 Barkley's Bonfire by Ralph Henry Barbour, read for the Coffee Break Collection 27, Sports by Donald Cummings. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Barkley's Bonfire Cobb 1901, Assistant Editor of the Daily Quarmazi, left the office, crossed the road, and entered the college yard by the simple expedient of placing one hand on the fence and vaulting over upon the forbidden grass. Cobb held a Latin book under one arm, for even if one labors on a college paper to mold undergraduate opinion, he is not exempt from a certain amount of class attendance and carried an open letter in his hand. His round, good-natured face wore a broad grin, and whenever he looked at the letter, his grin increased. He entered the first entrance to Gray's Hall, bounded up two flights of narrow stairway, and pounded at a door. An invitation to enter came faintly through two thicknesses of oak, and Cobb confronted the single occupant of the room. How are you, Barkley? Thanks, no, can't stop. Just dropped round to leave this with you. Got it in this morning's mail at the office. Said to myself, just one man in college who'll take interest in this. That's Barkley. So I brought it to you. Might answer it, eh? Good idea seems to me. Hope you'll be able to do something about it. Bye! And Cobb, grinning like a jovial sadder, was gone. Barkley, ninety-nine, laid his penicide with slow deliberateness, marked his place in the big Greek lexicon beside him, and took up the letter. It was addressed to the editor of the Quarmasi, and was signed Hyrum G. Larkin, Yale, ninety-nine. The writer asked to be put in communication with some student in the rival college who was interested in checkers. He dwelt enthusiastically on the formation of a dual checker league. He pointed out the fact that although chess, wist, and other games of skill and science were recognized and participated in each year by teams representing the two universities, the noble game of checkers had been hereto woefully neglected. He suggested that teams be formed at each university, and that a tournament be played to decide the championship. When Barkley laid aside the letter, his long and aesthetic face held an expression of enthusiastic delight. The one dissipation and hobby of Barkley's studious existence was checkers. He held a college-wide reputation as a grind of the most prominent type. Barkley did not look down on the usual pleasures and frolics of the undergraduate. They simply had, for him, no appeal. He had nothing against football or baseball or track athletics, but he felt no enthusiasm for any of them. Of course, he was always glad when the college teams won. He was patriotic to a high degree, and sometimes, when the bonfires burned and the students cheered and sang, he acknowledged a wish lying deep down in his heart that he too might be able to derive pleasurable emotions from such celebrations. Barkley, in short, loves Xenophonies and Xenophon, and next to them, checkers. Before he went to bed that night, he answered Yale man's letter, endorsed the project voluminously, pledged immediate cooperation, and remained fraternally his Simonides P. Barkley. I have no intention of specifying in detail the steps which resulted in the formation of the Intercollegiate Checkers Association. Barkley and Larkin wrote to each other at least every other day, and at the end of three weeks the matter was settled, not, perhaps, just as they had hoped for. Barkley had labored heroically to find a membership for the Checkers Club, but without a veil. None wanted to join. Many scoffed, and instead of enthusiasm, he awakened only ridicule, and the Yale man reported like results. So when the rival teams met in a private room in Young's Hotel one December day, they consisted of just Larkin, Yale 99, and Barkley. The tournament was held behind tightly closed doors. Consequently, I am unable to report the play for the reader's benefit. Enough the deep silence and undoubted skill held sway until dusk, at which time the two teams passed into the dining hall and ate a dinner, at which much good feeling was displayed by both, and at which day's play was rehearsed scientifically, from oysters to coffee. The teams then shook hands and parted at the entrance. Barkley boarded a car and returned to college, filled with overwhelming triumph. He won three out of the seven games and drawn two. The Checkers Championship rested with Harvard. Such a spirit of jubilation possessed Barkley that when he reached his unadorned room and had changed his gold rimmed glasses for his reading spectacles, he found that Greek for once did not satisfy. He tried light reading in the form of a monograph on the origin of Greek drama, but even then his attention wandered continually. He laid down the book, wiped his glasses thoughtfully, and frowned at the green lampshade. Plainly something was wrong, but what? He pondered deeply for several minutes. Then his brow cleared and he settled his specs over his lean nose again. He had found the trouble. The victory, said Barkley soberly to the lampshade, demands a celebration. The more we thought of it, the more evident it appeared that the day's triumph over the Yale Checkers Club deserved some sort of a public jubilee. He might, considered Barkley, put his head out of the window and cheer, but he wasn't sure that he knew how, or he might shoot off a revolver if he had one, or he might start a bonfire. Ah, that was it, a bonfire! The idea appealed strongly to him, and he remembered that as a boy on a New Hampshire farm, bonfires had ever moved him strangely. He rose and thrust his feet into a pair of immense overshoes, tied a muffler about his long neck, donned his worn ulster, turned down the lamp, and passed out of the room. Yes, he would celebrate with a bonfire. A victory over Yale at Checkers was quite as important in Barkley's estimation as a triumph over the blue-stocking football warriors. Fifteen minutes later a window at the upper end of the college yard was slammed open and a voice bawled into the frosty night. Heads out! All heads out! Then up and down the quadrangle casements were raised, and broad beams of light glowed out into the gloom, while dozens of other voices passed on the slogan. Heads out, fellows! Heads out! What's up? cried a thin voice from an upper window of Thayer. Bonfire in front of university was the answer. Bonfire in the yard! All heads out! sped the cry. Everybody get wood! shouted a voice from Weld. Everybody get wood! shouted half a hundred other voices. Then windows were shut, and eager youths clattered downstairs and into the yard, and suddenly the quiet night had become a pandemonium. In front of university hall a lone figure fed, with shingles and odd bits of wood, a small bonfire, which cast its wan glow against the white front of the sober pile, as if dismayed at its own temerity. For bonfires in the yard are strictly forbidden, and it was many years before the last one had sent its sparks up in front of university. Barkley knew this, and welcomed the danger of probation or dismissal as adding an appropriate touch of the grand and heroic to his celebration. Everybody get wood! What's it for? Raa for the bonfire! Who's doing it? Wood! Wood! Get wood, fellows! One of the first to reach the scene was Cobb 1901. A dozen others were close behind him. Hello, what's up? What we celebrating? he asked breathlessly. Then he caught a glimpse of the thin, bespectacled visage of Barkley, and gasped. Why? Why it's old Barkley! Raa for Barkley, old grind! shouted another. He's the stuff! Everybody get wood! At that moment a worn-out hencoupe arrived suddenly on the scene, and a shower of sparks told that the fire was gaining courage. But say, old man, what's it all about? asked Cobb. We're celebrating a victory over Yale, answered Barkley soberly, as he adjusted a plank with his foot. There was no undue excitement exhibited by this tall figure in the long ulster, but underneath his calm the blood raced madly through his veins, and a strange and well-nigh uncontrollable joy possessed him as the flames leaped higher and higher. He stooped and picked a brand from the edge of the fire. He waved at the rice about his head, sending the flaring sparks over the ever-increasing crowd. Hooray! he yelled in queer uncanny tones. Raa, raa, raa! answered the throng. Everybody get wood! But what did we do to him? asked Cobb, wonderingly. What's the victory? Won the checker championship, answered Barkley proudly. A roar of laughter went up. Fellows fell on their neighbor's necks, and giggled hysterically. A football man sat down in the fire and had to be rescued by his friends. Cobb hugged Barkley and patted him on the back. Good-ho Barkley, he gurgled. Oh, good-ho Barkley! Won the checker's champ, champ, champ. Oh, dear, oh, dear. Somebody hit me before I... I... More wood, bawled someone. Raa for Barkley, the champion checkerist. Everybody cheer for Barkley. And everybody did, many, many times. More wood leaped from out the darkness and fell upon the flaming heap, which now rose to the fellow's shoulders and crackled right merrily. The vicinity of the bonfire was black with yelling, laughing students, and every moment their number grew as the light was seen at distant dormitories or the shouting was heard across the avenue. Speech! cried the throng. Speech, speech! And Barkley was quickly elevated to the shoulders of Cobb and another, and from there spoke feelingly of the inception and growth of the checker's club, of the tournament and of the victory. Very few heard all that speech, for it was cheered incessantly and those at the edge of the crowd yelled, Who's the fellow that's talking? What do you do? It's Dewey. No, it's... At that moment someone started a song and by common impulse the students formed in line and began the circuit of the yard. Barkley, on the shoulders of the two riotous friends, leading the procession. The rice around they went, singing the college songs, cheering on every provocation, clasping arms and swinging ecstatically from side to side and raising such an uproar as the old college had not often heard. The most gorgeous bonfire since we won the boat race, panted his senior at the end of the parade, and the biggest celebration, but I'd like jolly well to know what it's for. Join hands was the cry and soon three rings of dancing, striding youths were circling the fire, their fantastic shadows leaping grotesquely across the front of the buildings. And just when the frolic was at its height and the fire was crackling more joyously than ever, just when the quiet winter stars were hearkening for the fiftieth time to the hoarse chairs in honor of Barkley, the dean and three professors walked into the circle of radiance, and the throne melted as if by magic, until Barkley, spectaculous, hatless, but exultant, was left standing alone by his bonfire. Ah, Mr. Barkley, said the dean pleasantly, will you kindly call on me to-morrow? I think we'll let the matter drop, said the dean next day, hiding a smile under an effected frown, if you will promise Mr. Barkley to indulge yourself in no more, ah, the dean's voice veiled him, and he swallowed spasmodically, twice, before he found it again, no more celebrations of victory. And Barkley, very remorseful and chastened this morning, promised and hurried off to his beloved Greek. Both Barkley and the Yale Checkers Club graduated from their respective universities the following spring, and consequently the Intercollegiate Checkers Association died. But although gone, it was not forgotten, and Barkley's bonfire is still spoken of as the most gorgeous thing that ever happened. End of Barkley's Bonfire by Ralph Henry Barber Black Tails in the Badlands Read for the Coffee Break Collection 27 Sports by Kevin S. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Black Tails in the Badlands One bright cold November day I started from a ranch on the little of Missouri in western Dakota with the set purpose of getting venison for the ever hungry cowboys. They depended solely upon me for their supply of fresh meat. And as for some time I had shot nothing, I had been the subject of disparaging comment for several days, and the foreman in particular suggested I should stay at home and kill a steer and not chase all the black tails into the next county. So I stole off this time with an almost guilty conscience and plunged it once into the dense brush of the river bottom. In the thicket I startled a Virginia deer but knew it to be one only by the waving salute of its white flag. I also passed a tree in one of the forks of which I had at another time found an old muzzle-loading rifle, rustic, worn and decaying, a whole history in itself and beyond that two hundred yards away an Indian skull with a neat round hole through the crown. The key off stage road crossed the river nearby and I found out that the place was the scene of the last Indian deviltry in this section. It was the old story. A man while looking for the stage horses was shot. A second, hearing the report, went out to see what it meant and was in turn killed while a third with perhaps a little more experience jumped on the only horse left at the station and fled for his life with half a dozen Indians in full cry and pursuit. I walked down along the old trail taken by the lucky fugitive and up out of the river valley to a level plateau above. From the top could be seen in the distance several big buttes and a dark pine tree which was to be my objective point for the day's hunt. To the right as I stepped briskly forward was a large washout cut deep into the clay soil, broken and irregular, with sagebrush scattered here and there along its sides and bottom. At the head of the washout I spied some yellow long horned Texas cattle and gave them a wide berth. I'd had some pleasing experiences of their habits and did not care just then to be stamped flat. To the left a few hundred yards away was a long valley leading to the river and far out into the prairie, wooded in patches, with small pockets and intervals along the sides filled with low brush. Here at other times I had jumped whitetails from their daytime naps and once had a running shot at a large prairie wolf. Bearing all this in mind I veered out toward the valley and had not gone far when I saw in the distance a black tailed buck come skipping out of it and moving with high long bounds as is the way of its kind when frightened or going at speed. These bounds by the way are very curious. The animal lands on all four feet at once in such a small area that a sombrero would cover the four footprints. On a few occasions when badly frightened I ve seen them run level like a racehorse but that gate is so unusual as hardly to be considered characteristic of this deer. The deer in question after a few long jumps settled down into a trot and into a walk and finally stopped and looked about. He did not see me however and when he again moved off there was a man jogging quietly along in his wake. Taking advantage of every little hollow to keep from his sight and make a spurt I soon reduced the distance between us and arrived at the further edge of the plateau just in time to see him disappear in some broken country. Continuing cautiously on to where I had last seen him it became apparent that he had determined upon some definite course for his tracks led as straight as the nature of the ground would permit. To what I knew was the head of a large coolly which led to the valley from which he had come into view. As the soil was very hard and dry and his tracks difficult to follow I soon determined to leave them and cut straight for the coolly below the point toward which he had been headed. Thinking it likely that he would continue his course down the coolly at least for a short distance I ought to be able to write that events turned out exactly as calculated but they did not. I ran with a fair burst of speed to the edge of the coolly and went after quietly watching for twenty minutes no deer appeared. My mind went back to the foreman's remark about killing a steer. However it remained for me to go up to the point where it was probable that Buck entered the coolly. I accordingly did so hunting every inch of the way and looking for sign and whatever else might turn up. I saw nothing however but two grouse that startled me as they always do but especially when my nerves as strung up as they were just then. What course the buck had taken was now the question doubling back to my old conclusion that he had gone straight. I went out of the coolly and followed on the line he had gone. At first it led over another small plateau then it dipped down again into some more bad lands cut up and broken with picturesque red scoria hills covered with straggling twisted cedar trees. At this time my ardor for this particular buck had begun to subside and he was now anybody's game. Being somewhat tired as well I climbed to the top of a round clay butte sat down and whited the pipe. I had been smoking for about ten minutes enjoying the mysteriously and thinking what course it would be best to take. When again my buck loomed up for a few seconds in the distance and once more walked quickly out of sight. This was a great surprise and pleasure and the pace at which I set out in pursuit would have rejoiced the heart of a messenger boy. I ran as fast as I could stopping to peer over every rise in the land it was soon rewarded by a most interesting sight. The buck had come upon another fully as large if not larger than himself and they were exchanging greetings across the small washout each extending his nose and smiling the other. They would sniff a minute and then turn their heads about flap the long gray ears and wiggle their short black tails acting as if they were old friends. It seems a great pity to shoot such noble creatures but unfortunately this thought rarely comes at the right time for the deer. Given a man having killed nothing for several days and mercifully guide by all the cowboys and in add to that a long and lively chase after constantly vanishing venison when then the man gets within shooting distance it is hardly at such a time that his kindly instincts will suggest the propriety of letting the poor beast escape. As for myself with every muscle and nerve at tension from an exciting chase and mind fairly satisfied of game well-earned it would have taken more self-denial than I pretend to possess not to shoot especially since we had been living on port for some time. When fresh meat is plentiful and camp it is to a real sportsman no sacrifice to let the doze and fawns escape or to shoot them merely with the deadly coat heck. But on this day the shack really had to have meat those lordly heads too. There is always a strong desire when one comes upon game to shoot at once but it is a good plan if possible to rest and get one's breathing apparatus into proper shape. It is most exasperating not to say cruel to wound a deer and have him get away and there is good chance of this happening if before your hand steadies in your head clears you began to open fire. From the direction of the wind it was quite evident that the deer could not set me so for some moments I lay watching the animals with lively interest in wondering what they would do next. They were apparently satisfied with an occasional sniff at one another but seemed at the same time to give their attention to something beyond my view. From my position of view where I had crawled with great caution nothing could be seen in either up or down a large wash out that was between me and the deer and I had poked my gun through a bunch of grass and was quite prepared to shoot. When the ears then the head and body of a large doe closely followed by a young buck and a yearling came into full view to say that I was surprised but faintly expresses it and for the time being all idea of shooting left me as I watched the keenest interest the advent of the newcomers. The old doe as if aware of her importance as the respected matron of a family walks sedately past the two bucks without bestowing the least attention upon them selected a grassy spot in the sun pivot around twice to level her bed and quietly settled to earth facing me. The young buck and yearling stood as if not quite decided whether to follow her example but finally began to nibble grass and walk about. Here indeed was a pretty picture an embarrassment of riches I thought it quite possible to get one big buck with the chance of a good running shot at the other and as there was no hurry and my gun was at a dead rest for the first shot at least I decided to shoot at the largest buck behind the ear and then trust to occasion for whatever should follow. I felt that excitement was again to get the upper hand and I am carefully several times before pulling trigger. At last after a sharp report the smoke blew directly in my face and for a second I could see nothing distinctly but when it cleared away and I had having pumped a cartridge into place was again prepared to shoot. What was my astonishment to find that the buck fired at had utterly disappeared and that the second far from being frightened was still standing with his throat down into the wash out that had been between them. Without further speculation I sighed it for the neck of buck number two and at the report he also disappeared but this time I made out that he fell over forward into the wash out. Everything was now a foot and moving about so taking a quick shot at the doe behind the shoulder and three more at the remaining two the last on the jump I realized by seeing them fall a big day's work and for the moment I was proud. It was not until afterward that the feeling came up that my glory would have been quite enough without killing the last three but then it must be remembered that we needed every pound of meat at the shack. The two big bucks had fallen into the wash out which was about six feet deep one directly on top of the other and it was beyond my strength without a horse and rope to pull them out. As it was I had to clean them in very uncomfortable quarters and not in manner. During November in the northern latitudes the sun is early to bed and it was four o'clock and getting gray when the last deer had been cared for. At dark I washed all trace of blood from my hands and arms in the river near the shack and strolled into the kitchen with as woe-begone accountants as I could muster. I intended to get even with foremen. A sardonic smile stole over his face and a disgust look over those of the sardines. They noticed my unstained hands. I remarked to the foremen that I had shot some game. He promptly replied, you didn't. If you had, you'd have been so proud you would be as red as a scoria butte with deer blood to show off. No such luck and as long as you and that thirty-eight caliber pop gun go wrestling around this country I reckon we'll eat pork and be glad to get it. To this I answered that if you would promise to pack in what game I'd killed and I would give him the hunting knife that he had been trying to steal for the last week. He instantly called into bargain and asked how far it was to the game. I answered that it was about five miles and that I would take him there in the morning. So next morning we started on horseback and I went far enough with him to point out exactly where the deer were and leaving him I rode over to call on a friend who had a small horse ranch in the neighborhood. I stayed at this horse ranch overnight and did not get back to our ranch until the following evening about supper time. It leaked out that the cowboys had fairly screened with delight when the truth was known and would rather have been discharged than help the foreman pack in the five deer. He did pack them however in good faith and both he and the cow punchers now that they had fresh meat spared me their jokes and for several days did not try to lend me their pitching ponies. Thus ended a most eventful hunt and although it was unquestionably a very exceptional piece of good luck to have killed five deer neatly still it is nonetheless a fact that with a .38 caliber rifle I've always done the best work. With a .50 caliber I've shot deer in their vital parts and then had them run great distances whereas with the smaller bullet when properly hit they would almost invariably double up on the spot. I can give no explanation that will help to determine why the smaller board rifle has always with me been the most efficient. End of Black Tales in the Badlands by Bronson Rumsey Casey at the Bat read for the Coffee Break Collection 27 Sports by William Jones Benita Springs, Florida. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Casey at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence Thayer yet looked extremely rocky for the Mudville Nine that day. The score stood four to six with just an inning left to play. And so when Cooney died at first and Burles did the same a power to breathe the features of the patrons of the game. A straggling few got up to go leaving there the rest with the hope that brings eternal within the human breast. For they thought if only Casey could get one whack at that they'd put up even money with Casey at the Bat. But Flynn preceded Casey and so like wise did Blake but the former was a pudding and the latter was a fake. So on the stricken multitude a deathlike silence set for there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the Bat. But Flynn let drive a single to the wonderment of all and the much despised Blakey tore the cover off the ball. And when the dust had lifted and they saw what had occurred there was Blakey safe on second and Flynn a hug and toyed. Then from the gladdened multitude went up a joyous yell it bounded from the mountain top and rattling the dale it struck upon the hillside and rebounded on to flat for Casey Mighty Casey was passing to the Bat. There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place there was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face and when responding to the cheers he lightly doffed his head no stranger in the crowd would doubt it was Casey at the Bat. Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt. Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt. Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip defiance glanced in Casey's eye a sneer curled Casey's lip. And now the leather covered sphere came hurbling through the air and Casey stood watching it in a hearty grandeur there close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheated sped that ain't my style said Casey strike one the umpire said from the benches black with people there went up a muffle roar like the beating of the storm waves on a stern and distant shore kill him kill the umpire shouted someone in to stand and it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand with a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shown he still the rising tumult he bade the game go on he signaled to the pitcher and once more the spheroid flew but Casey still ignored it and the umpire said strike two fraud cried the maddened thousands and the echo answered but the scornful look from Casey and the audience was odd they saw his face go stern and cold they saw his muscles strain and they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again the sneer is gone from Casey's lip his teeth are clenched with hate he pounds with cruel violence his bad upon the plate and now the pitcher holds the ball and now he lets it go and now there is shattered by the force of Casey's blow or somewhere in this favorite land where the sun is shiny bright the band is playing somewhere and somewhere hearts are light and somewhere men are laughing and somewhere children shout but there is no joy in Mudville Maddie Casey has struck end of Casey at the bat by Ernest Lawrence Thayer coursing The Prong Book by Theodore Roosevelt first published by Forest & Stream in 1901 read for Coffee Break Collection 27 Sports by Michelle Fry, Matt Mruge, Louisiana this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer, please visit Vox.org coursing The Prong Book The Prong Book is the most characteristic and distinctive of American game animals zoologically speaking its position is unique it is the only hollow horned ruminant which sheds its horns we speak of it as an antelope and it does of course represent on our prairies the antelopes of the old world and is a distant relative of theirs apart from all other horned animals its position in the natural world is almost as lonely as that of the giraffe the chase of the prong horn has always been to me very attractive but especially so when carried on by coursing it with greyhounds any man who has lived much in the cow country and has wandered about a good deal over the great plains is of course familiar with this gallant little beast and has probably had to rely upon it very frequently for the supply of fresh meat on my ranch it has always been the animal which yielded us most of the fresh meat we had in spring and summer of course at such times we killed only bucks and even these only when we positively needed the flesh in all its ways and habits the prong horn differs as much from deer and elk as from goat and sheep now that the buffalo has gone it is the only game really at home on the wide plains it is a striking looking little creature with its big bulging eyes single pronged horns and the sharply contrasted coloration of its coat this coat by the way being composed of curiously coarse and brittle hair in marked contrast to deer antelope never seek to elude observation all they care for is to be able to see themselves as they have good noses and wonderful eyes and as they live by preference where there is little cover shots at them are usually obtained only at far longer range than is the case with other game and yet as they are easily seen and often stand looking at the hunter just barely within very long rifle range they are always tempting their pursuer to the expenditure of cartridges more shots are wasted at antelope than at any other game they would be ever harder to secure were it not that they are subject to fits of panic folly or excessive curiosity which occasionally put them fairly at the mercy of the rifle bearing hunter pronged books are very fast runners indeed even faster than deer they vary greatly in speed however precisely as is the case with deer in fact I think that the average hunter makes all together two little account of this individual variation among different animals of the same kind under the same conditions deer and antelope vary in speed and wariness exactly as bears and cougars vary in cunning and ferocity when in perfect condition a full grown buck antelope from its strength and size is faster and more enduring than an old doe but a fat buck before the rut has begun will often be pulled down by a couple of good greyhounds much more speedily than a flying yearling or a two year old doe under favorable circumstances when the antelope was jumped nearby I have seen one overhauled and seized by a single first class greyhound and on the other hand I have more than once seen a prong horn run away from a whole pack of just as good dogs with a fair start and on good ground a thorough bred horse even though handicapped by the weight of a rider will run down an antelope but this is a feat which should rarely be attempted because such a race even when carried to a successful issue is productive of the utmost distress to the steed ordinary horses will sometimes run down an antelope which is slower than the average I had on my ranch an undersized old Indian pony named White Eye which when it was fairly roused showed a remarkable turn of speed and had great endurance one morning on the roundup when for some reason we did not work the cattle I actually ran down an antelope chase on this old pony it was a nursing doe and I came over the crest of a hill between 40 and 50 yards away from it as I wheeled to start back the old coyose pricked up his ears with great interest and the minute I gave him a sign was after it like a shot whether being a cow pony he started to run it just as if it were a calf or a yearling trying to break out of the herd or whether he was overcome by dim reminiscences of buffalo hunting in his Indian youth I know not at any rate after the doe he went and in a minute or two I found I was drawing up to it I had a revolver but of course I did not wish to kill her and so got my rope ready to try to take her alive she ran frantically but the old pony bending level to the ground kept up his racing loop and closed right in behind her as I came up she fairly bleated an expert with a rope would have captured her with at most ease but I missed sending the coil across her shoulders she again gave an agonized bleat or bark and wheeled around like a shot the cow pony stopped almost but not quite as fast as she got a slight start and it was some little time before I overhauled her again when I did I repeated the performance and this time when she wheeled she succeeded in getting on some ground where I went and I was thrown out I have done a good deal of coursing with greyhounds at one time or another but always with scratch packs the average frontiersman seems to have an inveterate and rooted objection to a dog with pure blood if he gets a greyhound his first thought is to cross it with something else whether a bull mastiff or a setter or a foxhound there are a few men who keep leashes of greyhounds of pure blood bread and change to antelope coursing and who do their coursing scientifically carrying the dogs out to the hunting grounds in wagons and exercising every care in the sport but these men are rare the average man who dwells where antelope are sufficiently abundant to make coursing a success simply follows the pursuit at odd moments with whatever long legged dogs he and his neighbors happen to have and his methods of coursing are apt to be as rough as his outfit my own coursing has been precisely of this character at different times I have had on my ranch one or two high class greyhounds and scotch deerhounds with which we have coursed deer and antelope as well as jack rabbits, foxes and coyotes and we have usually had with them one or two ordinary hounds and various half bread dogs I must add however that some of the latter were very good I can recall in particular one which ran nearly as fast as the former though it occasionally yelped in shrill tones it could also trail well and was thoroughly game and on one occasion it ran down and killed a coyote single handed on going out with these dogs I rarely chose a day when I was actually in need of fresh meat if this was the case I usually went alone with the rifle but if one or two other men were at the ranch and wanted a morning's fun we would often summon the dogs mount our horses and go trooping out to the antelope ground as there was a good deer country between the ranch bottom and the plains where we found the prong book it not infrequently happened that we had a chase after black tail or white tail on the way moreover when we got out to the ground before sighting antelope it frequently happened that the dogs would jump a jack rabbit or a fox all set would go after it streaking through the short grass sometimes catching a prey in a few hundred yards and sometimes having to run a mile or so in consequence by the time we reached the regular hunting grounds the dogs were apt to have lost a good deal of their freshness we would get them in behind the horses and creep cautiously along trying to find some solitary prong book in a suitable place where we could bring up the dogs from behind a hillock to find a fair start after it usually we failed to get the dogs near enough for a good start and in most cases their chases after unwounded prong book resulted in the quarry running clean away from them thus the odds were greatly against them but on the other hand we helped them wherever possible with the rifle we often rode well scouted out and if one of us put up an antelope or had a chance at one