LOVE AT FISHING.
PUT one arm here, and with the other fling
The silken string,
Steel hook, and gadfly bait into the cool,
Transparent pool,
And drive love’s prattle tiptoe ’cross the lip,
Or let it turn to language-gaze, and sip
Its honey from a stillness. Watch the dip
And glimmer of the cork, and how they slip—
The scarlet fish—below the water, like
The thoughts that strike
Athwart the mind. How else could lovers wish
Than thus to fish?
Though I have cut no strand of yellow hair
To spin my silken cord from what you wear,
In long warm tresses over face, to stare
Through quaintly; nor a golden hook to snare
The water’s fruit! or more than this cool nook,
With that one look
Between the willow branches at the sky
From where we lie,
Edged round with ribbon grasses tangled in
The lover’s knots, as if they meant to win
Love hither by a meaning that is kin;
For nature holds love’s thought and origin!
That bird dropped down upon the pool’s near hem
Like a red gem,
Shook off the hand; and left a vision glint,
That faint song-print—
Just gone.... Mark how the fishes flit and chase,
Lit to a passion, ’cross the water’s face—
So like the minutes moving in the space
Of this one day. What are the words they trace
Therein?... That bird flew to its nest just now
Upon the bough.
The stooping sun trails long red fingers through
The grass. The dew
Slips off the willow leaves. It cannot be
The day is over, and the fish still free—
Except the fish of happiness that we
Have caught; with love’s gold ring for you and me!
Edward A. Valentine.
FRANKLIN SATTERTHWAITE, a genial sportsman, a good fellow, and a journalist whose pen ofttimes described the sports and pastimes he loved so well, died September 16, at his home in Newark. Mr. Satterthwaite was among the best known writers on field sports in this country. He was the son of John B. Satterthwaite, who married Miss Duane, a daughter of the celebrated W. J. Duane, Secretary of the Treasury during Andrew Jackson’s presidency. Franklin Satterthwaite was brought up in Philadelphia. The name of Franklin descended to him from his great grandfather, Benjamin Franklin. He had a wide circle of friends. His place will be missed among the men who love outdoor sports, for Franklin Satterthwaite was not only an enthusiast in their pursuit, but his ready pen never flowed so freely as when recounting some exciting or interesting adventure of flood or field. May his name continue as green in the memory of those who knew and loved him as the sod which covers his grave!
THE DISSENSIONS IN THE ATHLETIC WORLD.
IT is a matter for regret, that just at this season the National Amateur Athletic Association and the Amateur Athletic Union should be at daggers’ points with each other. It is to be deplored particularly now, when a visiting organization is here, three thousand miles from home, to engage in contests for championship honors. That the main object the two great organizations of amateur athletes have in view is praiseworthy is not for a moment put to question. It is to be presumed that both are influenced by a similar idea—the purification, or the attempted purification, of the athletic arena from the taint of semi-professionalism.
Young men who interest themselves in outdoor amusements belong to one of two classes—the amateur or the professional. Strange as it may seem, it is not so easy to draw the line between the two. The gentlemen, however, who are in a position to pilot the course of the great athletic bodies, and frame the rules for their government, certainly ought to be able to discriminate. A man who interests himself in athletic sports is either an amateur or a professional. He either goes in for pastime or sport; for the love of it, or for the gain it affords him; the badge or medal for the one—the purse for the other. The lines between these two are so strongly marked that a blind man can feel them. There is, however, a class of men who have crept into the amateur ranks which requires careful watching. We refer to those who are neither amateurs or professionals, but for want of a better designation may be classed as “professional amateurs.” These men will not enter the professional arena for purses, but they do not hesitate to become members of amateur clubs under questionable conditions. Men who devote nearly all their time to training on the cinder track, on the river, on the bicycle path, or in the baseball field, and who do not pay club dues, or who have their club dues paid for them, are tainted with the worse taint of professionalism. To pit one of these men against the amateur enthusiast, who goes in for outdoor sports for the pure love of them, is manifestly unfair. He has no chance to distinguish himself, if he feels so inclined, against such odds. It also discourages other younger amateurs from making a trial in the public contests. To protect the honest amateur athlete, the genuine lover of sport, against the tricksters who, under the guise of amateurs, do nothing else but hang about club-houses, and who are encouraged because they are “smart”—“smart” in more senses than one—is an accomplishment worthy of any great body. If this is the knotty problem which lies directly at the base of the difficulty between the two great central bodies of American amateur athletes, it ought not to be a difficult one to solve; but on the other hand, if it is a desire on the part of one to carry out a policy of rule or ruin, the sooner an understanding is arrived at the better. We have invited both the National Association and the Amateur Athletic Union to state their cases fairly in the pages of OUTING, and we await their action without further comment.
