[to be continued.]
[RIGS AND MAKESHIFTS OF THE SMALL BOAT.]
BY DUDLEY D. F. PARKER.
While a boy may not have occasion or the good fortune to handle or own a large boat, he is almost certain, if he lives near water, to have something to do with a bateau, skiff, or small boat of some character. Or perchance he may own a row-boat of the St. Lawrence skiff variety, and may wish to put a sail on it. Now there is nothing more clumsy and dangerous than a badly rigged small boat. By badly rigged is not meant only the boat whose spars are imperfect, or other things connected with her rig radically wrong, but also the boat that carries a rig that may be perfectly suitable for another class, but is entirely out of place in one of this size. A thing to be avoided in all small boats is unnecessary rigging; too many halyards and sheet ropes are in the way, and, where the rigging is on a very small scale, are very apt to get tangled or out of order when most wanted. So it may readily be seen that, for instance, the jib-and-mainsail rig of a twenty-five-foot boat, with its accompanying number of sheets, stays, and halyards would be totally out of place in a fourteen-foot bateau. The whole attention of the natives or "shell-backs" in or near our fishing villages has been devoted to the originating of makeshifts for the avoidance of everything that makes the construction and handling of a boat more difficult. Their idea seems to have been that anything that could be accomplished without the aid of mechanical means, simply by the use of a little extra muscle, had better be done that way.
PLATE 1.
PLATE 2.
PLATE 3.
It might be said that in the small boat are seen the various rigs, in their simplicity, whose principles have been elaborated and altered to meet the different conditions required. Taking them in order of simplicity, we first come to the "leg-o'-mutton" rig. Here only two spars are used, and no halyards. In No. 1 (Plate I) the boom has no jaws, and is held in place at the mast by catching the projecting end in a sling, and by poking the other end through a cringle in the leech. The only lacing required is to fasten the sail to the mast, the sail only being fastened to the boom (more properly sprit) at the points mentioned. If it is found to bag, the remedy is to shorten the sling until the sail sets flatly. This can never be entirely accomplished, as the sail, being supported by the boom only at the extreme outer end and the mast at the other, is very apt to stretch in a stiff breeze.
Advancing a step, we come to the remedy of this trouble (Fig. 2, Plate I). It is the introduction of jaws at the mast, instead of the rope sling. The tendency to bag is removed, as the sail is fastened at frequent intervals by lacing to the boom, along which it may be kept stretched tightly. Also the tendency of the boom to slide forward is effaced as it butts up against the mast. In this method a much lighter spar can be used, as the strain is made to come more or less throughout its whole length, whilst in the first-mentioned it comes wholly at the ends. The principal objection against the "leg-o'-mutton" rig in general is the great length of mast required. This is one of its most serious drawbacks, and the other is the inability to reef the sail. Of course modifications of this rig have been made, introducing halyards and supplying reef points, but a discussion of that is beyond the scope of this paper, such modifications being rarely seen on a small boat.
As mention has been made of lacing a sail to spars, perhaps it would be just as well to digress a little here, and speak of three well-known methods of lacing. The first, A, (Plate III), is the simplest and about as effective as any. The sail is fastened to the boom by an "over-and-over" lacing. In B, the sail is held by a series of "half-hitches," and in the third, or C, the lacing runs through eyes screwed into the boom.