when driven by the dogs the pack were saved from the ill effects of total discouragement by so often getting these wounded beasts it was astonishing to see how fast an antelope with a broken leg can run if such a beast had a good start and especially if the dogs were tired it would often lead them a hard chase and the dogs would be utterly exhausted after it had been killed so that we would have to let them lie where they were for a long time before trying to lead them down to some stream bed if possible we carried water for them in canteens there were red-letter days however in which our dogs fairly ran down and killed antelope days when the weather was cool or when it happened that we got our dogs out to the ground without their being tired by previous runs and found our quarry soon and in favorable places for slipping the hounds I remember one such chase in particular we had at the time a mixed pack of one dog of my own the others being contributed from various sources it included two gray hounds a rough-coated deer hound a fox hound and the fawn-colored cross-bred mentioned above we rode out in the early morning the dogs trotting behind us and coming to a low tract of rolling hills just at the edge of the Great Prairie we separated and rode over the crest of the nearest ridge just as we topped it a fine buck leaped up from a hollow 100 yards off and turned to look at us for a moment all the dogs were instantly spinning towards him down the grassy slope he apparently saw those at the right and turning raced away from us in a diagonal line so that the left-hand gray hound which ran cunningly and tried to cut him off was very soon almost alongside he saw her however and she was a very fast bitch just in time and wheeling altered his course to the right as he reached the edge of the prairie this alteration nearly brought him in contact with the cross-bred which had obtained a rather poor start on the extreme right of the line a round went the buck again evidently panic-struck and puzzled to the last degree and started straight off across the prairie the dogs literally at his heels and we urging our horses with whip and spur but a couple of hundred yards behind for half a mile the pace was tremendous when one of the gray hounds made a spring at his ear but failing to make good his hold was thrown off however it halted the buck for a moment and made him turn quarter round and in a second the deer hound had seized him by the flank and thrown him and all the dogs piled on top never allowing him to rise later in the day we again put up a buck not far off at first it went slowly and the dogs hauled up on it but when they got pretty close it seemed to see them and letting itself out went clean away from them almost without effort once or twice we came upon bands of antelope and the hounds would immediately take after them I was always rather sorry for this however because the frightened animals as is generally the case when beasts are in a herd seemed to impede one another and the chase usually ended by the dog seizing a doe for it was of course impossible to direct them at any particular beast it will be seen that with us coursing was a homely sport nevertheless we had very good fun and I shall always have enjoyable memories of the rapid gallops across the prairie on the trail of the flying prong buck and of coursing the prong buck by Theodore Roosevelt a cricket bowler by Edward Krakraft LeFroy read for the Coffee Break Collection 27 Sports this is the LibriVox Recording all LibriVox Recording during the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org a cricket bowler two minutes rest till the next man goes in the tired arms lie with every single slack on the moan grass unbend the supple back and elbows up to make the leather-spin up the slow butt and round the unwary sheen in navish hands a most unkindly knack but no guile shelters under these boys black crisp hair frank eyes and honest English skin two minutes only conscious of a name the new man plants his weapon with profound long practice skill that no mere trick may scare not loth the rested lad resumes the game the flunk bowl takes one madding torches bound and the meat stamp three somersaults in air and of a cricket bowler by Edward Krakraft LeFroy the day of the race and the race from rowing by RC LeMann read for the Coffee Break Collection 27 Sports by Patrick Wallace this is a LibriVox Recording in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org the day of the race on this tremendous day towards which all their efforts for weeks past have been directed the coach will find that all his crew are suffering from that peculiar nervousness to which rowing men have given the name of the needle it is a complaint against which no length of experience can harden a man and the veteran of a hundred races will feel it as acutely as the boy who is engaged in his first struggle a sort of forced cheerfulness pervades the air men make irrelevant remarks about their oars their stretchers or the notorious incapacity of their rivals while they are reading the newspapers or discussing the politics of the day even a coach is seized with the universal affection however gallantly he may strive against it and endeavour to entertain the crew his best stories of triumph and victories of defeats averted by brilliant spurts or of the last sayings of some well-known aquatic humorists old oars drop in and for a few moments divert the conversation only to flow back with it into the one absorbing topic that occupies all men's minds the feeling goes on increasing until at last oh joy the time comes for getting into the boat with his faithful oar in his hand and his feet fixed to the stretcher a man regains his confidence and when the word is given he will find that the only effect that the needle has had upon him has been to brace its energies to their highest pitch the duty of a coach on such an occasion is clear he must try to keep his men cheerful and prevent them from brooding over the race that is to come visits from old oars should be encouraged for it is often a relief and an amusement to a youngster to find that some solid oar of the past is even more agitated than he is himself one thing must not be omitted and that is the preliminary spin which should take place about two hours before the race and should consist of two sharp starts of ten strokes each and one hard row of a minute this has an invaluable effect in clearing the wind I have always felt when I have rowed more than one race in a day and I think my experience will be confirmed by most other wasmen that I have been able to row better harder and with less distress in the second race than in the first an hour and a half before the race a man will be all the better for a biscuit and a hot cup of strong, neat soup with perhaps a dash of brandy to flavour it but this must depend upon the hour at which the race is rowed for if you have lunched at one and have to race at half past three you will want nothing between times to stay your stomach the early morning sprint should be taken as usual the race I shall say are you ready once if I receive no answer I shall say go it is the voice of the umpire addressing us from the steam launch in which he will follow the race he must be a man dead to war he must be capable of sympathy for he actually turns to one of his fellow passengers and makes a jesting remark while our hearts are palpitating and our minds are strung up to face the stern actualities of the race the other crew look very big and strong and fit and determined we shall have to row our hardest and we all know it get the top of your shorts properly tucked in, says our captain so as not to catch your thumbs and mind all of you the guy is in the boat and when Cox shouts for ten strokes let her have it come forward all touch a gently bow it is the Cox who speaks and his voice sounds thin and far away and dreamlike one more that'll do easy bow now we're strict are you ready from the umpire great heaven will he never let go he shouts there is a swish, a leap all of oars, a sense of something moving very swiftly alongside a turmoil of water a confused roar from the bank we are off we started splendidly for half a minute I am a mere machine thoughts, feelings, energies all are concentrated into one desire to work my hardest and to keep in time then my mind clears and I become conscious once more of myself and my surroundings and I must steal a look by Jupiter they're leaving us I live the boat for screams the Cox you're late be hanged the Cox he's got eyes like a lynx yes there's no doubt of it I can see without looking out of the boat out of the corner of my eye they're gaining still now their stroke is level with me now he has disappeared and for a few strokes I am conscious of a little demon Cox screaming and screeching alongside of me then he too draws away and their rudder is all I can see at last that also vanishes and a sense of desolation descends on us nearly two minutes must have gone I know that by the landmarks we have passed surely we ought to spur it what can stroke be up to is he going to let us be beaten without an effort what a shower bath that was it's six splashing as usual well if we're beaten we must just grin and bear it we shall have to congratulate the other ruffians hateful somebody must get beaten but we're not beaten yet hang it all three minutes what's this Cox is shouting now ten heart strokes together swing out in usual lengths he counts them out for us at the top of his voice grand we're simply flying that's something like it and I'm not a bit done yet we're none of us done the boat's going like smoke nine you're the Cox ten now don't slack off but keep on going you're gaining, you're gaining onto it all of you he is purple in the face and foaming at the mouth glorious their rudder comes back to me I see their Cox we are catching them now four it two strokes more and the boats are running dead level and so they continue for half a minute stroke has now however taken the measure of his foes we are steadying down and swinging longer and I am conscious that the other crew are rowing a faster stroke it is now our turn to leave them foot by foot we creep past them their bows come level with me and then slowly recede I can see the back of their bowman his Zephyr has come out from his shorts the back of his neck is very pale there can't be more than two minutes left now and I'm still fit and my wind is all right we are winning I'm sure of it oh they're spurting again and by Joe they're gaining spurt stroke spurt we mustn't get beaten on the post but stroke that weary old warrior knows what he's about unmistakable signs prove to him that this effort is the last desperate rally of his enemies he sees their boat lurch their time is becoming erratic two of them are rolling about in evident distress his own crew he has well in hand we are rowing as one man and he feels that he has only to give a sign and our restrained eagerness will blaze forth and carry us gloriously past the post let us wait he seems to say a very few seconds more until the opposing spurt fades out to its inevitable end so he rows on imperturbably but isn't he running it too fine not he he gives a quick word to Cox rattles his hands away and swings as if he meant to strike his face against the kelson of the boat bigger up all screams the Cox now then comes in a muffled gasp from the captain we feel that our moment has come and with a unanimous impulse we take up the spurt and spin the ship along in a flash we leave ahead we leave the other crew as if it was standing still we're a length ahead now we are clear half a length of open water divides us from them to all intents and purposes the race is over the crowd grows thicker the shouts from the bank become a deafening ding enthusiast's scream futile encouragement to pursuer and pursued and in another moment the flag is down the Cox cries and with triumph in our hearts we realize that we have won the captain turns round to us he is rowing number