April 1884 by StPetersYork

THE

PETI1:RITE. Vor.. VI .

AP1tIL,

1884 .

No . 43.

"CHEROOT :" A NOVELETTE, BY O-DA. (Continued.)

CHAPTER IV . LIFE IN A ZOUAVE CAMP.

African sun is blazing with its fiercest heat down on a tabaret in Tunis . It is a picturesque sight. Seated at little tables, placed here and there, under the shade of lofty elms, are the swarthy heroes of the French troops, the blue, red, and gold of their uniforms contrasted prettily with the neat costume of the vivandicre, as she flitted to and fro, supplying the wants of the bronzed veterans. " Sacre bleu ! a pretty croc-mitaine this, " cried a red-trousered ruffian, who, from a slight obliquity of vision, rejoiced in the soubriquet of CoquaL, " a great ugly rosbif. Pardieu ! to say we were not so good as the Arabs " As he spoke he ducked his head to avoid a bottle of eau de vie, which came whizzing from the fair hand of Cheroot, the vivandiure In vain, however ; for the bottle smashed against the tree beyond and, falling, laid open his head . Nothing disconcerted, the warrior wiped off the mass of blood, cognac, and broken glass, growling out the while, Corpo di Baccho ! ma belle . I could have done with that inside instead of outside . Pour-poi? you are wasting good liquor'. " "IIe said the truth, " screamed the vivandicre, with a pretty little stamp of her foot . " He is worth twenty such holmsons as you . There would have been precious little of you left this day, had he not cut off the Lead of the elephant, that was charging you yesterday, with one blow of his arm, this gentilleoounze with the hands of a woman and the occur of a lion ."

ILE

ellEROOT.

Caramba ! Notre-dame ! Mort de ma vie ! My eye ! To toss up, and say if it came down tetes, he would join the Arabs, or us, if it came down, by our lady ! tails . Que le diantre ! I believe hi petite is in love with him ." Moi, je in love . Comment say that of me ! " shrieked Cheroot, now furiously enraged . She advanced to him, and quietly upset hint into a tub of beer that stood by . Then she turned on her heel and walked off, singing " Purtous pour la Syrie. " CIIAPTER V. CIIEROOT TO TILE RESCUE.

Mid-day . For nine long hours since the first grey streaks of early dawn had reddened the west, our heroes had been struggling for dear life against the serried ranks of Araby 's swarthy sons . The wild waves of their fury had (lashed themselves in vain against the unbroken lines of the children of la France ." The sun was now sinking, and the wearied Zouaves were steadily giving way before the desperate charges of the Arab soldiery . In vain had Bel it faire peur, with all the courage of a royal Bougereau, that knew not when it was beaten, led them to hurl themselves with desperate valour against their foes . In vain had he slain ten men with one stroke of the arm that had stroked the Oxford eight five times to victory, in each charge . Their enemies numbered ten to their every one, and even he had begun to despair of success as he looked at their countless swarms, that seemed undiminished, though the ground was literally paved with Arab corpses. With dogged determination to conquer or die, the French soldiery were rallying once again at the sound of Cecil ' s clear tones, which they loved so well, when a shriek, as of an eagle when it has scented a carcase in the desert, came from the rear. °' Voici, mes camarades, Manilla it la rescousse . Here am I, my comrades ; Manilla Cheroot to the rescue ! " It was Cheroot. She came up, galloping far in the front of it reinforcement of cavalry, with her pistol pointed at the commander of tie Arabs. At the sound of her voice, the brave Zouaves redoubled their fury. They fought like demons, and Belle it. faire peur, with one arm hanging by the skin, swept down a whole line at one fell blow. But the Arabs, at the sight of her whom they dreaded more than the whole host, and who was believed among them to be the child de

CHEROOT.

le diable, turned round panic-stricken, and scuttled off in the darkness like startled hares to their burrows. With an exquisite kingly gesture, the scion of the Bougereaus, now a common corporal in an army of the riffraff of France, stooped down and kissed the darling of the army. "You have won the day, ma petite, " he said. " Pouf ! Chut, it was nothing cela ; you have killed a dozen Arabs to my one . " It was true, however . Manilla had saved the day. CHAPTER VI . TIIE FAIRE LADYE.