The next step in rendering the rig more compact is to shorten the mast. This can only be done at the cost of an increase in the complexity of the rigging. A new spar is introduced, and the sail is cut down from a triangle to an area having four sides. Some means had to be found to support the upper edge, and a study of the last three sail plans will show some of the methods in use. Figs. 3 and 4 are nearly equal, as far as simplicity goes, though Fig. 3 is simpler on account of the absence of lacings on the upper edge. This is commonly known as the "sprit-sail," and, taking all things into consideration, it seems to be the most efficient and handiest of all the rigs. Of course it is not as efficient in some respects as the sail in Fig. 5, the same trouble being experienced on the top edge as in the "leg-o'-mutton"—bagging—but it possesses the advantage of greater simplicity. If we examine this rig we will readily see that it is any large fore-and-aft sail reduced to its simplest form. We find, instead of the gaff and the two halyards to hold the sail up, all this is replaced by the simple device of the pole (sprit), one end of which is stuck in a cringle in the upper corner of the sail, and the other caught in a sling. The sail does not move on the mast, and is laced to it. The boom has jaws at the mast, and the sail is laced on, or sometimes the device shown in No. 1 is resorted to, though the former method will be found to make this sail set better. There are no reef points, and the only way to reef is to drop the peak by removing the sprit. Of course it must be understood that this rig is not at all practicable in a boat of any size, but in any of about the size of a row-boat it will be found to be most convenient.
In the next device (No. 4) we approach nearer to the regular "fore-and-aft" sail. There can be seen the introduction of a yard to which the upper edge of the sail is laced, as to the ordinary gaff. No halyards are used, and the yard is lashed to the mast, and held at the proper angle to keep the sail flat by a rope fastening its lower extremity to the mast. The only objection to this rig is that the yard has a tendency to give and to permit the sail to bag. This rig is frequently seen on duck-boats. There is no method of reefing except dropping the yard, unless reef points are introduced.
A DUCK-BOAT TYPE.
Taking a step further we come to the "fore-and-aft" sail proper. Here we find the introduction of a gaff, which might be looked upon as the shortening of the yard in the preceding rig. There are jaws on both boom and gaff, and the sail is movable on the mast, being usually held on by loops, the gaff moving up and down. To take the place of the lashings in the preceding rigs, ropes (halyards) fastened to this spar and passing through blocks at the mast-head and so down have been introduced. Because of the ability to hoist and lower the sail, reefing is accomplished by a row, or rows, of little ropes (reef points), by which it is tied down, thus reducing it to almost any size desired according to the number of reefs tied in. Most small sails of this character have at least one row, and some two; though the small cat-boat usually has three. In a previous article (Harper's Round Table, No. 827) a description of how to tie a reef in the sail of a larger boat was given. The principle is the same in all sized sails, and perhaps it will only be necessary to add here that the reef points are not tied around the boom but around the part of the sail taken in by the reef (D, Plate III). The stop at the outer cringle, however, is tied around the boom. A simple means of reefing, which may be used in all the rigs except the first, is by rows of holes of the same character as the leech cringle; and after pulling the sail down to the proper distance (most sails laced to the mast can, with a little care, be moved), hold the reef in by a single lacing through them, in the same manner as the sail is laced on in A. A stop at the leech is required, as in the preceding method.
ST. LAWRENCE SKIFF WITH FORE-AND-AFT SAIL.
Many combinations are made with the jib. There seems to be about only one common way of rigging a jib for a small boat. A pretty clear idea may be gained from the sketch (Plate I). As may be seen, no stay is used, the sail usually being bound with a rope, which gives it sufficient strength; no halyard is used, either the jib being lashed to the mast, and lowered and hoisted when it is stepped or unstepped. The lower edge is laced to a boom, which is secured to the bow with a lashing about four inches long, a third of its length projecting. The sheet rope is fastened to the inner extremity. The most common combination is the jib and sprit-sail, generally known as the "skiff rig" (see sketch). It is quite often used with one of the "leg-o'-mutton" sails. The most general use of the "leg-o'-mutton" types, however, is either two together, as in the sharpie rig, or separately as the only sail in the boat.
A SHARPIE-RIGGED OYSTER-BOAT.