seven his face glowing with pleasure well rowed indeed you men he pants you all did thunder and well and as for you stroke but words fail him and all he can do is to clap his delighted stroke on the back then having duly exchanged the customary well rowed and its accompanying rattle of oars in rollocks with our gallant enemy we paddle home to the raft where our exultant coach in our perspiring partisans receive us with hand shakings and embraces and fervently epitomized stories of the struggle I knew you had got him all the way says the coach did you hear me shout when you got to the halfway point hear you shout we reply in a chorus careful ascent of course we did that's why we spurted of course we'd heard nothing but at this moment we almost think we did hear him plainly and in any case we are not going to be so churlish as to detract from anybody's joy over our victory and so the struggle is ended and we have won pleasant though it is to know that training is over there is not one of us who does not feel a sense of sorrow as he realizes that these days there is no boil and hardship and self restraint of glorious health and vigorous effort are passed all the little worries under which we chafed the discipline that at times was irksome the thirst, the fatigue, the exhaustion the recurrent disappointments all these become part of a delightful memory never again it may be shall these eight men strike the sounding furrows together the victory that has crowned us with honour has at the same time broken up our companionship of labour and endurance but it's splendid memory and the friendships it knit together these remain with us and are a part of our lives henceforth wherever we may be end of the day of the race and the race from rowing by RC Lehmann on dry cow fishing as a fine art by Rudyard Kipling published December 1890 read by Michelle Fry Baton Rouge, Louisiana for the Coffee Break Collection 27 Sports this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org on dry cow fishing as a fine art it must be clearly understood that we are not at all proud of this performance in Florida men sometimes hook and land on rod and tackle a little finer than a steam crane and chain a mackerel like fish called tarpon which sometimes run up to 120 pounds those men stuff their captures and exhibit them in glass cases and become puffed up on the Columbia River sturgeon of 150 pound weight are taken with the line fixed to the nearest pine tree or a steamboat wharf and after some hours or days the sturgeon surrenders himself if the pine or the line do not give way the owner of the line then states an oath that he has caught a sturgeon and he too becomes proud these things are mentioned to show how light a kreel will fill the soul of a man with vanity I am not proud it is nothing to me that I have hooked on a quarry all my desire is to place the little affair on record before the mists of memory breed the miasma of exaggeration the minnow cost 18 pence it was a beautiful quill minnow and the tackle manner said that it could be thrown as a fly he guaranteed further in respect to the triangles it glittered with triangles that if necessary the minnow would hold a horse and who speaks too much truth is just as offensive as a man who speaks too little nonetheless owing to the defective condition of the present law of liable the tackle maker's name must be withheld the minnow and I and the rod went down to a brook to attend to a small jack who lived between two clumps of flags in the most cramped swim that he could select as a proof that my intentions were strictly honorable he was using a light split cane rod very dangerous if the line runs through weeds but very satisfactory in clean water in as much as it keeps a steady strain on the fish and prevents him from taking liberties I had an old score against that jack he owed me too live bait already and I had reason to suspect him of coming upstream and interfering with a little bleak pool under a horse bridge which lay entirely beyond his sphere of legitimate influence observed therefore that my tackle and my motives pointed clearly to jack and jack alone though I knew that there were a monstrous big perch in the brook the minnow was thrown as a fly several times and owing to my peculiar and hitherto unpublished methods of fly throwing nearly six penny worth of the triangles came off either in my coat color or my thumb or the back of my hand fly fishing is a very gory amusement the jack was not interested in the minnow but towards twilight a boy opened a gate of the field and let in some twenty or thirty cows and half a dozen cart horses and they were all very much interested the horses galloped up and down the field and shook the banks but the cows walked solidly and breathed heavily as people breathe who appreciate the fine arts by this time I had given up all hope of catching my jack fairly but I wanted the live bait and bleak account settled before I went away even if I tore up the bottom of the brook just before I had quite made up my mind to borrow a tin of chloride of lime from the farmhouse another triangle had fixed itself in my fingers I made a cast which for pure skill exact judgment of distance and perfect coincidence of hand and eye and brain would have taken every prize at a bait casting tournament that was the first half of the cast the second was postponed because the quill minnow would not return to its proper place which was under the lobe of my left ear it had done thus before and I suppose it was in collision with a grass tuft till I turned around and saw a large red and white bald faced cow trying to rub what would be withers in a horse with her nose she looked at me reproachfully and her look set as plainly as words the season is too far advanced for gadflies what is this strange disease I replied Madam I must apologize for the unwarrantable liberty on the part of my minnow but if you will have the goodness to keep still until I can reel in we will adjust this little difficulty I reeled in very swiftly unconsciously but she would not wait she put her tail in the air and ran away it was a purely involuntary motion on my part I struck other anglers may contradict me but I firmly believe that if a man had foul hooked his best friend through the nose and that friend ran the man would strike by instinct I struck therefore and the reel began to sing just as merrily as though I had caught my jack but had it been a jack the minnow would have come away I told the tackle maker this much afterwards and he left and made illusions to the guarantee about holding a horse because it was a fat innocent she-cow that had done me no harm the minnow held held like an anchor fluke in coral moorings and I was forced to dance up and down an intermitable field very largely used by cattle it was like salmon fishing in a nightmare I took gigantic strides and every stride found me up to my knees in marsh but the cow seemed to skate along the squashy green by the brook to skim over the merrily backwaters and to float like a mist through the patches of rush that squirted black filth over my face sometimes we whirled through a mob of her friends there were no friends to help me and they looked scandalized and sometimes a young and frivolous cart horse would join in the chase for a few miles and kick solid pieces of mud into my eyes and through all the mud the milky smell of kind the rush and the smother I was aware of my own voice crying pussy pussy pussy pretty pussy come along then pussy cat you see it is so hard to speak to a cow properly and she would not listen no she would not listen then she stopped and the moon got up behind the pollards to tell the cows to lie down but they were all on their feet and they came trooping to sea and she said I haven't had my supper and I want to go to bed and please don't worry me and I said the matter has passed beyond any apology there are three courses open to you my dear lady if you'll have the common sense to walk up to my creel I'll get my knife and you shall have all the minnow or again if you'll let me move across to your near side instead of keeping me so coldly on your offside the thing will come away in one tweak I can't pull it out over your withers better still go to a post and rub it out dear it won't hurt much but if you think I'm going to lose my ride please you you are mistaken and she said I don't understand what you're saying I'm very, very unhappy and I said it's all your fault for trying to fish do you go to the nearest gate post you nice fat thing and rub it out for a moment I fancied she was taking my advice she ran away and I followed but all the other cows came with us in a bunch and I thought of Phaeton trying to drive the chariot of the sun and Texas cowboys killed by stampeding cattle and green grow the rushes and Solomon and Job and loosing the hounds of Orion and hooking beamoth and Wordsworth who talks about whirling around with stones and rocks and trees and here we go round the mulberry bush and Pippin Hill and Hey Diddle Diddle and most especially the top joint of God again she stopped but nowhere in the neighborhood of my knife and her sister stood moon face around her it seemed that she might now run towards me and I looked for a tree because cows are very different from salmon who only jump against the line and never molest the fisherman what followed was worse than any direct attack she began to buck jump to stand on her head and her tail to leap into the sky all four feet together and to dance on her hind legs it was so violent and improper so desperately un-ladylike that I was inclined to blush as one would blush at the sight of a prominent statesman sliding down a fire escape or a duchess chasing her cook with a skillet that flopsome abandon might go on all night in the lonely meadow among the mists and if it went on all night this was pure inspiration I might be able to worry through the fishing line with my teeth those who desire an entirely new sensation should chew with all their teeth and against time through the best waterproof silk line one end of which belongs to a mad cow dancing fairy rings in the moonlight at the same time keeping one end on the cow and the other on the top joint of the main rod she buck jumped and I bit on the slack just in front of the reel and I am in a position to state that that line was cord with steel wire throughout the particular section which I attacked this has been formally denied by the tackle maker which is not to be believed the weep of the broken line running through the rings told me that henceforth the cow and I might be strangers I had already bitten goodbye to some tooth or teeth but no price is too great for freedom of the soul madam I said the minnow and twenty feet of very superior line are your alimony without reservation for the wrong I have unwittingly done to you I express my sincere regret at the same time may I hope that nature the kindest of nurses will induce season she or one of her companions must have stepped on her spare end of the line in the dark for she bellowed wildly and ran away followed by all the cows I hoped the minnow was disengaged at last and before I went away looked at my watch fearing to find it nearly midnight my last cast for the jack was made at six twenty three p.m. there lacks still three and a half minutes of the half hour and I would have sworn that the moon was paling before the dawn seemingly someone were chasing day cows down to bottom but ten acre said the farmer that evening twasn't you sir now under what earthly circumstances do you suppose I should chase your cows I wasn't fishing for them was I then all the farmers family gave themselves up to jam smeared laughter for the rest of the evening because that was a rare and precious just and it was repeated for months and the fame of it spread from that farm to another and yet another at least three miles away and it will be used again for the benefit of visitors when the fresh it's come down in spring but to the greater establishment of