There had been feasting in the camp . A royal English Duke, with his sister, whose peerless beauty had driven half the ladies in Europe wild with envy, had been visiting Tunis, and entertained royally by the officers of the army. Their arrival had brought only a renewal of the old agony to Cecil . In the Duke he recognised the friend of the old happy careless past, the " Cherub," known to the world as Lord Cockingham then ; but now, eldest son as he was, on his father' s death, he had succeeded to a dukedom, the fairest estate and most splendid fortune in England. Among them also was the lady, whose languid interest in the soldiers had caused her to dally among the French army, and whose queenly grace and regal manner had roused a passion unquenchable in Cecil's breast, and reminded Into so potently of all that he once voluntarily sacrificed for another's sin, that he could scarce constrain himself from declaring who he was and from being traitor to the oath once made and so honourably kept. All the old battle had to be re-fought ; and Cecil's soul was tempest-tossed to think of all that might have been . But his nobility had gained the day, and now he was far away on a distant mission, hoping that, by his return, she might be gone, lest her presence should sacrifice the ra-won victory. This was the woman who had desired to see Cheroot this night in her tent alone. The vivandicre came with a determination to defy the haughty daughter of Albion—the silver pheasant—the gilded hoopoe. " je suis tleatucrat . I hate your aristocrats ; is not he an aristocrat .' Do I not hate hate Ism ? I do I " " \V"ho, my child? " said the peeress of Spain . iuothiug of our world . Wait and see before you speak. "

" You know

CHEROOT.

Cowed by her lofty demeanour and queenly gaze, Cheroot hung her head . At last she sobbed out, " Why, who but your Victor . as lie calls himself, whom you have even singled out for your especial favour . " " Child, you know not what yon say ; he is a corporal, I— " " I care not," laughed Cheroot, with bitter defiance . " You do not right to win the heart of our best soldier . IIe is the equal of any of your queens . AV ho are they ? Cela va sans dire ; I spit at them ! " Strange child " mused the princess. " I tell you lie loves you," cried Cheroot, grinding her little teeth. " Dear me," said the princess, wondering at this strange disclosure. " My poor little thing, your philosophy of this world is very crude, " she answered pityingly . I feel deeply for your youth and childishness ." " Sacre ; I fear not . You aristocrats trample on the scum of the earth and grind the poor to stuff your couches with roses ! He was one of you once ; I hate you all . " The languid stare of amused surprise with which Venetia heard these voids taught Cheroot her own inferiority. She gazed angrily at the Turkey carpet, cowed and subdued, as ashamed of herself as was possible for one like her. I see, " murmured the princess, " that your education is far from complete ; I fear— " " ° Pear—ciel de dieu—I know no fear," all her passion bursting out at the hated word . " See," and she levelled her pistol at Venetia's placid head. " I see, " calmly replied the other, nothing disconce .ted, as she reached out her fan and tapped the other's knuckles so as to drop the deadly weapon . " We know not fear either, ill-bred girl ; my interest in you only prevents me sending- yon away ." " Why did you send for me ? Voici, I am here ! Why did I come ? I knoll- not . I hate him with unutterable hate . " "I sent for you to give you something I thought you would like. Daughter of the camp and guardian of the canteen, I thought this would be useful to you . " And the princess swept grandly to her desk and reached out, a princess to a vivandicre, a pretty jewelled stylograph and penwiper to match, with a priceless pearl set in the midst. " Pouf, aristocrat ! I scorn your bribes . The daughter of the army cares not for the pampered luxury of a palace . Besides, I cannot

CHEROOT .

write ." And with a bitter laugh that was like a scream and a sob, Cheroot hurled the trifle on the ground, and throwing her tunic over her head, rushed out of the tent. For long the princess sat gazing at the stars. " Can he love me," she said, " I thought I saw a tender look in his eye only a fortnight ago . But away with girlish romances . Let me call my women, and get to bed ." CHAPTER VII . IN VENETIA ' S TENT. "Mlle tonneres, nton caporal ; the fair English lady wishes you to

take to her the paintings on which you have spent so much pains, " said Zacristi, one morning, to our hero. " Who said so ? " languidly purred the old guardsman, with the instinct of his old caste, which forbade him to show the eager beating of his heart. " Why, she sent the message to the Colonel ." " Very well ; I will attend the princess," loftily answered Bel a faire peur. And that night beheld him lazily walking to her tent, with several large oil paintings under each arm . For he could not forget the cultured and refined tastes of old days ; and many an hour had he spent on works that would not have disgraced a Turner, showing forth in splendid colours the gorgeous lights and shades of Afric climes, thus gaining distraction from the noise and brutality of the uncultured ruffians among whom a strange fate had thrown him . Cake came labouring after him with as many pictures more ; for, faithful till death, his trusty follower had not deserted him in his hour of need. A few minutes sufficed to bring them to the door of the tent, and there bidding his attendant to deposit his burden and go, Cecil waited, watching the sinking sun . Ere long the princess called to him to enter. He went in ; but the courage that had so long nerved him gave way, and he stood speechless and abashed before the object of ins hopeless adoration . Despite her pride, the lady liked to see him pay this tribute to her beauty . It was worth having, the love of this gallant soldier, who never feared till then, before whom the fiercest Arab lowered and recoiled. "I ai aivoyu pour vous," she began " Don ' t mind the French, my lady," replied Beauty ; " I may at least congratulate myself on having been born in the same country with you ."