Perhaps a few words on the spars would be in place here. First, taking the stick itself; it should always be a straight-grained piece of wood, as free from knots as possible, and well seasoned. The several spars require different degrees of tapering. The aim of the taper is to reduce weight, by concentrating the greatest amount of material at the point most strained, and removing the surplus. The mast should leave little taper, except in the "leg-o'-mutton"—where it is tapered very much towards the head—and ought to be nearly the same size throughout its whole length, the thickest part, if any, from a short distance above the deck or brace to a few inches below. It should have a slight taper at the head and a pretty good sized one at the heel where it enters the step. The boom should have a slight gradual taper, the thickest part being between a quarter and a third of the distance from the mast to the end of the spar, and the mast end much heavier than the other. The making of the jaws has been described in a previous article (Harper's Round Table, No. 818). The thickest part of the gaff should be about a third of the distance from the mast. The sprit should be about the same thickness throughout its entire length. In the yard rig the thickest part of the yard should be in about the same relative position to the mast as it is in the gaff.
A DOUBLE-END CLAM-BOAT.
Turning now to the rigging of the boat; the only one of the rigs requiring halyards is the fore-and-aft sail (No. 5). The method of threading can readily be understood from a study of the sketch. No. 5 (Plate II) is only practicable for a small boat, but No. 6 is more suitable for a larger one. About the only other thing requiring mention in the rigging are the different methods of reeving the sheet rope. No. 1 and No. 2 are the simplest, the only difference between them being the positions of the fastened ends. In the first the end is secured to the boat, and in the second it is fastened to the boom. The device shown in the third sketch is a trifle more complicated. The fourth one is the most intricate of all, but has the least drag on the sheet, as every time the rope passes over a wheel in a block by so much is the pull diminished. This rig requires the introduction of a double block on the traveller, and perhaps a snatch block to ease the pull when close hauled.
As blocks have been mentioned, perhaps it would be as well to say that small galvanized iron blocks can be procured at very little cost, and will accomplish all that is required of them. Of course, if the boat's owner is inclined to spend more money, wooden blocks will make the rigging neater and run easier. Travellers are used to fasten sheet ropes to the boat, and may be made in two ways, either out of iron or rope. The iron traveller in this case is an iron rod carrying a ring to which the block is attached, bent down at the ends, which are threaded and fastened with nuts through the stern. The rope traveller is a strong cotton rope, the ends fastened on each side of the boat, and the rope passing through a ring on the lower side of the block. In the rigging may be also included the cleats for belaying the halyards and sheets. For the halyards, and for purposes where it is desirable to fasten the rope securely and for some time, a cleat shaped like E is best; but if it is desired to fasten the rope temporarily, or to use it as a means of breaking the pull on the rope, the jam-cleat F is the most efficient, a turn or two causing the rope to jam. Leaving the rigging, we will turn to the boat proper.
SKIFF-RIGGED BATEAU.
There are three methods of keeping a boat from making leeway (going side-ways)—by a centre-board, leeboard, or keel. The last is impracticable for a small boat, and will not be considered. There are two varieties of centreboards in use—the ordinary drop pattern, as used in the larger boats, and the dagger. The drop is generally triangular in shape, held in place by a pin at the lower corner of the trunk passing through the apex. The dagger is only a board or board shaving a projecting cap on the top, so that it will not fall through the trunk, and is lifted entirely clear when not wanted. The drop pattern is a little more convenient, but somewhat difficult to make. The drop is just as efficient, and can never get out of order, whilst easily replaced if broken. It is the one most used by the "natives." The only danger of this board, and one that must be always borne in mind when sailing in waters where bars abound, is that it cannot raise up when it strikes an obstruction as the drop will, and, if you are not watchful, may upset your boat. The leeboard seems only a miserable apology at the best, and is only pardonable when you do not desire to cut a hole in your boat's bottom to build a trunk. The only practicable method is to make a movable board with clamps that fit over the gunwale, and move it to the lee side as the boat's course changes. In a previous article (Harper's Round Table No. 818) there has been described how to make a rudder with tiller and yoke-line attachments, and it will be unnecessary to go into details here. The yoke lines are sometimes the only way of steering in some types of boats, as, for example, the St. Lawrence skiffs. In the sea skiffs and river bateaux there is an extremely simple means of steering by an oar. It is held in two places, either in a lock or groove cut in the stern-board or under the lee counter. The stern oar is used in much the same manner as a rudder, but the lee oar is kept out of the water most of the time, only being immersed when the boat begins to fetch up, and taken out as soon as this tendency is corrected. The reason of this is that the oar, being rested against the gunwale, projects over the side at quite an angle from the fore and aft, and hence, if kept in all the time, it would throw the boat's head off.