my honor and glory I submit in print this bald statement of fact that I may not through forgetfulness be tempted later now how I hooked a bull on a Marlowe buzz how he ran up a tree and took to water and how I played him along the London road for 30 miles and gaffed him at Smithfield errors of this kind may creep in with the lapse of years and it is my ambition ever to be a worthy member of that fraternity who pride themselves on never deviating by one hair's breath from the absolute and literal end of on dry cow fishing as a fine art by Rudyard Kipling a football song by anonymous from the Sphinx University of Wisconsin read for the coffee break collection 27 sports this is the LibriVox recording all LibriVox recording during the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org a football song they talk of joy in fighting mid whistling shot and shell they rhyme of bliss in love sweet kiss a bliss that none can tell for ages they've been lilting the praise of ruby wine all joys most rare but none compare with tackling hind the line give me the football battle the captain signal call the rush that fills the heart with thrills the line that's like a wall give me the hard fought scrimmage the joy almost divine when like a rock we stand the shock and tackle hind the line the muse has long been singing the joy the half back fills when like a flash he makes a dash and shows the bench his heels his joy may be ecstatic it can't be more than mine the pile amid the pile I tackle hind the line to smash the interference fills me with heartfelt glee to make a lunge and stop a plunge is more than gold to me in running with a pigskin I now was known to shine but I can hew my way clear through and tackle hind the line there may be joys in heaven more tender and more tame but I don't care to go up there unless they play the game there's great irons down in Hades but even there I'd pine to be once more on this fair shore to tackle hind the line and of a football song by anonymous excerpt from the girls of central high at basketball by Gertrude W. Morrison published in 1914 read for the coffee break collection twenty seven sports this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org the girls of central high at basketball basketball is perhaps the most transparent medium for revealing certain angles of character in young girls at first the player seldom have anything more than a vague idea of the proper manner of throwing a ball or the direction in which it is to be thrown they all joke about a woman throwing a stone at a hand and breaking the pain of glass behind her will soon become a tasteless morsel under the tongue of the humorist girls in our great public schools are learning how to throw and basketball is one of the great helps to this end the woman of the coming generation is going to have to develop the same arm and shoulder muscles that man displays and will be able to throw a stone and hit the hen if necessary the girl beginner at basketball usually has little idea of direction in throwing the ball nor indeed does she seem to distinguish fairly at first between her opponents and her teammates her only idea is to try to propel the ball in the direction of the goal the thought that by passing it from one to another of her teammates she will much more likely see it land safely in the basket never seemingly enters her mind but once a girl has learned to observe and understand the position and function of teammates and opponents to consider the chances of the game in relation to the score and bearing these in mind can form a judgment as to where most advantageous play and act quickly on it when she has learned to repress her hysterical excitement and play quietly instead of boisterously what is it she has gained it is self evident that she has won something beside the mere ability to play basketball she has learned to control her emotions to a degree at least through the dictates of her mind blind impulse has been supplanted by intelligence indeed she has gained without doubt a balance of mind and character that will work for good not only to herself but to others indeed it is the following out of the old fact the uncontrovertible fact of education that what one learns at school is not so valuable as is the fact that he learns how to learn playing basketball seriously will help the girl player to control her emotions and her mind in far higher and more important matters than athletics to see these 18 girls in their places alert unhurried watchful and silent was not alone a pleasing but an inspiring sight Laura and her teammates Roberta waited like veterans for the referee to throw the ball Laura and her opposing jumping center were on the key VV muscles taught and scarcely breathing suddenly the ball went up Laura sprang for it and felt her palms against the big ball instantly she passed it to Jess Morse and within the next few seconds the ball was in play all over the back field mostly in the hands of central high girls they played hard but nobody not even Roberta played badly these high girls were strong opponents and more than once it looked as though the ball would be carried by them into a goal however on each occasion some brilliant play by a central high girl brought it back toward the basket and finally after six and a half minutes the visiting team made a goal the central high girls were one point ahead the ball went in at center again and there was a quick interchange of plays between the teams suddenly while the ball was flying through the air toward East High's basket the referee's whistle sounded followed she declared just as the ball popped into the basket a murmur arose from the East High team Madeleine spink the captain said quietly but the goal counts for us not Miss Lawrence it counts as a goal from a fall replied the referee which means that it is no goal at all and the ball is in play these high girls were more than a little disturbed by the decision it was a nice point for on occasion a goal thrown from the fall line counts one it broke up for the minute the better play of the East High team and since the central high girls got the ball they rushed it for a goal there was great excitement at this point in the game if central high won two clean points it would hardly be possible for East High to recover and gain the lead once more Laura signaled her players from time to time but she was hampered whenever the ball came near Roberta or the time was ripe for a masked play the substitute did not know the secret signals had Hester Grimes only been in her place her absence crowded the central high team slowly to the wall in the very moment of success when a clean goal was about to be made they failed and their opponents got the ball again it was passed from hand to hand one girl bounced the ball and a fall was called again the central highs rushed it and from the fall line made another goal two points ahead and the boys in the audience cheered madly no harder fought battle had ever been played upon that court shoot it over Jess cried Chet at one point rising and waving to his particular girlfriend madly look out they'll get you look out Laura don't let them get you ah that's too bad grumbled Lance Darby quite as interested in the work of Chet's sister on the court no fair polling say where's the referee's eyes demanded Chet the next moment in disgust behind her glasses said his chum I never did believe four eyes were as good as two the ball came back to center again and there was little delay before it was put in play only three minutes remained the 18 girls were as eager as they could be Madeline spink and her teammates were determined to tie the score at least a clean goal would do it they rushed to play and carried the ball into Roberta's country Roberta never had a chance in a moment the ball was hurtling toward the proper East High girl and no guarding could save it a cheer from the audience those interested in the East High girls announced another clean goal the score was tied in two minutes to play do not delay the game young ladies they were scoring the referee they were in position again and the ball was thrown up every girl was playing for all that there was in her a single point would decide the rivalry of the two schools at the beginning of the playing season to lead off with this first game would encourage either team immeasurably East High let off first but quickly Laura and her teammates got the ball again there was no rough play the umpires as well as the referee watched sharply it was a sturdy vigorous but fair game this was a time when Hester's hot temper might have brought the team disgrace and for a moment Laura was after all glad that the delinquent had gone home then suddenly from full field and a fair position the ball rose and flew directly for the basket while in midair the whistle was blown time was called and the game was ended the spectators as well as the players held their breath and watched the flying ball although the whistle had blown the goal if the ball settled into the basket would count for the visiting team this one unfinished play would give the girls of Central High two clear points in the lead if all went well the purse of the flying ball was watched by all eyes therefore Chet Belding and his mates began their chant believing that the ball was sure to go true to the basket but they began too soon the ball hit the ring of the basket hovered a moment over it and then fell back and rolled into the court Chet's chant of praise changed to a groan over and it was a tie disappointed as the girls of Central High were they cheered their opponents nobly and the East High girls cheered them the audience had to admit that the game had been keenly fought and after Hester was put out of it as cleanly as a basketball game had ever been played on those grounds end of an excerpt from the girls of Central High at Basketball by Gertrude W. Morrison published in 1914 Observations on Fencing by Thomas Griffiths recorded for the Coffee Break Collection 27 Sports by Newgate Novelist this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Observations on Fencing by Thomas Griffiths one never put yourself on guard within reach of your adversary's thrust more especially at the time of drawing your sword two be not affected, negligent nor stiff three be not angry at receiving a touch and take care to avoid it four do not think yourself expert but hope you may become so five be not vain of the hits you give nor show contempt to those you receive six do not endeavour to give many thrusts on the lunge running the risk of receiving one in the interim and it is wrong to deliver a second hit to the lunge if you are certain you made a hit the first time seven when you present the foils to a stranger give the choice without pressing eight if you are much inferior make no long assaults nine do nothing that is useless every movement should tend to your advantage ten judge of a thrust rather by reason than by its success eleven let your play be made as much as possible within the line of your adversary's body twelve it is not enough that the parts of your body agree that is that you are supple, firm and vigorous they must also answer to your adversary's movements thirteen endeavour to discover your adversary's designs and conceal your own fourteen two skillful men fencing together act more with their heads than their hands fifteen the smaller you make your faints the quicker will your point arrive at your adversary's body sixteen do not take the time thrust too frequently unless your adversary is much your inferior and that you are not likely to be hit at the same time seventeen if one hit the body and the other the face or elsewhere at the same time the hit on the body only is counted eighteen if in binding, parrying or by any means your adversary's foil falls the hit that is made in the interval is good because you are not obliged to know that he will lose the grasp of it but if the hit is made after you see the foil is out of his hand you cannot reckon