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THE FOOTBALL SEASON.
THE season of football just inaugurated gives every evidence of being an active one. The interest in the game has increased to such an extent in the last few seasons that the sport has rapidly advanced to a leading position among the outdoor amusements of this country. The recent victories of the Canadian team in England and Scotland, too, have given an additional impetus to the game with the sturdy young men across the border. If the promise of the preliminary preparations produce good fruit the present season of football here and in Canada will be a most exciting one.
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THE CLOSE OF THE YACHTING SEASON.
THE season of the year is now with us when the yachts comprising the American pleasure fleets go out of commission. With topmasts housed, sails unbent, and running gear coiled away below, they will lie up in winter berths until May, 1889.
Now, therefore, is the time to ask: “What has the season of 1888 done for yachting in America?” and OUTING answers, “Much.” True, we have had no international race, but what of that? When our friends in England are ready to challenge, we are ready to build, and meanwhile the interval has been profitably spent on both sides of the Atlantic. The Englishmen have been building boats to beat their previous productions. And so have Americans, with very satisfactory results. Our keel boats have done well, but the centreboards have done better. It has been a lively season, with more events and better racing and cruising than any previous. New boats have broken old records, and two important features have been developed, i. e., schooner racing, and “class racing.” At no time in the past ten years has there been such interest in the former class of sport, while the results of the latter were shown in the recent races off Larchmont. There half a dozen boats of almost equal dimensions—Pappoose, Baboon, Nymph, etc.—contested, and the results proved that it is not only more interesting to the spectator, but also very satisfactory to the yachtsmen whose boat has too often been hampered by being compelled to sail in annual races in a class with others nearly double her length. Class racing should be encouraged in New York waters, as it is in Boston and on the Lakes.
There has been much said this season about a summer club-house down the bay for the New York Yacht Club, but nothing definite has been done toward securing one as yet. It appears very necessary that the premier club of America should have an anchorage and house somewhere near the point from which their races are started. The club that has shown the most enterprise this year is the Larchmont. They have not only provided themselves with what may be justly termed the most perfectly appointed club-house in the country, but by inaugurating the class-racing spoken of, and encouraging the sailing of small boats by Corinthian crews, they have made themselves deservedly popular among all classes of yachtsmen. Boston, Marblehead, Hull, Beverley and Dorchester as usual wind up the season with the longest roll of events to their credit. It seems curious that our New York yachtsmen do not join and organize a Yacht Racing Association, by which the time allowances, and other racing details, might be governed. The Eastern Association, that meets in Boston, have all the principal clubs on their roll, and they have done much good work since they started.
J. C. SUMMERS.
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THE EXPENSES OF THE KENNEL.
FEW but those who are intimately acquainted with the minutest details of keeping and training thoroughbred dogs can estimate the vast amount of time, labor and money expended nowadays on the canine race. This time, labor and money all go for the improvement and elevation of the dog, for scientific breeding, and preparation for shows and field trials.
With the daily increase of bench shows, we witness quickly growing extravagance in the prices paid for high-class dogs, and see money spent with a freer hand for dog furnishings and kennel accommodations. Dog furnishings alone, including such articles as collars of all grades, blankets, muzzles, leads, chains, snaps, swivels, couplings, etc., etc., and kennel fixtures, from dog-houses and porcelain-lined food-pans down to brushes, combs, dog-soap, and multitudinous patent medicines for every ailment, employ hundreds and hundreds of people of both sexes throughout the year, and these industries are undoubtedly on the increase.