C I I EROOT.

"Then you are he, " said or rather screamed the princess . " You are the friend of my brother's youth whom I have so wished to see. I cannot be mistaken ; those eyes, the haughty curl of your nose, those , mellifluous tones—all, all tell of a Bougereau . But how is it you are not dead ; we all thought you were, and mourned long for you ? "'Tis no use to conceal what cannot be concealed . Ask not the past ; I live but for the future . Oh lady," he sadly but animatedly continued, "you know not what it is to hear an English voice again, though you I have never seen before. " " But do you know that you are Viscount Bougerean in your own right . Your three elder brothers are all dead with their father . He killed himself with drink ; your eldest brother fell iii a duel ; your second broke his neck as he was riding in a match for a million pounds ; your third committed suicide in an affair of hopeless love, after shooting his lady dead through the heart, ribs, and neck. " " I know ; but what boots it to talk, lady . I cannot come back without betraying another ! " But cannot you come for his sake, my brother's I mean . It is not right thus to throw yourself away ." " Ah lady, cannot you see, it could only be for your sake I would come . I have thought of none other since I saw you ; I love you ; I adore you to distraction ; my heart beats only for you ; I love, love, love you ." " Really, this is too sudden," said the haughty princess, hiding her face in her cambric handkerchief ; " I didn't think, I—I—I—didn ' t know, you know . Besides, what would my brother say ? You are only a corporal ; if you had been a general, of course— " " I know, I know," replied Cecil, now reckless ; " but I have six centimes a day, and you have probably a million ; we might live on that ." " I cannot, I cannot," passionately replied Venetia ; " do not urge me . I have no mother, and must look after myself. " " • Is this your ultimatum, " said Cecil with the easy sad grace that had ere now wrought such havoc among the fair ladies of the Upper Ten. " It is," she said, and straightway swooned in his arms. Imprinting a thousand impassioned kisses on her fair brow, Cecil placed her gently on the golden sand . Then he rushed out like a madman, knowing not what he did or said, crying out with moans that woke up the echoes on the shores of far Italy, beyond the sea .

cltEnoOT.

Qui va lh," said a hoarse voice beside him ; but it seemed like a dream to Cecil, and he heeded it not. "Oh ho, aha," said a voice that he knew too well—his colonel's. Our brave gar;ou has just left his girl . Shoot him if he will not give the password ." The tones of his brutal commander woke him from his reverie. Was he, a hougereau, to suffer this low-born upstart, who had consistently insulted him from the first—now putting him on half rations of dry bread and water, now making him clean the floors of the canteen— was he to suffer this man to insult Turn any longer . All the ancestors of his royal line stood up and cried " No " to him ; and, with the leap of a tiger on his prey, he sprang at the defenceless commandant, and pinioned him to the ground. " That ' s a big lie," was all he said ; and, rising slowly from his victim, he walked unconcernedly towards the camp. "Seize him, seize him, " screamed the infuriated ruffian . " He dies the day after to-morrow, if there be death in a French rifle . " And so a royal Bougereau was condemned to die like a common soldier, unknown, unwept, and unmoun ted.

CHAPTER 1 - 111 . A LAST RESOURCE.

A pretty picture was Manilla, leaning out of her quaint old lattice window, at Algiers, in her piquant unaesthetic costume, blowing the circling smoke of a Carancha de Cabaras into eddying rings, and taking occasional draughts from a flask of green Chartreuse that hung by her side. Away from the camp, from her conscious inferiority by the side of the " silver pheasant, " it her old home, with all her friends—the cats perched upon her dainty shoulders—she was happy and breathed freely again—the camp had lost its charm—he cared not for her—she was glad to be away, and yet she thought and thought of him. Lolling, lolling the idle day away. Beneath her, in the street, the tnniced inhabitants whistled as they hurried to their toil—a ceaseless stream ; when a hand in the crowd dexterously threw a rude note to the vivandii,re, who deftly caught and read it. She was thinking how she hated him, and yet the scrawl told something that made her cheek pale with sudden blanching emotion . She lightly leapt into the street below, and rushed wildly

CHEI:OOT.