it but in politeness you should pick up his foil and present it to him nineteen never attempt to hit your adversary while thrusting cart and tears in the salute unless by mutual agreement and it is a proper civility in saluting to ask the adversary to thrust first twenty be sure at no time while fencing with a skillful man to attempt to vault, disarm etc these are ridiculous things only taught by the ignorant and often attended with danger twenty one never deny a hit twenty two do not laugh nor ridicule another's manner of taking his lessons twenty three never make use of the left arm nor turn your back to avoid being hit on the chest twenty four always join foils if possible after a hit is made previous to another attack no to Bene never use the foils without having the mask on end of observations on fencing by Thomas Griffiths Robinson's off break by E.B.V. Christian read for the coffee break collection twenty seven sports by Kevin S. this is a LibriVox recording while LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Robinson's off break I suppose there was no more popular cricketer in all Surrey than Jack Robinson from Halsmere to Croydon from Redhill to Virginia Water and he had played on every green in Heath in the county he seemed to have nothing to do but play cricket and though he never appeared at the oval he had dealt out destruction to the batsman everywhere else he was a plucky hard hitting batsman in a good field anywhere but his most notable quality was his off break his balls would whip back a yard at top pace and on his day no one could stand against him he had brought victory to the Farley Green Club more times than we as old rivals of the Farley Green men cared to remember yet he was so good a fellow that a batsman after his third duck's egg bore no malice you can imagine the dismay at Farley Green and the mixture of congratulations and regret in our village when we heard that Robinson had accepted some business appointment in a cricketless settlement in the South Seas I said goodbye to him one January day it was less than two months afterward that we heard that his ship had gone down with all hands that everyone said was a wretched end for so good a cricketer was a miserable business but we little thought how far off the end really was or how much trouble that off break was yet to cause us it was when Robinson's will became known that the excitement began the news of his death was so well authenticated that the court at once presumed his death and his relatives were about to obtain probing his bats and bags and other cricket materials he had left amongst those of us who had known him best his belongings of greater pecuniary value were given to various relatives but the clause in the will which concerned us most was this and I give and bequeath my off break together with my pace pitch and all other things necessary with full use and enjoyment of the said off break to my friend John Robinson Brown of Wohners in the county of Surrey free of duty and I expressed the wish but so that no precatory or other trust is to be implied in respect of the bequest hereby made that he will make use of the said off break for the benefit of the Farley Green Cricket Club of which we are both members now this we strongly objected to we were deeply sorry Robinson was gone but we didn't see why as he was gone his off break should remain to injure us still we felt it would be ungracious to dispute the will and so far as we were concerned Brown might have enjoyed his legacy unquestioned but the Galdaming men thought otherwise they entered a caveat and a suit was commenced in the probate court to establish the will the first difficulty was to determine what was to be done with the off break and the rest of the estate while the suit was pending the writ was issued in March and clearly the case could not come on for trial till after the long vacation the whole cricket season would be gone before a decision could be obtained for these legal umpires and black towns take longer to make up their minds than our umpires and white coats do clearly poor Robinson's estate must be managed by someone meanwhile so the plaintiff appealed to the court to appoint a receiver at first the Galdaming men meant to oppose the application but in the court I went down out of curiosity to hear the application made I happened to meet Harvey the Galdaming captain in a few minutes conversation quite altered the defendant's tactics when the motion was reached the council for the Galdaming men said he was quite agreed that the defendant must be appointed the only question was who was the most proper person for the post he suggested Mr. Wilson of Farley Green one of the plaintiffs to whom the defendants felt there could be no objection the plaintiff's council not seeing through this sudden change of front accepted the suggestion I don't think Wilson who was the crack batsman of Farley Green realized the awful consequences of that appointment it was a really good batsman as all our bowlers knew from sad experience until he was appointed by the court this order was made in May and Wilson had just started the season with a not out innings of 60 when he was thus appointed administrator Pindente Litte and receiver of the off break after that for two months in 14 matches and 17 innings Wilson did not make 10 runs his luck was lamentable the most ordinary bowler could get him out playing looking balls whipped back from the off and beat him a man who had never been known to break a ball an inch could when bowling to Wilson make the ball come back a yard Farley Green did not win a match for Wilson's failure and the loss of Robinson demoralized the rest Wilson got so accustomed to balls coming in from the off that he tried standing in front of his wicket like before he tried to pull but that stroke was foreign to his correct style he hid out wildly and skyed the ball on the off every time at last he realized the spell that was on him he was receiver of the off break all the damage that Robinson used to do was now done to him once he had realized this he acted promptly and in a week he had resigned his post the question was then what was to be done no one would accept the appointment Wilson's ill luck and the explanation of it had become known throughout the county and no one else was willing to risk a similar experience eventually the judge ordered the off break to be deposited in court with the title deeds to the other property and there it remained till the trial at least it was supposed to remain there what I heard tales of the wonderful bowling performances of a member of the civil service CC who had not hitherto been distinguished I inquired and found he was a clerk in the principal probate registry and I thought I understood what had happened no dust would have accumulated on Robinson's disputed request however that was no affair of mine what I could not understand was the failure of some farly green bowler to accept the vacant receivership of course neither Wilson or any other batsman should have accepted the office but a bowler could have made good use of that break but it was not for me to suggest this our return match with Farley Green was coming on and I did not want Robinson's ghost to spoil our averages the case came on for trial in November Farley Green had not had so bad a season for 20 years and I don't think that even Brown the legatee should look for with much pleasure to the result but I'm bound to admit that the defense the Galdamming men set up was shabby they alleged that the will had been obtained by the undue influence which Brown exercised over poor Robinson what in your own words was the nature of the influence exercised over Mr. Robinson asked the plaintiff's counsel it was two folds said Harvey Mr. Brown was umpiring once or twice when Robinson the testator was bowling and I used to think his decisions favored the bowler in what way well he has given me leg before to a ball that pitched outside the stumps you were out leg before Wicket then yes and you were not satisfied I think I was not out Mr. Harvey tell me this did you ever think you were out in that way poor Harvey being on oath of course had to admit he never did think so now can you tell me the name of a man who was ever satisfied in such circumstances Harvey thought he could but it turned out that he only knew of a man who had admitted he was out after the umpire had decided in his favor and he made a lot of run subsequently his lordship looked at the jury and smiled now tell me Mr. Harvey what were the other means by which you say undue influence was exerted I think it was shown in the desire that the off break should be used for the Farley Club poor Robinson used to belong to a lot of clubs he often played for us at God Dalmy and I never noticed that he himself kept his break for the Farley Club only but he was a leading member of the Farley Green CC yes and specially interested in its fortunes possibly after that of course there was something that we found for the plaintiff without retiring and the court pronounced in favor of the will but the season was over and Farley Green had not had much benefit from the legacy next season of course we expected them to take their revenge but for a time things went worse than ever in Brown, poor Brown I was really sorry for him that wretched legacy ruined his average Brown was a left-handed bowler with a curl from the leg and the two breaks never amalgamated whether the break had been allowed to get damp in court after the season was over or whatever the cause it never seemed to work properly in Brown's hands he pitched to the off the off break was absent and his own curl from leg made the ball wide if he pitched a leg intending the ball to come in round the batsman's legs then Robinson's off break unexpectedly acted and the batsman got a safe and easy boundary we used to chafe Brown and advise him to get the break repaired but the poor fellow was so depressed about it that we soon ceased to talk in this way and at the end of June he had almost decided to give up bowling then a strange thing happened we're playing the peace like men on our heat when a bronze stranger was noticed peeping from behind the tent he had tattoo marks on his face and hands and he had grown a beard otherwise he was unchanged or of course it was Robinson he had a wonderful tale to tell of shipwrecks and adventures melees and missionaries but that as has been remarked is another story the great thing was here was Robinson back again and I was using his favorite bat and Johnson for old acquaintances say had put on Robinson's pads and his off break that unlucky off break here we were in June and Robinson was thirsting for a game and of course as he was not dead he wanted his off break and his other belongings back again but it took him seven months to satisfy the court that he was entitled to have them by that time the off break had become quite useless so he has gone in for batting and makes ten times as many runs as he used to but his bowling is quite gone and the most annoying thing is that he had to pay 87 pounds legacy duty to get that off break back from brown and of Robinson's off break by EBV Christian the Olympic Games from Bailey's magazine of sports and pastimes January to June 1906 read for the Coffee Break collection 27 Sports by Patrick Wallace this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.com The Olympic Games International encounters in sport as in most else are rarely attended with perfect success and the second great meeting of the revival of the classic games at Athens has furnished no exception to the rule for such was the number of entries that competitors suffered considerable discomfort in the matter of hotel accommodation as to the sport itself while the sport itself as to the sport itself whilst the British team cannot be said to have acquitted themselves badly one must candidly confess that more was expected from them that America should win the 100 and 400 meters was generally