As to prices paid for dog-flesh, we can cite a few, some of which have come under our personal notice. For instance, it is well known that the owner of the pointer dog Beaufort could have found a purchaser for him at any moment at a figure somewhat better than a thousand dollars; in fact, it is understood that that figure was about the price paid for him when little more than a pup. Another instance is the sale of the liver and white pointer Robert le Diable, at the New York show a year ago, for one thousand dollars. Again, we have the huge St. Bernard Rector, sold by Mr. E. R. Hearn to Fritz Emmet, bringing four thousand. Then, in the case of the English pointer Graphic, twenty-seven hundred was the cost of his transfer from one gentleman’s kennels to another’s, and the instance of the collie Bendigo, at the Westminster Kennel Club’s show last spring, bringing a thousand and a half in cash, showed how much his present owner wanted him. Now comes the latest thing in this line. That great and noble St. Bernard, loved throughout England, and for whom at his departure from his native place children wept and people of maturer years grew sad, has come to us—we refer to that grand dog Plinlimmon. Much ink was wasted and many offers made before his recent owner could be induced to part with him; at last the climax was reached, however, when a most luring and seductive bait of one thousand pounds was offered, which sealed the good dog’s fate. He is in this country now, having lately arrived on the Britannic. Mastiffs, too, have been bringing long prices, with spaniels (the black variety) and setters, some of these kennels being worth a small fortune in themselves. So, with new additions every month to the list of shows, dog interests increase and values enhance, until well-bred specimens may be seen at every hand where formerly mongrels predominated.
NOMAD.
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FENCING.
WITH the return of cold weather, fencing comes once again to the fore. Indeed, fencing is growing more popular every year. We remember the time—and that not many years ago—when there was but a single professor of the art in New York, and a pretty poor one at that. Now, fencing academies are cropping up in all parts of the city. Fencing clubs are numerous and well attended. The two leading ones are the Knickerbocker and the Fencers’ Club. The two great athletic clubs of New York encourage fencing by devoting large and convenient rooms for salles d’armes, and giving valuable prizes to the winners of contests. The Manhattan has secured the services of Professor Louis Rondelle, the able and courteous master of the Knickerbocker. They promise magnificent fencing rooms in their new building, which will be the finest in America.
OUTING would like the secretaries of all the fencing clubs to report about the doings of their fellow-members. We will also furnish all desired information about fencing and fencers. An article on “Fencing for Ladies,” by Mr. Eugene Van Schaick, the author of “A Bout with the Foils,” and “A Bout with the Broadsword,” will be published in one of the early numbers of OUTING for 1889.
REVIVAL OF A FINE OLD ENGLISH GAME.
THE average young Canadian is more devoted to outdoor sports in all kinds of weather than his American neighbor. Even those among the Canucks whose hair is silver-sabled, as well as they whose locks are sable-silvered—to quote a phrase from that delightful old boy, the Autocrat, of Boston, as true a sportsman as ever breathed or wrote—are more devoted to almost all kinds of vigorous exercise, driving, perhaps, excepted, than those who live in the dominions of Uncle Sam. Not only do cricket, baseball, tennis and curling find thousands of enthusiastic players in Canada, but shinty, golf, and bowls have their adherents. The game last mentioned has of late taken an extraordinary hold in Ontario. Its great recommendation is that it is found to give just the degree of exercise in the open air to make it especially agreeable to those of middle age or to those
“Whose age is as a lusty youth,
Frosty, but kindly.”
Lawn bowls resembles curling somewhat. In fact it consists in trying to do on level grass what it is the object of curlers to accomplish on smooth ice, i. e., to get one side’s bowls near a central object and to cut out those of the other side. Another point of resemblance is that the “in-turn” or “out-turn” of the curling-stone is initiated by the “fore-hand” or “back-hand” bias of the lignum-vitæ bowl. There is, however, no sweeping at bowls, so that the assistance, real or imaginary, toward the progress of a stone that a roaring and perspiring curler derives from his efforts with the broom, is denied to the bowler.
In former days the game was played, in Canada, at least, with balls much biased, so as to draw as much as six to ten feet in a run of sixty. The best players in Scotland, however, have discarded these extremely weighted bowls. The Pioneer rink of Toronto was the first to import bowls of the best Glasgow make, notwithstanding that a very fair article is made in Canada. Since Scotland has been mentioned, it may be as well to say just here that a correspondent, Mr. Samuel Gunn, of Glasgow, a fine bowler, and an undeniable Scotchman, inveighs, in a recent letter, against those who term bowls an English game, and declares that Scotland is its great exemplar to-day. This probably may be the case; but even Mr. Gunn will admit that the cyclopedias call it “a British game,” and they are not particular to say anything about North Britain either. He should also remember that in the fine picture illustrative of the game in the time of Elizabeth, it is Sir Francis Drake and a group of Englishmen whose game upon an English green was sought to be interrupted by a messenger bringing tidings that the Spanish Armada was in sight.
Be it Scotch or English, it is a good game.
IS HE A 9 4-5 MAN?