There is quite an extensive use of the jib in this class of boats. The jib can be made to exert quite an influence on the boat's speed, and if the sails are nearly balanced the boat can be held on a straight course by proper trimming. It is only by experience that the trim of the jib can be learned, as it depends on the balancing of the sails, on how close you are sailing, and on the strength of the wind. When going about let slack the jib-sheet just before the boat begins to round up, trimming it again when on the other tack. If the jib is out too far it has a tendency to flap, and if too flat, there is a tendency of the boat's head to fall off the wind.
[A SKATING ADVENTURE.]
Tim lived in Minnesota. His mother had forbidden his attending a skating carnival that was to be held at some lumber mills ten miles down the river. Against her orders, however, Tim had clapped on his skates, and was whirring along the frozen stream.
He kept in the middle of the stream to avoid the dark shadows cast by the trees and any soft ice along the banks. It was a beautiful moonlight night, sharp and cold. The pine and fir trees along the banks crystallized with ice crackled as the wind sighed through them. He had gone about five miles, and was speeding along past some small brush that lined the bank, when he heard the noise of something heavy crashing through it. The thought of wolves came to his mind, and he grew frightened.
He looked in the direction of the sounds, and there, skulking along, was a dark shadow, surely a wolf. Thoroughly frightened, he paused, and then thinking he would not be noticed, slowly turned, and began skating back. But the dark shadow hesitated, and then also turned and followed him. Tim skated faster and faster, but on came the shadow. Fear now fell upon him and lent him additional speed, and his skates fairly hummed along over the ice.
The dark shadow had left the bank, and had taken to the centre of the frozen stream, bounding along after Tim with rapid leaps. As Tim glanced back he was sure he could see the red distended nostrils and gleaming eyes of the wolf, his tongue hanging from his mouth.
Every now and then came the sharp yelp of the animal, and on the still air he could plainly hear its panting breath. "Oh, why did I come?" he thought, and the tears froze on his cheeks. At last a light appeared. It was his house. He knew that wolves seldom enter a clearing or village, and with renewed efforts he made for the foot of his garden, that bordered on the river. But on came the panting shadow, and as he reached the garden and attempted to run up the bank his skates tripped him. With a loud cry for help he fell.
When he came to, the blue starry sky stared down at him, and the fearful dark shadow was softly licking his face. Then Tim saw what a coward he had been, for it was neighbor Ransom's big Newfoundland dog that had been lost a couple of days before.
The dog, seeing and recognizing Tim, had joyfully chased after him, doubtless thinking he was skating away from him in fun. Tim got up slowly, thoroughly frightened by his evening's adventure, and unclamping his skates, determined that he would never disobey his mother again.
[GYPSY'S FURY.]
BY WILLIAM HEMMINGWAY.
f all the wild animals tamed by man, the elephant is in many respects the most dangerous and treacherous. All old animal-trainers know that. In spite of the many tales that are told about the good nature and honesty of these gigantic brutes, no experienced man will trust them. You will notice, for example, at the circus, that the man who puts the herd of elephants through a lot of tricks always faces them, or, if he turns his back, he does so only for an instant. And while the crowd is applauding the evolutions and capers of the big fellows, you will notice half a dozen helpers armed with elephant hooks ready to jump into the ring and help the trainer at a moment's notice. No one can tell at what moment an elephant may become sulky and obstinate. When that happens the brute must be led away as soon as possible. It is useless to try to force him to go on with his tricks.
Living for years in confinement, having little exercise or none, the poor elephants become sickly, worried, and irritable. They suffer physical changes. If you look closely at an elephant that has been kept long in captivity, you will see that the knees of his hind legs are bent inward, and that the legs look weak and wobbly. That is the result of swaying from side to side, which the elephant does partly from nervousness and partly from want of exercise. The beasts deteriorate mentally in as great a degree, and you will find it the rule that old elephants are bad-tempered.
