them.
Spring has been well named the "mother of the flowers," for then indeed nature wakes. The previously hard soil softens, gentle showers fall, the long sunny days follow one after the other, and serious mistake must indeed have been made at the time of planting if the cheerless winter garden is not readily transformed into beds and bowers of delicate richest color, and bewilderingly beautiful flowers do not send lavish and grateful odor.
An important matter, however, is the preparation of the soil, and another quite as important is to sow seeds late and not early. Then, too, attention must be given to their size and construction. Some seeds are round and tiny, such as the portulaca. These are scattered over the ground and gently mixed by the hand into the soil, while others must be planted, really embedded in the earth, such as sweet-pease. Again, other seeds have a shell-like covering, which must be removed before sowing, and others must be placed in the earth in a special direction. We have all heard of the boy who wondered why his beans didn't grow. On investigation he learned they were growing as fast as possible, only they would have bloomed and borne in China, for he had planted them upside down. Seeds such as the verbena must be planted lengthwise, and there are others which must be soaked before planting at all.
Young gardeners should commence with the easiest-raised plants, and wait until experience and study will lend a hand with the more difficult. And do not forget that the world is full of kind people who will gladly tell you what you do not know.
After sunset is the best time for seed-sowing. When they are sown, gently water, and then cover with an old piece of carpet. This is to keep the ground in a more equal temperature. Every evening pick up the carpet and examine the earth. Keep it moist—not wet—and when the seeds are sprouted replace the carpet with paper. To prevent this blowing, put stones on its outer edges. When the tender shoots are positively strong, hardy enough to withstand violent winds and hot suns, remove the paper. Keep on watch for the unexpected—such as insects, for example, which must be picked off. Weed carefully, and water when necessary.
Beginners may be sure of success if they sow any of the following seeds: Sweet-alyssum and candy-tuft, both of which have delicate white blossoms, and bloom freely from June to October; asters, which are very hardy, and whose colors are without number and exceedingly showy; balsam—or, as usually called, lady's-slipper, both double and single, is an old-fashioned favorite; morning-glories are beautiful, and fine to cover an unsightly pole or unpainted fence; mignonette and pansies will be sweet, while zinnia, portulaca, and marigold will lend brilliance.
[A NATURALIST'S BOYHOOD.]
MR. WILLIAM HAMILTON GIBSON'S START.
BY BARNET PHILLIPS.
am enjoying a book, a picture, a statue, or say a piece of music. I know these to be the finished works of the man or the woman, but I invariably hark back to the boy or the girl.
What I want to discover is the precise time, in the lives of certain boys and girls, when the steel first struck the flint, the spark flew, and out streamed that jet of fire which never afterwards was extinguished.
I was reading an article entitled "Professor Wriggler," written by Mr. William Hamilton Gibson, which appeared in Harper's Young People, in the number of October 31, 1893. I need not tell you that both old and young, at home and abroad, delight in reading what Mr. Hamilton Gibson has written, because he was not alone the most observant of naturalists, but a distinguished artist and a sympathetic author.
THE LATE WILLIAM HAMILTON GIBSON.
He thus filled a peculiar position in the literary and artistic world which is seldom given to any one man to fill. Besides being a naturalist from his boyhood, he was able to write better than most people what he wished to write, and to illustrate his articles in a way that was unique. Mr. Gibson's death a few days ago, therefore, has closed the career of a man who had the ability to interest a large number of people not only in natural history, but in art and literature.
The news of Mr. Gibson's death came to me suddenly, and as I was reading it I recalled an interesting talk I had with him less than a year ago about his work early in life and the way he got his start. I had been reading one of his articles to a lady, who, when she heard the name of the author, said:
"Why, I knew Mr. Hamilton Gibson long ago. When he was a lad he painted a lovely drop-curtain for us. He could not have been more than fifteen or sixteen then."
The next time I met Mr. Hamilton Gibson I asked him about this drop-curtain. "Do you remember it?"
"Certainly I do. We had a temperance society at Sandy Hook, Connecticut, and we gave a grand entertainment. I made the drop-curtain. It represented a wood. There was a rock in the foreground, and a Virginia-creeper was climbing over it."
"Was it an original composition?" I asked.
