(By Mr. Punch's own Rowing Man.)
Henley, Monday.
I have arrived, and Henley once more is Henley. Even the weather has recognised me, and good old Plu himself came out to shake me by the hand and talk of old times. The course is of the usual length, but a slight alteration has been made in the breadth. Many house-boats are moored along the Oxfordshire bank. The bridge has not changed its position since I saw it last. The courteous Secretary of the Regatta assured me, that my complaint with reference to the impediment which this structure offers to rowing-boats had been laid before the Stewards. No action, however, is to be taken this year.
This being the day before the Regatta, very heavy work was done by all the crews engaged in the race for the Grand Challenge Cup. They all have a good chance, and, personally, I should not feel the least surprise if I saw at least two eights rowing in the final heat on Thursday. Thames, London, Brasenose, Kingston, New College, and Trinity Hall all possess some "sterling oarsmen," and carry "banners" of different colours. I may remark, in passing, that no crew is allowed to row with more than eight oars.
The race for the Stewards will be exciting. All these officials are in hard training, but the Mayor of Henley is favourite at short odds.*
*Note by the Editor.—Are you sure this is right?
Reply.—Right? Of course it is. I'm here, and I ought to know.
I notice that the Ladies have a race all to themselves. Doubtless this is due to Miss FAWCETT's pernicious example, but the innovation is not to be commended. The entries for the Visitors are of average quality. Three visitors only are to compete over a course of picnic luncheons and strawberries and cream. I have only room left to remark that the weather has been changeable, and that all the above tips are to be thoroughly relied upon.