In Chicago, not long ago, Gypsy, a gigantic elephant, killed a man, and kept a whole neighborhood in terror for three hours. The man had been warned to keep away from her, and his overconfidence in his ability to subdue the savage beast cost him his life.
Gypsy is forty-five years old, and weighs five tons. She spent the winter in Chicago with a circus, and was kept in a stable at No. 232 South Robny Street. Her name used to be Empress years ago, but she killed a man, and her owners gave her a new name and hoped she would never become vicious again. But an elephant that goes wild is like a horse that runs away. She may not misbehave for a long time, but she is almost certain to do great harm sooner or later. Gypsy had been irritated for several days before her outbreak. Her regular trainer and handler, Bernard Shea, was called away to Omaha, and Gypsy did not like to be left in the care of a stranger. She was not fond of Frank Scott, who took charge of her. She allowed him to bring her food and water, but she grew angry whenever he took her out for exercise. On Tuesday night she saw a mouse running along a ledge in the barn, and this frightened her into a panic. She trumpeted and tugged at her chain, and could hardly be quieted. Scott did all he could to soothe her, but she was restless all night long.
Frank Scott took Gypsy out for exercise early on Wednesday afternoon. W. H. Harris, who owns the elephant, says he often warned Scott not to do this, but the man persisted. There is an alley between Jackson and Van Buren streets, and here the keeper made the big beast trot up and down for ten minutes, while he sat astride of her neck close behind the back of her huge head. Twice she balked and shook her great ears, but Scott jabbed her with a sharp prod and forced her to go on. This prod or hook is a bit of steel shaped like a rooster's spur, fastened to the end of a short thick wooden handle. It has been the instrument used for ages in controlling elephants. When Gypsy came to the door of the barn again she stopped, and tried to turn in. There was a malicious gleam in her little eyes, and she had swung her ears forward—a sure sign of anger in an elephant.
"Go on, Gyp!" Scott commanded, sharply. But the elephant shook her head and advanced toward the barn door. The man drove the steel hook deep into her ear. She screamed with pain, and with a wild toss of her head threw Scott to the ground. She wrapped her trunk around him, and picked him up as easily as you would lift a little doll. She held him high above her head and roared. Mr. Harris, her owner, and three other men who had been attracted by the noise came running up the alley. Mr. Harris shouted to the elephant to be still, but she seemed not to hear him. She walked across the alley, and threw Scott against a building. An ambulance and a squad of twelve policemen had been called now, but they could do nothing for a time. Gypsy was infuriated, and she charged wildly up and down the alley. As she ran away again, two men quickly jumped out of the barn and carried Scott in. The ambulance took him to the hospital, but he never recovered consciousness.
More than five hundred persons had gathered by this time to see the furious elephant. The police had all they could do to keep many of them out of the alley. Two policemen, leaving the box from which they had sent a call for the patrol wagon, had to run to avoid Gypsy. A blow from her trunk swept past them with a rush that doubled their speed. Thirty-six more policemen came up and helped to drive back the crowd. The streets for blocks around were cleared of people, because if the mad beast should choose to leave the alley she could not be stopped, and she would certainly kill everybody she could reach. It would be too late to try to escape after she came out, for a mad elephant runs like the wind. The speed of a horse is child's play compared with the mighty rush of this clumsy giant when enraged. All the fire-arms in the neighborhood were brought out, but the circus men prevailed on the police not to let them be used, as ordinary rifle-bullets would only have made Gypsy more angry without hurting her at all.
