"What do you think of the French master?"
"Not much," said the chorus.
"Well, he is powerfully built," intimated one with a knowing look, who was, perhaps, bringing some personal recollection to bear on the subject.
"Yes," said another; "but he is too fat; he has no wind. He would be nowhere."
"What would you take him at?" asked the one with a knowing look.
"Sixty to one," was the reply.
Some discussion took place, and I "closed" at fifty to one.
Thus was my case settled.
As to the matter of athletics, to which English boys are such devotees, I cannot help thinking that they are overdone, made a hobby of, and, like most hobbies in England, ridden to excess. No doubt it is a fine thing for a boy to have plenty of outdoor amusements; it is good for him to be an adept at running, leaping, climbing, swimming; but what in the world does he learn at football, the great winter game of the English schoolboy? Why do the English so neglect pastimes that would develop dexterity of hand and limb, and devote themselves to a game which seems to me to teach nothing except respect of brute force?