"I made many studies of the rock and the Virginia-creeper from nature. On the other side of the curtain I painted a drawing-room. There were a marble mantelpiece, a clock, and lace curtains. I don't think I enjoyed painting the clock as much as the Virginia-creeper."
"To paint a drop curtain at fifteen or sixteen means that you had then a certain facility. But that could not have been your beginning. When did you break your shell? What chipped or cracked your egg, so that your particular bird emerged, chirped, and finally took flight? That was what I wanted to know."
"Is that what you are after?" asked Mr. Hamilton Gibson. "From my baby days I was curious about flowers and insects. The two were always united in my mind. What could not have been more than a childish guess was confirmed in my later days." Then Mr. Hamilton Gibson paused. I could see he was recalling, not without emotion, some memories of the long past.
"I was very young, and playing in the woods. I tossed over the fallen leaves, when I came across a chrysalis. There was nothing remarkable in that, for I knew what it was. But, wonderful to relate, providentially I deem it, as I held the object in my hand a butterfly slowly emerged, then fluttered in my fingers."
"You were pleased with its beauty," I said.
"Oh! It was more than that. I do not know whether I was or was not a youngster with an imagination, but suddenly the spiritual view of a new or of another life struck me. I saw in this jewel born from an unadorned casket some inkling of immortality. Yes, that butterfly breaking from its chrysalis in my hand shaped my future career."
"But some young people may feel passing impulses, but how account for your artistic skill and literary powers?"
"As to the art side, at least deftness of hand came early. I had the most methodical of grandmothers. Every day I had a certain task. I made a square of patch-work for a quilt. I learned how to sew, and I can sew neatly to-day. I knew how to use my fingers."
"Did you like patch-work?" I inquired.
"I simply despised it. Sewing must have helped me, for it was eye-training, and when I went to work with a pencil and a paint-brush I really had no trouble. I read a great deal. I devoured Cooper's novels and the Rollo series; but there was one special volume, Harris on Insects, I never tired of. I studied that over and over again. It was the illustrations of Marsh which fascinated me. I never found a bug, caterpillar, or butterfly that I did not compare my specimens with the Marsh pictures. I learned this way much which I have never forgotten."
"Had you any particular advantages?"
"Yes; my brother was a doctor, and he let me use his microscope, and so I acquired a knowledge of the details of flowers and insects that escape the naked eye. I pulled flowers to pieces, but not in the spirit of destruction, but so that I might better understand their structure. When I was ten I had a long illness. When I was getting better, I was permitted to take an hour's or so turn in the garden. That hour I devoted to collecting insects and flowers. On my return to my room, what I had collected amused me until I could get out again next day or the day after."
"It was pleasure and study combined," I said.
"I was not conscious that I was studying. Then in my sick-room I began to draw and paint the insects. I think I was conscientious about it, and careful—perhaps minutely so. I tried to put on paper exactly what I saw, and nothing else. You say you like 'Professor Wriggler.' I drew him when I was ten or eleven, and I could not make him any more accurate to-day than I did thirty years ago."
"Were you encouraged at your work?" I inquired.
"Yes; once I was much pleased. I came across a curious insect. I could not find it in the books. I made a drawing of it and sent it to a professor of the Smithsonian, asking him to give me its scientific name. Back came by return mail my sketch, and under it the Latin name. The professor wrote me that if the people who were always annoying him with pictures of impossible bugs would only send him as accurate a picture as was mine, he never would have any more bother."
"Did you have any setbacks?"
"Yes; and I haven't forgotten it up to to-day. I was always collecting, and I had brought together every insect I had found in my neighborhood. As I took them home I pinned them in the drawers of an old-fashioned bureau. In time the whole of the drawers, bottom and sides, were full of pinned specimens, and there was room for no more. I had saved enough money to buy a cabinet, and I went to New York and purchased one. When I returned home the first thing I did was to look at my precious collection. When I opened a drawer there was a confused mass of wings only. One single wretch of a black ant had got in, and had passed the word to 10,000 other black ants. They had eaten the bodies of my insects in all the drawers. That quite broke my heart."
"But your writing. How did that come about?" I asked.