After running up and down the alley until she was tired, Gypsy at last sauntered into the barn. The circus men quickly closed the doors behind her. These doors were made of great oak planks four inches thick, firmly riveted together, yet they were no more of a barrier to the elephant than a paper hoop is to a circus rider. The moment Gypsy heard the doors swing into place she wheeled around and ran out of the barn. She left the doors in splinters. She did not slacken her pace, nor did she seem to know that she had met an obstruction as she was passing through the massive oaken structure. Once more she galloped blindly up and down the alley. An old elephant man said that bread would quiet the animal, so some one hurried to a bakery and soon returned with ten newly baked loaves. These were thrown over a fence into the alley, and Gypsy ate them greedily. Ten more were brought up and fed to her, and more after that, until she had consumed fifty loaves. As she ate, her rage seemed to pass away. When the fiftieth loaf had disappeared she wandered into the barn once more. Claude Orton, a trainer, tried to fasten a chain around Gypsy's leg, but she pushed him away; yet she showed no signs of rage against him. A big piece of canvas was hung over the broken door. Gypsy walked over and felt it carefully with her trunk, but she made no attempt to break through. At the end of an hour she allowed Orton to chain her leg, and she quietly remained after that in her accustomed place.
[DANDELION DOWN.]
Happy spirit of the air,
Floating all the sunny day
Here and there and everywhere
Down the shadowy woodland way,
I would like to be like you,
Tossing, drifting down the May,
'Neath the skies of cloudless blue
With the breezes e'er at play.
R. K. Munkittrick.
BY GASTON V. DRAKE.
XVIII.—FROM BOB TO JACK.
Geneva.
DEAR JACK,—I did dream about that Guillotine as I was afraid I would and it wasn't any fun. I'm sorry I went to bed that night. I thought I went to the barber's to get my hair cut and all he had to cut it with was the guillotine. He said his scissors were off being ground but if I wouldn't wiggle the guillotine was just as safe, and it was, though I didn't enjoy it very much until I waked up and found it was all a dream, and then like a donkey I went and told Ma all about it and she said I'd have to stop eating Table d'hôte. Do you know what table-d'hôte is? It's French for a kind of a dinner where you eat everything there is on the bill of fare, and it's great because they ring in three or four different kinds of desert in such a way that nobody thinks of telling you it isn't good for you. First you have soup and then you have fish and next comes a patty which is generally a sort of chicken-hash short cake, and it goes right to the spot. Then you have roast lamb with mint sauce and green pease about as big as bird shot cooked with sugar and soft as peaches. Then comes another desert called sherbet, which is only lemon water ice and you think your dinner is over when pop! in walks the waiter with some kind of a bird, with some salad. Then you have cheese and then a pudding and on top of the pudding ice-cream and cake. They call the cakes petty fours but I could eat 'em by the petty sixes and I do. If you ever come abroad don't forget to eat all of these dinners you can. They're cheap and good only don't try to get one by asking for a Tay-bill-de-hote as you'd think it was called. No Frenchman would know what you meant, but if you call for a Tar-bull-doat they'll bring it in a minute. Ma said it was too many of these that was making me have dreams like the guillotine one but Pop said he didn't think it was; the boy is naturally excited by what he sees and hears about. We'll have to tell Jules to stop telling him stories. I'd rather go without the table d'hôte said I. And there it dropped and you can bet I'm not going to bring the subject up again no matter if I dream my head's being chopped off.
We left Paris yesterday. We didn't any of us want to come away but our time was up and so we left leaving about ninety-nine per cent. of the city unvisited. We didn't see the cemetery or go to the opera or any of those places—at least I didn't. Pop went to see the cemetery and he said it was not very cheerful and reminded him of a city of bathing houses, which I think must have been a mighty queer looking cemetery. Jules took me and the babies to the circus, but it isn't like our circus. There wasn't any pink lemonade or monkies or things like that, but all sorts of goings on in the ring and only one ring which I don't think is much and all the clowns cracked their jokes in French so I was just as glad when it was over.