down it, not knowing where she went . She only saw the message that a boy soldier had sent burning before her frenzied eyes. " Twenty-four hours and he must die ; chat, I hate the whitehanded aristocratic, and yet he is brave and loved mes enfants ; he should not die." Thus she raved—flying the deadly, though absortive love that constrained her—she hurried madly on ; past tent, past house and garden, past all the Spakes and Turcos that loved her well . Iler brain was reeling ; her eyes gazed frantically around ; she felt consciousness swooning away . On a sudden she sailed into a maison publique. She seized a light-haired Englishman, who was idly quaffing champagne, by the throat ; her dainty hands quivered as they gripped and shook him ; her voice rattled as she hissed, " You know him ; he dies ; he is one of you ! " " Might I ask if you are sober ? " languidly asked the other, as his face turned and showed that of Cecil's brother—the usurping lord. Instinct had strangely led her right. " Hear you—he dies—tomorrow—Victor ." " Who—my brother ? " gasped the other. " Ile is English—save him ; you know him ; I see it in your face, " yelled Cheroot, and she throttled him the tighter. " Here—let me consider, " he cried ; " what can I do ? IIe is my brother ; oh dear a me ! "Pah —you helpless gar!ion—write he is your brother—go see him— beg him off . I ride to-night a hundred miles to the Marechal—he only can give reprieve—or else he dies ere the next sun rises in the east ." She hurried off heedless that only a corpse had fallen from her madly unconscious bands—a victim to internal contending emotions and her own excited frenzy.

CRAFTER Ix . " ALL FOR LOVE . "

Already the sand was shimmering under the rays of the rising sun, when a tall noble-looking man was led out by twenty-four soldiers, on to a piazza paved with stone, in the heart of Tunis . IIe seemed wearily careless of what was passing, though they, who were soon to be his executioners, sobbed aloud, each with his face buried in the rag that served for a handkerchief .

CHEROOT . as

Courage, ieec en/hoe," said Cecil, ' I don ' t care a little hang myself. This is the last time these optics will look on yonder sun," he cheerily remarked . " Can I have a brandy and soda . " They brought it him ; and true to the last to the canons of his order, Cecil, scorning to be blindfolded, gaily stepped to his place. "I'm ready, you fellows," he remarked, with the weary nonchalance befitting a guardsman. Poor, bang ! to

Stop, stop 1 " rang out a voice from behind ; " reprieve, reprieve . '

It was too late ; four-and-twenty bullets had sped on their fatal errand . But not too quickly for one whose movements were rapid as the lightning' flash . Quick as thought, Cheroot, for it was she, sprang off her horse, and clasped her hero, the idol of her heart, in a last embrace. " Can this be death that is stealing over inc,' thought; Cecil ;

this the finger of the dread monarch of all ? If so, it is better than I thought ." "Cheroot is shot, Cheroot is dying, Cheroot is dead!" cried the impassioned vivandibre ; but thou, oh thou, say thou art not dead ? IIe was not dead. On the contrary, Cheroot had intercepted the fatal messengers of death ; and now, pierced by four-and-twenty bullets, she lay dying on his heart. Kiss me, mom brave," she murmured ; "this for the last time. I have brought your pardon, and now I die . But, pornf, that is nothing. I would have done the same for any of my children ; so don ' t you think I am in love with you . " * Cecil Bougereau is now Lord Bougereau, owner of the fairest estates in broad England ; and Venetia de Corina is now Lady Bougereau . But year by year Lord and Lady Bougereau visit a certain grave iii Tunis, crowned with a lowly tombstone, on which is inscribed To MANILLA CIIEROOT, who died for A NOT TIER .

THE INFLUENCE OF THE STAGE. " All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players ." —Shakespeare.

W HATI:V ER may the opinion as to whether humanity, as a W ~/ whole, is making real progress in the paths of virtue, there can is

be no doubt that in many spheres of life a decided change for the better is noticeable to the observer . Perhaps nowhere has this improvement been more rapid than in the influence of our stage upon the people ; for the advance in morality which has taken place of late years in its teaching is remarkable. This influence, being so widely felt, it is of the utmost importance that

should be a good one ; and yet there was

a time, within living memory, when drunkenness and debauchery were the common accompaniments of the purlieus of the Theatre . At such a time, when it was truly said of England "Lo, where the stage, the poor, degraded stage, Holds its warped mirror to a gaping age," it was not to be wondered that all people who viewed life seriously should have considered it their duty to protest against the flagrant evils they then witnessed at our theatres, nor that their protests should have resulted in generating a deeply-rooted aversion to the stage, which it will take long years to extirpate . Perhaps, in some quarters, this aversion is so deep that it will never be entirely removed. That the stage has not necessarily a degrading influence will be admitted, when it is remembered that the influence exercised by the drama of the Greeks and Romans was a good and noble one . Their stage served to commend the religion, government, and public worship of their country, and their plays appealed to the higher instincts of men—honour, love, nobleness, honesty, courage, and the like . The Athenian plays were written with such a regard for morality that even Socrates was not afraid to frequent the theatres of his time ; and Cicero considered the Roman plays worthy of his personal support. Once, it is true, Cato dropped into a Roman theatre when the " Floralia" were to be represented ; and, as in that performance, which was a kind of religious ceremony, there were some indecent parts to be acted, the people refused to see them while Cato was present . The following is a translation of an epigram written by Martial regarding this incident :—

THE INFI .I!ENCE Os' TIIE STAGE .