"I don't think that you can develop in one direction only. You must unbosom yourself. You are forced to tell or to write about the things you have most at heart. When I was a small boy I wrote a book for myself, and called it 'Botany on the Half-shell.' The first thing I ever wrote which was printed was an article for one of Messrs. Harper's publications, and I made the pictures for it. That was my début."
"Then your work went hand in hand?"
MR. GIBSON AT WORK IN HIS STUDIO.
"Certainly. The one was the stimulant of the other. We all grew up together. The days spent in my room when I was ill helped me. I think I studied flowers then, so that their forms and colors were indelibly impressed on my mind. When I was older I made a small bunch of flowers in wax. Not a detail escaped me. I made moulds of all kinds of leaves. Once I put together a rose, some sprigs of mignonette and heliotrope in wax, and gave them to my dear old friend, Henry Ward Beecher. He was delighted with my flowers, and put them on his study table. Presently Mrs. Beecher came in. She ran to the flowers and broke the rose all to pieces.
"How could she have done that?" I asked.
"It must have been with her nose. She wanted to smell the rose."
Then Mr Hamilton Gibson showed me some monster drawings of flowers—Brobdingnagian ones. The flowers opened and closed when you pulled a string, showing their interior structure. Here were bees or other insects, and they flew into the flowers, collected the honey, and, above all, the pollen, and buzzed out again. He explained to me how plant life would perish were it not for certain insects, which bring a new existence to flowers; for without these winged helpers there would be no longer any varieties of flowers or seeds.
You will see, then, that in tracing the beginning of Mr. Hamilton Gibson's career what I mean by harking backwards.
I am certain, too, that in every boy and girl there is something good and excellent. Like the flower visited by the bee, all it wants is impulse. Then, as Mr. Hamilton Gibson explained it to me, will come the blossoming, and lastly perfect fruitage.
The choice of officials at the National Games is another subject which will bear discussion, and although I have reserved it until the last, it must not be considered that this is because I have considered it of any less importance than the various subjects connected with these games that have been discussed within the past few weeks in this Department. All who regularly attend interscholastic track and field games, especially graduates of the New York schools, and those who watch their young brothers and cousins in their indulgence in sport, were much surprised when they looked over the programme of the National Games and saw the list of men who had been invited to act as officials.
There is a certain number of gentlemen in this city who have become so thoroughly identified with school-boy sports that their names are always to be found on the list of officials at interscholastic games. At the National Games, however, it was different, and there are many who resented the change.
In the first place, school sports—and college sports, for that matter—are supposed to be somewhat different in tone from other sports, even from those of amateur athletic associations. We try to conduct them on a higher plane, and we try to give to them a purer spirit of amateurism and comradeship than can be obtained by other organizations. And in carrying out this idea it has always been the custom to have school or college graduates act as officials.
At the National Games this unwritten law or custom was not carried out, and many of the New York school-boys felt that the visiting athletes were receiving a wrong impression of the way in which we do things down here. Many questioned me concerning the change that they noticed on the first page of the programme, but being no wiser than they at the time, I was unable to enlighten them. Since then, however, I have learned that the change was due to ignorance on the part of the managers of the day rather than to any desire for reform.