THE St. Louis Globe-Democrat writes in the following way of the performance of Schifferstein, the Californian sprinter:
“At the meeting of the Missouri Athletic Club, at St. Louis, September 9, the feature of the day was the performance of Schifferstein, the Californian, in the 100-yard race. He won away off in the world’s record time of 9 4-5s. The amateur record is 10s., and the Californian lowered this. The professional record of 9 4-5s. is held by H. M. Johnson, who was one of the timers. The performance will go on record, and Schifferstein will receive a handsome medal for lowering the record. There can be no doubt of the performance, as he beat Joe Murphy, who is a 101⁄4. man, three yards. In the second heat Schifferstein, O. J. Fath and Geo. M. Fuchs, of the M. A. A. C., and Eli Thornish, of Chicago, competed. Schifferstein raced away from his field in the first fifty yards, and won easily by four yards of Thornish, second. Time, 13 1-5s. The Californian has the easiest of styles. He much resembles Sherrill, the champion, in his style of movement, and does not seem to exert himself a bit when in motion. He will win the national championship. In the final heat a good start was effected, but Schifferstein opened up a big gap on his field in the first fifty yards as before. Murphy then held him even, but could not gain an inch, and the Californian won by three yards in the record time of 9 4-5s.”
A PLEA FOR THE WHEELMEN.
AS the days shorten, and the hours available for outdoor exercise grow fewer, more wheelmen are anxious to use the daylight they have at their own disposal for a reinvigorating run. No city is better provided with an exercise ground for cyclers than is New York with her beautiful park; but, nevertheless, there is a hitch. As things stand at present, one has, in order to reach the park, to take a car from the business parts of the city, and undergo all the tedium of the trip; then, hastily donning cycling clothes, take a hasty spin, a hurried bath, and resuming the garments of every-day life, run the risk of cold or pneumonia by taking a car down-town while still warm from the vigorous exercise.
The Board of Aldermen were apparently filled with good intentions, and went so far as to lay down in Madison Avenue, from Twenty-third to Thirty-second Street, a pavement which seems calculated to fill every wheelman’s heart with joy. This pavement is not the ordinary asphalt used for streets, but has an admixture of sand, which prevents extreme slipperiness. So far so good; but there remains the long stretch from Thirty-second to Fifty-ninth Street, over which no wheelman dare attempt to ride, and so many a man who pines for the refreshing run of an hour or so on his wheel is deterred by the thoughts of those trips on the cars and the other attendant discomforts. Surely the Board of Aldermen will take pity on such a good (and influential) class of citizens, and shortly remedy this real and considerable grievance.
A MASSACRE OF THE INNOCENTS.
AT the present time, when the inevitable effect of the actions of so-called “trout-hogs,” dynamitards, and pot-hunters is evoking so much attention, the report that on August 30 Lord Walsingham killed in one day to his own gun, 1,058 head of grouse, on his small moor at Blubberhouse, Yorkshire, has attracted no slight attention. The feat, if such it can be called, was undertaken with a view to eclipsing the former record made by Lord Walsingham in 1872 of 842 head, on which performance no great reliance has ever been placed. The new and gigantic record is, however, undoubtedly authentic. The bag was made between 5.15 A. M. and 7.30 P. M. and twenty “drives” were made, which occupied seven hours and a half. During the last half hour (i. e., from 7 to 7.30) fourteen birds were killed, during the walk home, and by deducting these it is found that 1,044 were killed in 449 minutes, or nearly 21⁄3 birds per minute. Once three birds were killed at one shot, and three times two birds at one shot. Lord Walsingham was the only person to fire, and used four guns, and employed two loaders. In this particular case, so far was the ground from being completely “shot out” that the reports say that two guns could readily get from 150 to 200 brace per day for two or three days during the next week over the same ground.
A BELLED BUCK.
THE New York Sun recently published a letter from Alex. Moss, of Madoc, Miss. Mr. Moss writes: “A day or two ago I killed a deer, a buck, the largest ever seen in this country; gross weight, 347 pounds. The horns three inches from the head were 13⁄4 in. in diameter. There were six points on one horn and seven on the other—thirteen points. Around the neck of the deer was a bell attached to a wire rope. On the inside of the bell was plainly engraved: ‘J. S. Dunn, Lansing, Mich. June (or Jan.), 1881.’ The wire rope had been spliced in sailor fashion, and was no doubt done before it was put on the deer, and allowances made for the neck growing. There was but a small portion of the material of which the rope was made left, save the wire. It was very tight around the deer’s neck, and the hair was white where the rope touched. The bell had no clapper, and was made of brass and copper.”