" Why dost thou come, great censor of thy age, To see the loose diversions of the stage? With awful countenance, and brow severe, What, in the name of goodness, dost thou here? See the mix d (lewd !—how giddy, lewd, and vain ! Didst thou cone in, but to go out again?" The faithful representation of heathen religious rites was inseparable from much that was objectionable . and what was honoured in the Temple might very well therefore be found indecent in the Theatre . But Cato's experience, as related above, is not to be taken as an example of the condition of the stage in his time . This was a rare occurrence amongst the Greeks and Romans ; for they were far too wise to stake their nightly entertainments other than what would improve and elevate the people . It is clear that, from the manner iii which they conducted their theatres, there are many lessons for us to gather, and it would have been well if more attention had been always paid to these. The influence of the stage is certainly very strong . By way of an example of the value to which theatricals may attain, we have only to point to the remarkable disclosures which have been made respecting polygamy in Utah by Mrs . Stenhouse . The very-hitch-married ladies of Salt Lake City have a strong predilection for dramatic entertainments; and, in the absence of any religion worthy of the name, the stage stepped into its proper position of a great moral teacher . As a rule, every drama delineates the absorbing love of (it , t man for one woman; and this (to them) novel idea set the ladies of Utah, where a solitary husband is apportioned to a great variety of wires, deeply pondering. What was the result? The drama gave a very decided blow to the principles of polygamy. The chief point to be observed in the dramas of the present day is that, whatever vices are now represented, they are marked and branded, and the bad characters are painted in their true colours . The villain, for instance, is not put forward as a man worthy of respect, as was only too common fifty years ago, but of loathing and contempt ; while the virtuous man stands out in high relief as an example for men to copy. Thus the stage contributes its assistance to the advancement of morality, and the reformation of the age ; for none can spend two or three hours in one of the higher entertainments of this kind without rising wiser and better than when he entered the building. Aristotle ' s deep view of the result of violent tragic drama was "that it aims, through the medium of two feelings which it represents in action—terror and fear—to refine these and similar passions in the

SCHOOL LETTER.

spectators ." But we must confess that in this refinement of feeling there is danger ; for as the terrible and pathetic in real life are painful things to witness, and as on the stege the worst part is taken away by the consciousness that they are unreal, yet they give rise to an impression somewhat akin to that which is produced by the reality ; and the feeling which should be painful is, when thus diluted, made enjoyable . A person thus " refined" will turn aside from circumstances where pain is not present to intensify excitement : such an one will be found wanting when true feeling is required for toe, because his feelings will have got into the habit of being roused without leading to exertion . We see, with Shakespeare " How use cloth breed a habit in a man !" But this danger is only to be feared from witnessing the tragic drama to excess ; and indeed the same injnriens effect would result from reading romance to excess, though a little of either alight be beneficial.

[7o be continued.]

SCHOOL LETTER. HE Bout laces have lately occupied all attention . Most of them are by this time over . The Day Boys, as was expected, have won the Senior House Fours, and the Civil the School Fours. The Scheel House were very unfortunate in having to row without Brandt, who was not well enough to row : Little took his place . The absence of some important members of the senior boats a short time ago having left an afternoon without any races, some scratch pairs were quickly arranged, so that spectators alight not be disappointed. C . Johnson and W . G . Nilson were the favou r ites and won . The Scratch hours have begun, and there were some good races on the first day . Very few O . P .'s took part . The interest of the spectators which had fallen during an uninteresting row over was revived by one of the coxes who fell over the side of the boat just before arriving at the bank, and was seen vigourously striking out fur the bank with one foot in the boat . He got free however, and succeeded iii Iandi safely . There is some talk of a race between a representative crew from the School and a crew of O .P ' s after the school races are over. The Debating Society, as will be seen from the accounts of meetings . is still in force and shows no sign of falling through. Nearly all the debates ]nave been attended by more than 20 members .

BOATING. IIE Boat Races began on March 22nd and continued till April I. They were unfortunately delayed by the absence of some, who were trying their luck at the Universities, and of others through indisposition . The weather all through was splendid and attracted large numbers of spectators . As regards the rowing there appears to be an improvement on former years, all crews this year being in good training . Many of the races were indeed hollow, notably the senior fours between the two houses, and the final heat of the senior sculls. The junior races were miserably contested, there being only two pairs and 2 entries for the sculls . This augurs ill for another year and is altogether inexplicable, for at no time were there more juniors in the School . But they seem to think that the races are for their especial benefit, in fact something to go and see, and excuse themselves from rowing either on the plea that " it ' s too much fag," or that they " have no chance. " The senior races on the other hand chew an improvement' there being 6 entries for the sculls two of which, however, scratched before the race. The two best races of the season were the Senior House final, which resulted in a dead heat, though the Day boys won it in the end, and the final of the School Fours which the Civil just managed to win by four feet. The first races was :—School Fours, 1st heat.