INTERSCHOLASTIC RECORDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
| Event. | Maker. | ||||
| 100-yard dash | 10-1/5 | sec. | F. H. Bigelow. | ||
| 220-yard run | 22-2/5 | " | F. H. Bigelow. | ||
| 440-yard run | 50-3/5 | " | T. E. Burke. | ||
| Half-mile run | 2 | m. | 1-1/5 | " | R. H. Hanson. |
| Mile run | 4 | " | 32-2/5 | " | W. T. Laing. |
| Mile walk | 7 | " | 11-3/5 | " | J. S. Eells. |
| 120-yard hurdle (3 ft. 6 in.) | 17 | " | E. C. Perkins. | ||
| 220-yard hurdle (2 ft. 6 in.) | 26½ | " | E. D. Field. | ||
| Mile bicycle | 2 | " | 34-1/5 | " | I. A. Powell. |
| Two-mile bicycle | 5 | " | 18-2/5 | " | G. F. Baker, Jun. |
| Running high jump | 5 | ft. | 11 | in. | S. A. W. Baltazzi. |
| Running broad jump | 21 | " | 7 | " | A. Cheek. |
| Pole vault | 10 | " | 9 | " | B. Johnson. |
| Throwing 12-lb. hammer | 125 | " | R. T. Johnson. | ||
| Throwing 16-lb. hammer | 118 | " | 2¾ | " | F. C. Ingalls. |
| Putting 12-lb. shot | 42 | " | 5½ | " | Patterson. |
| Putting 16-lb. shot | 39 | " | 3 | " | M. C. O'Brien. |
| Event. | School. | Time and Place. |
| 100-yard dash | Worcester H.-S. | N.E.I.S.A.A. games, June 9, 1894. |
| 220-yard run | Worcester H.-S. | N.E.I.S.A.A. games, June 9, 1894. |
| 440-yard run | Boston English H.-S. | N.E.I.S.A.A. games, June 9, 1894. |
| Half-mile run | Boston English H.-S. | N.Y.I.S.A.A. games, June 5, 1896. |
| Mile run | Phillips Academy, Andover. | N.E.I.S.A.A. games, June 9, 1894. |
| Mile walk | Hotchkiss, Lakeville, Conn. | Conn. H.-S.A.A. games, June 6, 1896. |
| 120-yard hurdle (3 ft. 6 in.) | Hartford H.-S. | Conn. H.-S.A.A. games, 1894. |
| 220-yard hurdle (2 ft. 6 in.) | Hartford H.-S. | Conn. H.-S.A.A. games, June 8, 1895. |
| Mile bicycle | Cutler, N.Y. | N.Y.I.S.A.A. games, May 11, 1895. |
| Two-mile bicycle | Hotchkiss, Lakeville, Conn. | Conn. H.-S.A.A. games, June 8, 1895. |
| Running high jump | Harvard, N.Y. | N.Y.I.S.A.A. games, May 11, 1895. |
| Running broad jump | Oakland, Cal., H.-S. | A.A.L. field day, Oct. 16, 1894. |
| Pole vault | Worcester Academy. | N.E.I.S.A.A. games, June 5, 1896. |
| Throwing 12-lb. hammer | Brookline H.-S. | N.E.I.S.A.A. games, June 9, 1894. |
| Throwing 16-lb. hammer | Hartford H.-S. | Conn. H.-S.A.A. games, June 6, 1896. |
| Putting 12-lb. shot | Evansville. | Wis. I.S.A.A. games, May 30, 1896. |
| Putting 16-lb. shot | Boston English H.-S. | N.E.I.S.A.A. games, 1894. |
The Knickerbocker Athletic Club is a newcomer in athletics, and its officials do not know yet, or did not know at the time of the National Games, that there are, as I have stated, half a dozen gentlemen in this city who almost always hold certain official positions on interscholastic occasions. Of course such ignorance is pardonable, but I do not think that the Knickerbocker managers should be so readily pardoned for inviting certain gentlemen to act as officials without consulting the officers of the National Association. So far as I am able to find out, the Knickerbocker Club did not submit the names of those whom they had chosen to act as officials to any officer of the National Association, and the latter, so I am told, did not know who were to act as referee and judges until shortly before they reached the Columbia Oval on the afternoon of June 20.
Bayne, c.f. Young, l.f. Grant, s.s. Hasbrouck, 2 b. Wiley, c.
Huntington, r.f. Pell, 1 b. Bien, Jun., p. Fleming, 3 b.
THE BERKELEY SCHOOL BASEBALL NINE.—Champions N.Y.I.S.A.A.
It was too late then to make any changes, of course, and all the officers of the National Association could do was to blame themselves for their own carelessness and thoughtlessness in not asking to see a list of the officials a week before the games. There was no fault to be found with the manner in which the gentlemen chosen by the Knickerbocker Club performed their duties, yet there was an indescribable something lacking on the field that day which we have always felt and appreciated at other interscholastic functions.
There was not exactly an air of professionalism about the proceedings, and yet the officials went about their work in such a "professional" way that the gentle, amateur, leisurely atmosphere of other times and seasons was not there. Furthermore, there was a slight inclination toward bossism in some quarters; and young men who are taking part in amateur sports do not care to be bossed, and if they have reason to suspect that they are going to be bossed, it may be put down as a certainty that they will not again compete under similar conditions. I haven't any doubt that next year, no matter under what conditions the National Games are held, the officers of the Association will choose their own officials, and there will be found among them the same gentlemen who for years have helped to make school-boy field days the pleasant affairs they always are.