It was a long ride from Paris to Geneva. Fourteen hours and near the end a Frenchman insisted on getting into our compartment which Pop had paid a man to let us have all to ourselves—and wasn't Pop mad! He tried to tell the Frenchman he had no business there, but his French got mixed up with several other languages and Pop never was strong on pantomime so the man didn't catch the idea until we got to Geneva and then he got out, but it was too late. All this time Jules was in the next car but we couldn't get at him to tell him, and that made Pop more nervous than ever. However we all got here alive and Pop has calmed down. He couldn't help calming down here. It's a beautiful city and clean as a whistle—I don't mean a railroad whistle, but the clean kind. It's right on the lake and such green water you never saw and way off in the distance Mount Blanc plays peek-a-booh with you through the clouds. Mount Blanc is the finest Alp I ever saw and it looks good enough to eat—like a great big plate of ice-cream. I wanted Jules to get up early the next morning and go out and climb it with me and have a snow-ball fight, but he says it takes nine hours to get to it riding all the way in a wagon, and two days more to climb it. It hardly seems possible, but I guess he knows because he's done it—leastways he says he has though Pop doubts it. Pop says Jules is a French Sandboys who has done a heap of things which no man ever did, but I don't care he's a good fellow to go with and I like him. He told me that when he climbed up Mount Blanc it was so cold it contracted his head so that he couldn't keep his hat from sliding down over his eyes, and as he had lost his golf cap and wore a beaver this was trying because it prevented him from seeing many of the things that other people who have climbed the mountain have seen and made books of. Jules wants to write a book and I wish he would because I'd like to read it. He's had so many things happen in his life. Why the time he went up this Mount Blanc he encountered a polar bear that wanted to eat him and Jules was willing he should because he said he was so cold he was willing to go anywhere where it was warm and he says the inside of a bear is a great deal warmer than the outside of a bear, but in his frozen state he didn't know what he was doing and so fought like a tiger and killed the bear, which warmed him up a good deal and really in the end saved his life, for if it hadn't been for the bear's skin he'd have frozen while he was up on top of the mountain which rises to a height of 16,000 feet above the level of the sea.
Pop and I went into a place this morning where there was a race going on between two music-boxes and one of 'em did a tune in at least a minute less time than the other one did the same tune. I enjoyed it very much but Pop called it a din and said let's go, so we went. Aunt Sarah may be musical but I've heard her play the piano and she can't get through that Cavalere Rusticannio half so quick as one of these music-boxes.
Pop bought me a gold watch here yesterday, but I don't see what good it's going to do me because he says he thinks he'll carry it a year himself until it gets regulated.
When we get to Genoa where Columbus used to go I'll write again.
Yours always, Bob.
The New England Interscholastics will be held next Friday instead of Saturday, because of the Harvard-Pennsylvania ball game which is to be played on Holmes Field on the latter date. The events will number fourteen, being the regular inter-collegiate programme, except that the bicycle event will be limited to a one-mile race.
ANDOVER'S SPRINTERS.
The English High-School athletes are determined to win this meet. They have won every championship so far this year, and will make a strong bid to complete the season victors in every department. Their chances at the present writing seem much brighter than those of any other school. Worcester Academy, however, will have plenty of fire in its eye. Its backers claim to be sure of three firsts, which is a big bonus to begin with. Worcester is smarting under the poor showing made in the winter meet, and is sure to retrieve itself this spring. Andover, too, will send down a hot set of runners.
For the sprints the Worcester men count on Robinson, who can run in .10-1/5. But Kane of E.H.-S., who had his first experience in racing in the winter meet, is backed by his schoolmates to win the event. Owens of Newton, Mason of W.H.-S., Duffy of E.H.-S., Jones of Andover, Kennington of Dedham High, Seaver of Cambridge High, and Hersey of W.A., make a list that, with Kane and Robinson, probably includes the six starters in the final heat. This list will have to be enlarged to fit the 220. Boyce of Brookline High, who won the 150 at the Harvard open games early in May, runs with a beautiful stride and finishes strong, and is making a specialty of this game. Carleton of Hopkinson's is training for this event. His legitimate distance is the quarter; but a recent serious illness will prevent his getting into condition for that exhausting race, and he will probably confine himself to the 220 in hope of beating his old rival, Robinson. With Carleton in good form, this 220 ought to furnish an exciting race.