CIVIL F . W. Faber (bow) R. C . Rose H. N. Crossley F . R . Brandt (stroke) J . Scarbrough (cos)

t..

SCHOOL. N . Williamson (bow) R . Crawsha v R . F. Halliwell T . H . Little (stroke) Carter (cox)

This was a very hollow affair, the Civil, as was expected, rowing right away from their lighter opponents and winning Ly -1- lengths. A heat of the Senior sculls followed : J . G. Wilson

C . B. Clarke

A good race was expected, as it was thought that Clarke's weight and strength would counterbalance Wilson's superior style . However these expectations were disappointed, for Clarke's erratic steering soon gave his opponent a lead, which he gradually increased, passing the winning-post 4 lengths in advance.

BOATING.

No . 3 was a Junior Pair : A . Rose (bow) C. Haynes (stroke) J . Mortimer (cox)

J . A . Dunkerley (bow) J . E . Gofton (stroke) S . T . Chadwick (cox)

The former were the heavier pair and won by 31 lengths, though. their style was more amusing than pretty. The concluding event of the day was another heat of the Senior sculls : R . C. Rose

R. Crawshaw

Rose was by far the stronger of the two and led all the way, .. finally winning by 3 lengths, though Crawsbaw pulled very pluckily and in excellent style throughout. On Tuesday, 25th, the races could not be continued owing to the absence of various fellows, and so scratch pairs were got up and. resulted as follows : — A. W. G. Wilson (bow) H . W . Rhodes (bow) C . Johnson (stroke) v. D. Marshall (stroke) J. Mortimer (cox) S. T . Chadwick (cox) Johnson rowing a quick stroke led all the way and won by 1 length .. B. H . N . Crossley (bow) F . W . Faber (stroke) J . Mortimer (cox)

P . E. Lord (bow) C . B . Clarke (stroke) S . T. Chadwick (cox)

Faber rowing a grand scratch stroke soon brought his boat i length to the front, which he increased to a and won by that distance. C. J. G. Wilson (bow) R. Crawshaw (stroke) S. T. Chadwick (cox) Rowed over. Winner of A then rowed and beat winner of B by 4 length. Final. W. G. Wilson (bow) J. G. Wilson (bow) R. Crawshaw (stroke) C . Johnson (stroke) S. T. Chadwick (cox) J. Mortimer (cox) Both boats got off well at the start, but the superior strength of Johnson's boat soon began to tell, and accordingly it won by a length .

BOATING.

On Thursday there were only two races, the first being :— Senior House Fours (1st heat). SCHOOL HOUSE H . W. Rhodes (bow) C . B . Clarke T. H . Little P. E . Lord (stroke) G . C . Waud (cox)

REV . H . L. CLARKE'S. R. Crawshaw (bow) D. Marshall H . N . Crossley C . Johnson (stroke) J. Scarbrough (cox)

A good race was expected, but a very poor one took place . Soon after the start Johnson, who as usual pulled a quick stroke, soon brought his boat to the front, and at the "corner " was leading by 2 lengths, which was increased to 3, this being the distance between the two boats at the finish. It is only fair to say that the School House was deprived of the services of F. R . Brandt, who was unable to row through a slight illness. The Junior sculls followed : E . R . White

C . Haynes

The result of this race was quite unexpected. Both boats got off well at the start, but when the corner was reached White was leading by about a length . Here responding to loud cries from the bank he put on a spurt and quickly drew away from his opponent, winning by G lengths . Haynes ' steering was very erratic. Saturday was a splendid day, and consequently great numbers lined the banks and were rewarded by two splendid races. Senior House Fours (final) : DAY BOYS' J. Cr . Wilson (bow) W. Murray R . Rose W . G . Wilson (stroke) C . Haynes (cox)

T•.

Ri ~ . H. L . CLARKE'S. R. Crawshaw (bow) D . Marshall H . N . Crossley C . Johnson (stroke) J . Scarbrough (cox)

The two boats got off to a good start and for some distance rowed level, but at the White Railing the Boarders had gained nearly half a length . The Day Boys having the near station then made up the lost ground and came through Scarbro' Bridge about 4 feet ahead . This advantage they maintained to Lendal Bridge, where the Boarders came with a spurt, and the result was a dead heat.

BOA'T'ING.

On rowing off on the Monday, the Day boys won easily. (2 .)