But it is only just to say to any organization, whether it be in New York or in any other city, which hopes to succeed in the management of school-boy sports, that it must carry out the school-boy idea of the proprieties of things; and school-boys have very distinct ideas of what they want; and if school-boys are pleased to have certain gentlemen, school and college graduates, to act as officials at their sports, these same gentlemen must be asked to hold these same positions, or the organization will very soon lose favor in scholastic eyes. Nevertheless, the schools must remember that the Knickerbocker Athletic Club is the first that ever did anything for interscholastic sport, and for this reason they should be willing to overlook a great deal.
L. Biddle bow. Goodwin, 2. N. Biddle, 3. Niedecken, 4.
Howard, 5. Brock, 6. Shiverick; cox. Wheeler, 7. Thomas, stroke.
THE VICTORIOUS HALCYON CREW, ST. PAUL'S SCHOOL, CONCORD.
A number of years ago it was a very common thing for college men and other amateurs to devote a large part of their summer to the playing of baseball. So popular did this playing on "summer nines" become that a number of hotels offered inducements to clever amateur players to come and spend a few weeks at their resort in order that the locality might have a good baseball nine as a sort of summer attraction. The custom went from bad to worse, until summer resorts actually began to bid one against the other for the most capable players.
Many amateurs who would not for a moment have considered any other kind of proposition found that they had easy consciences when it was merely a question of taking a reduction in board and lodging. They seemed to fail to recognize the fact that by accepting such a reduction they were practically accepting the sum of money which the hotel-keeper subtracted from their bills at the end of their stay. In some cases, too, no bills at all were submitted to the baseball boarders. Thus amateurs were rapidly sliding into the path of professionalism, and the colleges found that they must take some steps to interfere with summer baseball playing.
All of the colleges now, I think, with the possible exception of Brown, have rules forbidding the playing of baseball on "summer nines," the penalty being that any member of the college who does this becomes ineligible to any university team. And thus summer playing for college men has been effectively put a stop to.
The colleges, however, cannot legislate against players who are not members of their institutions, and they have found it difficult to prevent sub-Freshmen or school-boy players from accepting the favors of hotel-keepers or others in return for belonging to the hotel's nine. Princeton, however, has seized the bull by the horns, and has issued a decree, which was sent around to all the preparatory schools last spring, stating that no one will be considered eligible to any of the university teams who has at any time played for any sort of compensation.
This is an excellent rule, and will effectively put a stop to summer ball-playing by young men who are preparing for Princeton, and who hope to achieve the honor of playing on the university nine. It is to be hoped that every other university and college in this country will adopt similar rules.
But aside from the penalties that are to be incurred for playing on "summer nines," there must be a number of other reasons that will prevent school-boys from running the risk of being looked upon as semi-professionals. I say "semi-professionals," although there is really no half-way house between amateurism and professionalism. If a young man accepts reduced board at any time, or a uniform, or a pair of shoes or stockings, or in fact anything that has any commercial value whatever, as a reward for any kind of services rendered in athletics, he is a professional.
NATIONAL INTERSCHOLASTIC RECORDS.