There are a dozen lads around Boston who can run the quarter in better than .55. In the interscholastic relay race at the Harvard games English High's winning team of Kane, Purtell, Hanson, and Emery averaged .54½. Emery has been selected to win this event for them Friday. To do it he will have to beat men like Badger of W.H.-S., Shirk of W.A., Clapp and Huntress of Hopkinson's, Garrett of Cambridge High, and Thompson of C.M.T.S. Thompson and Badger are the best of the lot, and with Emery ought to get the three places. The race will probably be run in one heat, as heretofore, although the field in the event, which is the prime favorite in New England, will be unusually large. Burke's record is not in danger, but the race is sure to be a pretty one.
Albertson of Worcester High will be out to win the half this year, and with Dadnum and Boyle of the same school will make a trio of exceedingly high-class performers. Hartwell of W.A., Burdon of Newton, Gaskell of Andover, if he is in condition, and Applegate of Cambridge High, ought to be well bunched at the finish. Purtell will not run this distance this year, but has assigned the task of beating Albertson to Hanson, who won the 600 so pluckily at the winter meet. If Porter of Chauncy Hall enters the half-mile, Hanson may find it hard to get better than third.
Mills of Berkeley School is almost sure of the mile, with Sullivan, W. H., second, now that Dow of E.H.-S. has stopped training. Dow's withdrawal will be a severe loss to E.H.-S., and will lower their chances materially. Lincoln of Boston Latin, Richardson and Palmer of Andover, and Porter of Chauncy Hall will keep the race from dragging. Laing's old record of 4.34 will probably stand; but the winner should make at least 4.37.
Purtell in the high and Ashley and Converse in the low hurdles are a good team from E.H.-S. Purtell takes the flights in excellent form, and is particularly strong in the short dash to the tape. His special rival will be Cady, from Andover, who bears a name of international reputation in hurdling. English High is backing Ashley and Converse to win two places in the low hurdles, shrewdly reckoning that Seaver of Brookline is devoting too much time to baseball and tennis. But Mason of W.H.-S. is still in the game, and so is Hallowell of Hopkinson's; and Boyce of Brookline has developed into a dangerous man this spring.
English High has three good walkers, Rudickhauser, Mohan, and O'Toole. The best of them is O'Toole, who walks in perfect form, and is an experienced athlete. He ought to get first out of the race. His nearest rival, now that Delaney of W.H.-S. is barred, is Mallette of B.L.S. Mallette has improved wonderfully since he has been out-of-doors. He is a big strong fellow, very different from the wiry O'Toole, and could give him a hard race, except that he is very liable to break when hard pressed. He won the mile walk at the Harvard games, having the limit handicap, but got two warnings. Crouse of Andover and Lockwood are both working hard, and if they can manage to stay on the track, ought to make it a hard race.
It would be hard to make a prediction in regard to the bicycle-race, since so much depends on accidents. Stone of Andover is riding better than any one else just at present, and, barring smash-ups and pockets, ought to draw first. The pole vault will probably go as it did in the in-door meet—Johnson of W.A. first, Sharey of Cushing Academy second, and a big lob of other lads tied for third. Johnson already holds the out-door record of 10 feet 7 inches, and is going after it again this spring. Duffy of E.H.-S. has been doing some good work lately, and is likely to get a place.
The high jump will probably go to Arthur Rice, of Noble's; Perry of Andover, Howe of W.A., Rotch of Hopkinson's, and Converse of E.H.-S. are any of them likely to get a place. The shot is a sure thing for O'Brien, E.H.-S.; next to him is Edmands of W.A.; Heath of Hopkinson's or Coe of Noble's ought to get third place.
Andover and Worcester held their second dual games a week ago Saturday, at Andover, and Worcester for the second time defeated her old rival. It is true that the Andover team was slightly crippled by the loss of Senn and Peck, who were "ineligible" for faculty reasons, and of Gaskell, who was laid up. Nevertheless, it is doubtful if the presence of these men would have been of great assistance, for Andover was strong as it was in their events.