SIXrH. W. G. Wilson (bow) C . B . Clarke P . E . Lord C . Johnson (stroke) J . G . Wilson (cox.)

CIVIL F . W . Faber (bow) R . Rose H. N . Crossley F . R . Brandt (stroke) J . Scarbrough (cox .)

This was a splendid race . The Civil got the best of the start, owing to one of the Sixth losing his oar, and were leading by nearly a length at the boat house ; but the Sixth, getting well together, soon began to come up, and at the corner were not quite half a length to the bad . Then the Sixth gradually gained on their opponents, but were not quite able to overtake them, for the Civil just passed the post 4 feet in advance. The Junior House Fours and Final of the Sculls, which had been unavoidably postponed, were rowed on Wednesday and Friday evenings following. On Wednesday . Junior House Fours. v. DAY BOYS A . Rose (bow) R. Haynes J . B . Stevenson N . Williamson (stroke) G . Lane (cox)

REV . II . L . CLARKES. H . Bloomfield (bow) H . McClellan H . Rudgard W. Ford (stroke) J . Scarbrough (cox)

The latter were the favourites, but failng to row a quick stroke, the Day boys, greatly aided by the current, gradually took the lead, and, increasing it, won by 3+ lengths. Senior Sculls (Final) . — R . Rose r. J . Wilson

Rose, making good use of his strength and sitting his boat well, soon left Wilson, who, getting disheartened, rowed hardly up to his usual form. Rose won by six lengths and plenty to spare. On Friday, 4th, the Final of the Junior House Fours was pulled off. SCHOOL HOUSE F. W . Faber (bow) R . T . E . Fausset R . F . Halliwell T. H . Little (stroke) G. C . Waud (cox .)

DAY BOYS. A. Rose (bow) R. Haynes J . B . Stevenson N . 'Williamson (stroke) G . Lane (cox .)

At the time of going to press the result of this race had not been decided, owing to the claim of a foul against the Day boys .

THE DEBATING SOCIETY. HE Society held its second meeting on Saturday, February 18th. Before the motion was brought forward, a code of rules, which had been drawn up by a sub-committee appointed for the purpose, were read out before the Rouse and unanimously approved . The following elections were then made . President, Rev . H . L . Clarke ; VicePresident, W. G . Wilson ; Committee, P . E. Lord, C . Johnson, J. B. Stevenson . W . G . Wilson then moved, "That in the opinion of this House the House of Commons was justified in preventing Mr . Bradlaugh from taking the oath ." After an apology for bringing before the House a subject which had already been discussed, the mover loudly declaimed the conduct of Mr . Bradlaugh in refusing to take the oath, thereby outraging the religious feeling of the House and the majority of his fellow-countrymen . IIe declared it monstrous that a professedly reasonable being, who declared that the oath had no binding force on his conscience should be justified in appealing to a Deity whose existence he denied . In his opinion the House was fully justified in expelling a blasphemer from their midst . The national religion was the basis of

the constitution, and that was the highest principle that ever guided our legislation ; when this was endangered, the foundation of the state would be undermined . H . Crawshaw then rose to second and appealed to the House for their support of the motion . The opposition were led by J . Wilson, who was promptly followed up by J . B . Stevenson. The discussion was continued by Wuly, Clarke, Johnson, and Rev . II. L . Clarke, and as the debate languished the President called on the mover to reply, after which the House divided, the motion being carried by a majority of 11. On Saturday, February 23rd, C . Johnson moved, " That the Sunday Closing Act would be injurious ." The mover was seconded by N . Williamson, and opposed by C . Rose. L . W. Pickles then, in a fluent speech, expressed his disagreement with Johnson's arguments, and gave some statistics showing the wide approbation with which the Act was received throughout the country . Rev . H . L . Clarke then followed with a speech which strongly condemned the motion . At this point P . E . Robinson introduced an amendment on the motion couched

TOE DEBATING SOCIETY.