A DRINK FOR CYCLISTS.
A WRITER in the Bicycling World calls attention to a well-known injurious habit of wheelmen, as follows:
“The pernicious habit of imbibing large quantities of water at every stopping-place, so common among inexperienced wheelmen, not only aggravates the thirst, but, by promoting excessive perspiration, exhausts the rider. It is the perspiration that evaporates as fast as it appears, and not that which runs off the skin, that diminished the heat of the body. If the rider resists this desire to drink, the water for perspiration is taken from the fat—which is the dead weight—and he is benefited by the decrease in his avoirdupois.”
While the fault and result are very much as outlined above, the writer has failed to point out any remedy. A certain amount of liquid to assuage thirst must be taken by riders, and at the same time nourishment and mild stimulation are often essential. A harmless and satisfactory combination of all these may be secured by adding to a glass of milk a tablespoonful of Jamaica rum, and nothing but beneficial results will be secured, even if used in excess of moderation.
HINTS TO NEW YORK SPORTSMEN.
THE query has more than once been put to OUTING: “Where can one obtain good shooting within Too miles of New York?” In reply, we wish to give the following advice to men who, while keen on sport, have not the time to seek it far afield.
In the first place, good shooting, with a variety of game (one correspondent mentions rabbit, quail, grouse, partridge, etc.), cannot be obtained within too miles of the city.
The rabbit, or American hare (Lepus sylvaticus) can be found everywhere outside and sometimes inside city limits. He seems to be a “pariah and an outcast” among sportsmen, although rabbit shooting with a couple of good dogs on a brisk, frosty morning, is a sport by no means to be despised. Rabbits are protected by the game laws during the close season. Quail (Ortex Virginianus, or, according to many ornithologists, Perdix V.), are in many places still further protected by farmers upon whose lands they breed, most of the stubble fields being posted to keep off intruders. The right of shooting in such cases is reserved for themselves, or for city friends visiting them in the fall, although we have known of cases where the farms were posted so that the farmer’s boys might eke out a few pitiful pennies by snaring the birds for market. Good rabbit and fair quail shooting may be had early in the season on the line of the Southern Railroad of New Jersey, particularly in the neighborhood of Tom’s River. Also on Long Island, from South Oyster Bay eastward.
Ruffed grouse (Tetrao umbellus), improperly called “partridge” in the Eastern and some of the Middle States, and as improperly termed “pheasant” in the South, may still be found in fair numbers among the wooded slopes and swales of Sullivan County, N. Y., and Pike County, Penn. But the class of sportsmen whom we are specially addressing should try that migratory bird, the woodcock, finest of all our birds of the fall flight, the English snipe, most luscious of all for the table, and the shore birds, or Limicolæ, a large class comprehending the curlews, marlins, plovers, tattlers and sandpipers. It is unnecessary to say that, except with shore birds, good dogs are essential to success.
A WORD TO LAWN TENNIS PLAYERS.
LAWN TENNIS has, within late years, taken so prominent a place in the list of our outdoor amateur sports that it behooves those who feel an interest in its future progress to guard well against the introduction of the semi-professional element. This influence has done much to injure and retard the growth of many outdoor amusements. It threw back amateur rowing for years, and at one time brought the open regattas into such ill-favor that it was feared that rowing would fall back into the position it was in before the establishment of the National Association of Amateur Oarsmen. Even after the establishment of that organization, it required the closest attention on the part of the executive committee of the association, with so active a man as Henry W. Garfield to keep it clear from the snags that beset it. It would be well for the lovers of lawn tennis to take this matter seriously in hand and take a lesson from the course laid down by the amateur oarsmen to keep the pastime clear from professional amateur players of this delightful outdoor amusement.
CYCLES IN THE RUSSIAN ARMY.
MR. J. H. BLOCK, of Moscow, who has been instrumental in obtaining the introduction of cycles into the Russian army, thus explains how he was able to bring the measure about:
“I was very kindly received,” says Mr. Block, “by the Commander-in-Chief here, and he took the greatest interest in all I had to say about cycling. An official test has been made here between a cyclist and a grenadier on horseback. A despatch of great importance had to be taken to a small town thirty-five miles outside of Moscow, and an answer to be received from there. One of our best and most ardent bicyclists, Colonel Firsoff, who is fifty years of age, undertook to start off with the grenadier at the same time, and try to receive the answer, and come back in less time than the horseman would. This he achieved in the best possible manner. He came back four hours sooner than did the grenadier, and it created quite a sensation. Since that time we have had very long and continuous conversations about this matter, and after two months, the official introduction has taken place.”