| Event. | Holder. | ||||
| 100-yard dash | 10-1/5 | sec. | W. H. Jones, New England I.S.A.A. | ||
| 220-yard dash | 22-2/5 | " | W. H. Jones, New England I.S.A.A. | ||
| Quarter-mile run | 51-2/5 | " | H. L. Washburn, New York I.S.A.A. | ||
| Half-mile run | 1 | m. | 59-3/5 | " | W. S. Hipple, New York I.S.A.A. |
| One-mile run | 5 | " | 10-1/5 | " | D. T. Sullivan, New England I.S.A.A. |
| 120-yard hurdles (3 ft. 6 in.) | 16-4/5 | " | A. F. Beers, New York I.S.A.A. | ||
| 220-yard hurdles (2 ft. 6 in.) | 26-2/5 | " | J. H. Converse, New England I.S.A.A. | ||
| One-mile walk | 7 | " | 53-2/5 | " | A. L. O'Toole, New England I.S.A.A. |
| One-mile bicycle | 2 | " | 36 | " | O. C. Roehr, Long Island I.S.A.A. |
| Running high jump | 5 | ft. | 8 | in. | { F. R. Sturtevant, Connecticut H.-S.A.A. |
| { T. Flourney, Iowa State H.-S.A.A. | |||||
| Running broad jump | 21 | " | 1 | " | H. Brown, Connecticut H.-S.A.A. |
| Pole vault | 10 | " | 5 | " | R. G. Clapp, New England I.S.A.A. |
| Throwing 12-lb. hammer | 129 | " | 10 | " | F. C. Ingalls, Connecticut H.-S.A.A. |
| Putting 12-lb. shot | 43 | " | 4 | " | F. C. Ingalls, Connecticut H.-S.A.A. |
The word "professional" means an individual who performs in athletics for the sake of the reward that he is to receive. It does not make any difference whether this reward comes to him in cash, clothing, or pie. And he cannot evade being classed among professionals if he once accepts any kind of remuneration. Of course it seems different to those young men who do not think seriously about the ethics of sport. They think that they are not accepting any remuneration if they allow a hotel-keeper or an athletic club to furnish them with a suit of clothes—a baseball uniform—and pay their expenses.
They argue that it is only just, if they are playing baseball, that their expenses to and from neighboring resorts should be paid, and they do not see why the hotel or the club, if it chooses to, should not present uniforms to the young men who are playing ball. But it seems to me that this very argument is strongest when looked at from the other side. The young men who accept uniforms or expenses do so because they feel that it is worth while for the hotel man or the club to spend that money to have them play baseball.
Therefore, if it is worth anything to the hotel man to pay them this money, their services acquire a commercial value. As soon as services are recognized to have a commercial value, and are paid for, either directly or indirectly, the one who accepts the reward or remuneration, either directly in cash or clothing, or indirectly in railroad fare and hotel bills, becomes a professional, for he has made use of his ability as an athlete to obtain railroad transportation or board at no expense to himself beyond his skill as an athlete.
There is a difference in playing at summer resorts for the sport of the thing and in playing for the advantage of it. Young men who like to play baseball, and who can get up a nine wherever they happen to be this summer, should do so by all means, for there is nothing healthier than sport of this kind. But they should not allow any one to let them derive any kind of financial advantage from the fact that they know how to play baseball, and they should not allow any of their friends or admirers to induce them to go to any certain resort because they know how to play baseball.
Young men usually want to do what they consider the right thing, and what their older brothers and their friends among older men consider the right thing. College men have come to the conclusion that playing on summer nines is a bad thing for amateur sport, and if there are a number of young men, readers of this Department, not yet in college, who have not given sufficient thought to the matter, and who very possibly cannot see the serious side of the question just now, let them, for the present, rest upon the judgment of the college men, and abide by their decision, and when they get to be college men themselves they will appreciate the situation as they cannot now, and they will be very glad that they left playing on "summer nines" to others who were not such thorough sportsmen as they, and who by so doing lose much that they can never regain in after years.
This Department prints again this week a table of the Interscholastic records of the United States, and also a table of the National Interscholastic records, in order that many who have not made a distinction between these two classes of figures may see what this difference is. As was stated last week, a National Interscholastic record is one made at the National Games, whereas an Interscholastic record is one made at any interscholastic field-meeting. We may feel perfectly sure that the figures as printed in the National table are absolutely correct, for there has been only one National Interscholastic meeting, that of June 20 of this year.
The Berkeley School nine, which won the Interscholastic Championship this year, is undoubtedly one of the strongest baseball teams ever developed at any of the New York city schools. This team earned the championship of the Association by 167-10. The team was an unusually hard-hitting one, and in one game alone the Berkeley players pounded out eight home runs. The best individual work of the team was done by Wiley, Pell, and Huntington. Wiley will undoubtedly be known in a few years as one of the best amateur catchers, and if he goes to college he should make a record for himself on the diamond.
"TRACK ATHLETICS IN DETAIL."—Illustrated.—8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.
The Graduate.