anticipated as it sent out a peculiarly strong team which had the advantage of a manager trainer and doctor and had possibly the most complete organisation accepting perhaps that of the Swedes left a country to defend that country's honour and pride the 100 meters race they did win in a good time of 11 seconds by Hahn America with Molton America and Barker Australia 3rd but that even with Lightbody America's present 1.5 mile champion magnificent runner as he is they should win the 800 and 1500 meters was open to the greatest doubt even in the regrettable moments of Hortree owing to a swollen ankle the result of his great 5 mile race it was thought that Crab and Halswell in the former and Crab and McGough in the latter were capable enough of beating our overseas cousins who at long distance events are proverbially weak yet none of these were sufficiently good to hold Lightbody and Pilgrim the former of whom won the 1500 meters in 4 minutes 12 seconds whilst both of these men put up such a splendid race that Pilgrim who had previously beaten Halswell in the 400 meters in 53 seconds only gained the verdict on the tape by a breast in two minutes 1.5 seconds Halswell who does not seem so good at a half as a quarter was 3rd and Crab 4th whilst the latter in the mile could do no better than 5th McGough taking pride of place for Britain with 2nd this race was completely thrown away and McGough not showing to the front and making the pace for the 4 American representatives ran the race as they pleased and Lightbody approved faster than McGough in the straight the 5 miles provided us with our only athletic victory and in this Hortrey showed what a strong runner he is as making the pace all the way he finished little the worse for the journey in the good time of 26 minutes 11 seconds perhaps one should chronicle as an English victory as a British one the win of sharing of Canada in the Marathon Road Race this the great event of the meeting was looked on by the Greeks as of the supremist importance for 10 years ago it was won for them by Louis their kinsmen and they felt quietly confident of repeating that success however sharing who had been training on the road for 7 weeks ran superbly and after 12 miles out and in consequence he almost walked for the last 5 miles his time showed what a great performance it was being returned as 2 hours 51 minutes 23 seconds beating Louis time of 10 years ago by over 3 and a half minutes being of athletic build he is an ideal man for the journey weighing but 9 stone 4 pounds and he finished remarkably strongly whereas a heavy man like daily was in a woe be gone condition foot sore, weary and in a complete state of collapse 8 miles from home where he retired being taken with several others to the hospital there which was soon in a crowded condition as very few of the competitors got beyond this point the performance of Svanberg a swede who ran second to Hortree in the 5 mile race was excellent he being but 7 minutes behind the winner and Frank the American who would have stood a better chance but for forcing the pace at the commencement when it was made inexcusably hot third, 2 minutes later the 3 first places in the marathon cycle race were gained by Frenchmen whilst Britain won the tandem by Matthews and Russian the 12 and a half miles through Pett and secured second in the mile and lap against time by the aid of Crowther and in the 1000 meters with Baufler these last 2 men found their master in Verri of Italy a rider of immense pluck and resource Leakey won the high jump with 5 foot 11 inches and was second to O'Connor in the hot skippin jump with 13 meters 98 the latter's jump was 14 meters 7 and a half but he completely failed in the long jump and had to be content with second place to Princeton of America the walking race was rather a fiasco owing to disqualifications Wilkinson our representative was the first to go and ended in a win for Bonhug of America whilst a beautiful walker in Linden of Canada was second the 110 meter hurdle race fell to leave it of America in 16 seconds with Healy second though if the first race which was unfortunately stopped by some official had been permitted Healy whose damaged foot was paining him badly would probably have won in swimming we won the mile through Taylor with Jarvis second and in fencing the Englishman were exceedingly unfortunate and only robbed of a victory after redraw by the strange award of the jury Max de Coudlis for France won the tennis singles and with his wife the mixed doubles whilst Gouday also credited his country with first position for a capital pole jump of 11 feet 4 inches the great success for the Greeks was the putting the stone won by Georgantus Sheridan America won the disc of throwing freestyle with approximately 137 feet beating his own record and Jervinum Finland the restricted style 35 meters 70 end of the Olympic Games from Bailey's magazine of sports and pastimes January to June 1906 origin of the Olympic Games by James Edward Sullivan a fragment of the Olympic Games at Athens 1906 read for the Coffee Break Collection 27 sports by Piotr Natter this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org origin of the Olympic Games the origin of the games the origin of the games recedes into the mythical ages the Greeks reverenced Hercules as their founder not the hero usually known by that name but the idea on Hercules who was said to have been present at the birth of Zeus himself the later Hercules however also took part in some famous contests here after the defeat of King Ogius in Alice Enomaus, king of Pisa the old capital of the district his daughter, Hippodamea to compete with him in chariot racing and ignominiously put to death all whom he vanquished until at length Pelops succeeded in beating him and so won the hand of Hippodamea Pelops was thus the heroic prototype of the victors of Olympia and as such was held in high honor there the actual founding of the games proper is ascribed to Iphitos of Alice who along with Lycurgos of Sparta reorganized the games at the bidding of the Oracle of Delphi in the 9th century B.C. introduced the Echeheria literally hand staying or truce or peace of the god among all the states of Greece during the celebration of the games Pozanias saw the decree inscribed on the Discus of Bronze preserved in the Heureon by this means the Olympian games rose to the dignity of a national festival which was the visible expression of Hellenic unity in spite of all the interracial contentions of course among the individual states of Greece the regular chronicle of Olympian victors begins in B.C. 776 but the use of Olympia as chronological epochs did not originate till much later the games took place after the first full moon after the summer solstice at the beginning of the sacred month the aliens who had been left in undisturbed possession of the sanctuary since about B.C. 580 sent heralds to proclaim the universal peace throughout all Greece the competitors and spectators of the festival streamed in from far and near the larger states represented by embassies Theorie which were sometimes of great magnificence the function lasted for five days the central point was a series of great sacrifices to Zeus and other gods under the solemn management of priests some of whom dwelt continuously at Olympia the sacrifices were accompanied by athletic contest of the most varied description foot races, hurling the discus wrestling, boxing, chariot races etc carried on under the direction of the Helanojike judges of the helens who were at the same time the highest political body in Elis the original and most important event in the games was the foot race in the stadium at first one length of the course but afterwards two or more in the 18th Olympiad B.C. 708 the lifelong or five-fold contest was introduced a combination of leaping, hurling the discus running, wrestling and boxing so arranged that only the victors in the first contest could compete in the latter and that the final contest should be a boxing match between the two best competitors in the 25th Olympiad B.C. 680 was held the first chariot race with four horses in the 33rd Olympiad the first horse race took place and the pancreation a combination of wrestling and boxing was introduced subsequently special competitions for boys in most of these sports were arranged and in the 65th Olympiad B.C. 520 the hoplito dromos or soldiers race in heavy marching order was added the competitions were restricted to freeborn Greeks of unstained character though barbarians might be spectators women with the exception of the alien priestess of Demeter were not permitted to view the sports before the contest the competitors had to appear in the Bolluterion in presence of Zeus Horkios and take an oath that they had undergone the prescribed ten months course of training and would obey the Olympiad laws and regulations of the games they then entered the stadium by a special entrance with the Hela Nodike the heralds announcing the name and country of the athlete as he appeared the palmos handed to the victor immediately after the contest the prize is proper simple branches from the sacred olive tree planted by Hercules himself were distributed at the end of the games to all the victors at the same time the Greeks attached the most extraordinary value to the Olympic olive branch Pindar had celebrated it in a spirited song its acquisition was not only a lifelong distinction for the winners but reflected also the best honor on their families and on their states and their countrymen used to testify their gratitude by triumphal receptions banquets at the public expense and often by exemption from taxes in Olympia itself the champions dwelled at the public expense in the Prita Neon and had the right of erecting a statue in the altis which in the case of a triple victory was allowed to bear the features of the victor besides these statues the first of which were erected in wood about the 60th Olympiad BC 540 numerous votive offerings were presented by states and individuals so that in the course of centuries there arose that forest of statues the description of which even after it had been several times plundered by the Romans fills nearly an entire book in Pozanias in addition to the athletes men illustrious in the intellectual sphere also sometimes appeared with their performances Herodotus is said to have read in public at Olympia a portion of his historical work and so to have fired the youthful to Sidides who was present to the composition of his history celebrated authors like Gorgias or Lysius addressed the people from the Opistodomos of the Temple of Zeus as did the Sophist Hippias of Aelis and others painters exhibited their works here it was here also that Stemistocles enjoyed his greatest triumph when at his appearance in the stadium probably in the 77th Olympiad BC 472 the assembled Greeks greeted the hero of Salamis with shouts of applause at a later date Plato was also received here with honour by the admiring multitude the Olympic games attained their zenith in the period after the Persian wars and the contemporary struggles of the Sicilian Greeks against the Carthaginians as Hellenic influence extended to the east the contingents from the Asiatic states and from Egypt as well as those from Macedonia and Thrace grew larger and larger in the Roman period we find champions hailing from all parts of the empire and even two emperors Tiberius and Nero on victories here Greece proper on the other hand became less and less conspicuous professional athletes appeared and travelling from one to another the Olympic Games athletic meetings succeeded in degrading the Olympic victory to a trade the regular celebration of the Olympic Games seems to have died out in the 4th century AD the emperor Theodosius finally suppressed them in 394 for translations and extracts the publishers of Marys Greece and the official Olympic book edited by C.P. Lambros are respectfully given credits and of origin of the Olympic Games by James Edward Sullivan