THE HEROINE OF A YACHTING ACCIDENT.
A NARROW Escape from drowning, and, at the same time, an admirable instance of the value of coolness and presence of mind in the face of danger is thus recorded by the Hamilton, Canada, Spectator. It gives an account of the rescue of Mr. Bunbury, of Hamilton, and his daughter. After showing how a passing vessel noticed the capsized sloop, the Spectator goes on to say:
“Captain Irving was notified and got his glass set upon the object. He informed the passengers who had called his attention to it that it was a yacht on her side with two persons clinging to it. The steamer was headed for the yacht, and in a short time was alongside it. Then it was found that Miss Bunbury’s yacht had upset. The two passengers were picked up, and the young lady was rigged out in dry clothes and made comfortable. She did not appear to be the least bit concerned about the upset. ‘We were just three-quarters of an hour in the water,’ she said, looking at her watch, as she was lifted on deck.
“Mr. Bunbury had seen the squall coming, and was going to take in some of the canvas when the squall struck the boat. ‘Let go everything,’ he cried to his daughter, ‘and jump into the mainsail.’ The young lady obeyed with a promptness that perhaps saved her life. In a moment the boat was on her side, with the sail flat on the water, and the young lady on the sail. She picked herself up and stood on the centreboard, hanging on to the deck with both hands. The yacht was low in the water, and to raise it Mr. Bunbury dived into it and threw out the ballast. The young lady stood in the water up to her waist, while Mr. Bunbury was up to his neck, and when the boat lurched—a small sea having come up in the meantime—his head would go right under water.
“The young lady was made quite a heroine of by the passengers of the Macassa. She certainly deserves great credit for her pluck and presence of mind. Thomas Costen, one of the Macassa’s deck hands jumped into the water and assisted in getting the young lady and Mr. Bunbury on board. The yacht was afterward towed in by a steam launch.”
FISH LIVING IN HOT WATER.
THERE is a pond on the hay ranch at Golconda, which is fed by the waters from the hot springs. This pond has an area of two or three acres, and the temperature of the water is about 85°, and in some places, where the hot water bubbles up from the bottom, the temperature is almost up to a boiling point. Recently the discovery has been made that this warm lake is literally alive with carp, some of which are more than a foot long. All efforts to catch them with a hook and line have failed, as they will not touch the most tempting bait. A few of them have been shot, and, contrary to the general supposition, the flesh was hard and palatable. How the fish got into the lake is a mystery unsolved. Within too feet of it are springs which are boiling hot, and the ranchers in the vicinity use the water to scald hogs in the butchering season.
CARP FISHING.
THE New York Herald recently gave some advice to a correspondent who inquired as to the best method of getting some carp-fishing, which is so practical that it will bear repetition. It says: “At Little Falls, N. Y., you can obtain boats, although carp may be caught also from the shore. Carp may be taken in large numbers anywhere within ten miles above Little Falls. There is no law protecting carp, and they may be taken whenever and wherever anybody can find them. Use No. 3 or 4 hook, and fish on the bottom. Let the fish get a good hold before striking, as carp take the hook like suckers. They are often caught on worms used in fishing for other fish. If nothing but carp are wanted, a better bait is made of dough, mixed with cotton to keep it on the hook, or boiled peas.”
BOAT-RACING IN THE DARK.
A NUMBER of times during the past rowing season we noticed that unsatisfactory results were reached at the conclusion of a regatta, which anything like thoughtful management might have avoided. In two or three instances which might be called to mind, contestants were summoned to the starting-line at so late an hour that the shades of evening had fallen on the water. To start a boat race under such conditions is not only absurd and ridiculous, but fraught with danger to the men engaged in it, not to say anything of the numberless disputes likely to arise regarding the final result. In the first place, the referee cannot discharge the duties of his office properly if he is unable to see what is going on between the contestants, or how can a judge at the finish determine who crosses the line first when it is absolutely impossible to see distinctly three boats’ lengths ahead of him? In the Bowery Bay, a place that may become popular for racing with rowing men, and in the waters about the Staten Island Athletic Club’s boat-house, occurrences similar to those above referred to had practical illustrations within the past few weeks. In other sections of the country the practice of delay in starting boat races at an hour later than announced has become a positive nuisance. We propose to watch all sins of this kind in the future, and place the blame of such mismanagement where it belongs.