in the following terms, " That this House, though deploring the state of drunkenness in this country, more especially that which mars the proper observance of the Sabhath, thinks that a Sunday Closing Act would not tend to remedy the evil." The amendment was seconded by J . Noble, and, on a division, was thrown out by a majority of 16 . R. Crosthwaite then spoke in support of the original motion, and C . Johnson replied . The IIouse dividing, the motion was defeated by a majority of 8. On Saturday, March 1st, owing to the unavoidable absence of Rev. II. L. Clarke, Rev . W . Routh kindly acted as president . J . Noble moved that " Charles I . was a Martyr ." The mover's speech consisted chiefly of a review of the history of Charles I ., with whom he said he heartily sympathised . IIe was then ably seconded by F . R. Brandt, who, in a well-prepared speech, expressed his concurrence with the mover's opinions . W . G . AVilson rose to oppose, and was followed by F . E . Robinson, while C . Johnson and R. Holmes spoke in support of the motion. On a division, the motion was defeated by a majority of 1. On Saturday, March 8th, W . G . A\"ilson moved, " That a Classical Education is a better mental training than a Scientific Education . " The debate on this occasion rather took the form of a contest between the Sixth and Civil Forms, the former, almost without exception, being in favour of a classical education, and the latter, with equal unanimity, a scientific education . The mover very cleverly supported his motion, and by the general drift of his speech, showed that he held the study of science, and more especially the solely mathematical portion of science in considerable contempt . After the motion had been seconded by C . Johnson, F . E . Robinson rose promptly to oppose the motion, and was supported by Rev. AV. Routh, who, after an amusing speech, was followed by Rev II. L . Clarke and R . Holmes . As there was then no promise of any further discussion, W . G . Wilson replied, and the House divided, the motion being carried by a majority of 3. On Satu rday, March 15th, A . Rose moved, "That the impeachment of Warren Hastings was perfectly unjustifiable ." The mover was seconded by J . Noble, it Holmes leading the opposition . As the discussion began to wander from the real question, the Rev . W . Routh

CORRESPONDENCE .

reminded the House of the real point before the House for discussion. He was then followed by the Rev . II . L . Clarke, who strongly opposed the motion, while W . G.Wilson spoke in favour of it . After a few remarks by L. W. Pickles on the side of the opposition, A . Rose replied . On a division an equal number declared in favour of the motion and against it . The casting vote of the president, however, decided against the motion, which was accordingly thrown out by a majority of 1. On Saturday, March 22nd, the Rev . 'LV . Routh moved, "That the present working of the Poor Laws is in some respects defective ." In . opeaing the debate Mr . Routh, in a very well-reasoned speech, advanced many convincing arguments in favour of his motion, and was ably seconded by L. W . Pickles . The Rev . H . L. Clarke followed with a very humorous speech, after which the House divided, the motion being carried by a majority of 8.

CORRESPONDENCE. do not know whether "Anti-Swag " was present at the 'Varsity match, but I may inform him that my assertion that the 'Cambridge try was gained by a misunderstanding was not without foundation. As I happened to be within two yards of the place where Chilcott grounded the ball, I think I may speak with some confidence of the circumstances, which were as follows :—Asher received a temporary injury, and most of the Oxford team were clustering round, and I myself heard Tatham call out to ask for the game to be stopl :ed while ,they looked to see what was the matter . Some Cantabs did stop, but SIRS,—I

the majority, by a series of passes, succeeded in letting Chilcott have an unopposed run in, as Tristram was the only back in the way, the threequarters and almost all the forwards having stopped playing . After the try was obtained I again heard the Oxford captain appeal against it—not for any illegality, but simply for the misunderstanding above mentioned. As regards the fact that the match was not consistent with public form, I need only say that Cambridge have suffer ed three defeats and two draws, while several of their victories were over clubs much weaker

NOTES AND ITEMS.

than any the Oxonians play, e. q. H .M .S . Marlborough . The form displayed by Cambridge against Wakefield Trinity, as compared with that of Oxford against Yorkshire, and the results of the Old Leys encounter with the two 'Varsities—en passant the Oxford team in this last match was disgracefully weak—all point to the same result, and the correctness of the form then displayed. Next comes a charge of partiality. Might I call attention to the fact that the word " We" in the quotation he makes has a dangerous trace of partiality in it . It evidently comes from some one in a club to which Don Wauchope belongs. On the other side let me remind Anti-Swag " that at the time when the Oxford letter was written Don Wauchope was doing absolutely nothing in the football world, and that all critics spoke of Asher and Rotherham as the finest halves then playing . Lastly, let me quote opinions expressed by leading papers, such as the Field, Bell's Life, about the International match :—" Asher and Maclagan were the best of the Scotch behinds ; " "Don Wauchope's play was disappointing : in fact, he seemed outclassed . " The worst that is said of Rotherham is that he was not up to form, while all papers alike speak well of Asher. ODOD. [This correspondence must cease . The events alluded to are so long past that any further allusion to them seems unadvisable .]

NOTES AND ITEMS. G . II. E1RE is rowing 2 in the Cambridge Eight. Royal Marine Light Infantry : E . Y. DANIEL to be Lieutenant. Worcestershire Regiment : Lieut. A . . C . E Telfer.

MOSS

to be Captain, vico

Bombay Staff Corps : To be Lieutenant, Lieut . G . W . from West Yorkshire Regiment.

MITCHELL,

At the Examination for Honours of candidates for admission on the Roll of Solicitors of the Supreme Court, the Examination Committee recommended W . II . JACKSON as entitled to honorary distinction. F. WATSON,

of S. John ' s, Cambridge, has taken his B . D . degree .