Ed. James

About the first recognized legitimate contest of this kind was originated by Sir John Astley, a Crimean veteran and general athlete, giving a valuable gold and silver belt, open to the world, to the one who should cover the greatest distance, in whatever way he chose, unassisted, on his legs, for a period of six days. Long distance feats were not in themselves new, by any means, Capt. Barclay, Foster Powell, George Wilson, and others in auld lang syne figured conspicuously in England and Scotland, their journeys being traveled out of doors, on the roads, similar to the long walks of Weston, Sergeant Bates, Wm. Gale, and others. The athletic mania, which had lain dormant for so many years, was suddenly revived in this country, and spread like an epidemic far and wide, bringing with it a healthy reaction. The saloons and viler resorts began to lose caste for the running and walking match. Street cars and stages, and elevated railways complained of lack of patronage on fine days, as old and young, rich and poor, fell into the walking rage, and amateur spurts from home to place of business and vice versa became visible on every few blocks. Even the working girls caught the health imparting habit, and stepped out as jauntily and with as much snap as your La Chappelle or Fannie Edwards. Dailies, weeklies and monthlies saw increased interest and patronage by devoting space to athletics, while Beecher, Talmage, Moody, and other lesser lights mixed athletics up with their dogmas, until at the present time it is the fashion, and with us style is everything. True, druggists, doctors and undertakers found their business falling off, but we are candid enough to admit feeling pleased at this state of things, as, from being looked upon as a nation of tobacco-chewing, nervous, dried-up, money worshipers, experience has proved that Americans now, instead of following, take the lead in everything worth speaking about.

BASE BALL.

CELEBRITIES.

1. J. M. Ward, Pitcher.	2. Ed. N. Williamson, 3d Base.	3. Fred. Dunlap, 2d Base.
4. Jas. O’Rourke, Right-field.	5. Geo. Wright, Short-stop.	6. P. A. Hines, Centre-field.
7. Joe Start, 1st Base.	8. Chas. N. Snyder, Catcher.	9. Joseph Hornung, Left-field.

It is not every boy or man who will make a Rowell, an O’Leary, a Blower Brown, a Frank Hart, or whoever happens to be the head of the class when this meets the reader’s eye—neither must a young lady expect to become a Madame Anderson, a May Marshall, or a Von Berg. Both sexes can, if they have the will, in time, accomplish what now seems an utter impossibility. Does any one suppose that Daniel O’Leary walked his square heel-and-toe contests, Madame Anderson her great accomplishments, Captain Webb his swimming across the English Channel, Ed. Hanlan conquering all the world as an oarsman, by saying “I can’t,” and making no further effort? To become adept at anything, perseverance is the keystone, as “Little by little great oaks from small acorns grow,” and constant dripping even wears stones away, so that “if at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try again.” If necessary, commence by walking only a block at a time, Madame Anderson used to tell her lady admirers, increasing to two, four, eight, and so on, doubling and doubling until it will be found as easy to go miles as it was before the length of a single row of houses. Youth is the best time for practice, and the smallest, sickliest looking boy or girl will, with one or two companions, manage to cover an amount of ground that would make ordinary grown-up people very much inclined to doubt, and very loth to attempt. The youth has ambition in this direction, not having yet got into politics, money worshiping or being addicted to chewing, smoking, drinking, etc., which to many men are considered absolutely necessary. A party of boys with jackets on their arms will walk and run eight or ten miles, on a Fourth of July day, cutting up, prattling away, whistling or singing, with no other refreshment than a little water or fruit. They fix upon a certain place to go to, may be an orchard, or to hunt bird’s nests, or to a place to swim, row or fish, and get there, whereas a man or party of men, unless conveyed straight to the spot, would probably consume half a dozen lagers at least, and smoke as many bad cigars, pipesfull of strong tobacco, or chew a paper of so-called solace. We have tried both, and found out we could travel twice the distance on a few oranges or a mouthful or two of spring water, a biscuit or sandwich, than all the lager or tobacco taken in our life.

Presuming the individual to be in good health, the walks, trots, or runs must be gradual at first, and increased daily, not exactly in the order laid down in previous chapters, for the six-day business is more a trial of endurance than speed. It is not necessary to measure the distance between meals, but keep on the go until pretty well tired, rest at intervals, then buckle to again. The “Rowell trot” won him the belt and drew a $50,000 gate, his share the first time he came to New York, after all expenses being over $20,000. It has been proved beyond all argument that trotting or running beats walking, and when once acquired the dog trot will come as easy to a man (if not easier) as a fast walking gait. In practicing long-distance running, style is nothing—wind and freshness everything—let your arms, therefore, swing easy which ever way comes most natural, as the legs are the motors for this kind of work. Neither attempt long or short strides, no matter what your gait, clumsy or otherwise, for it is the distance to be got over that will land you a winner, not your shape or traveling on your “pretty,” however people may criticise. An old car-horse will keep up the same jog-trot nearly all day apparently undistressed, while a terrible three-mile dash at full speed will perhaps use the fast horse up. It was not natural for the car-horse to go that gait at first, but he was broke to it, and men are pretty much like horses in this respect, except that they can endure more in the long run. You will doubtless have “bellows to mend,” stitches in your side, etc., but stick it out and they will not come again probably twice the same day. A short stick, easy-fitting clothes, light head cover, well-seasoned and easy fitting laced-up shoes, seamless, woolen stockings, and a cheerful companion are all necessary. If troubled with sore feet the pedestrian should follow Dr. Parks’ advice to the British Army, viz.: Before setting out dip the feet for a minute or two in very hot water, wipe them quite dry, and then rub them with soap (soft soap is best) till there is a good lather; then put on the stockings. If, notwithstanding, they are yet foot-sore, at the end of the day wipe the feet with a damp cloth, and rub them with a mixture of tallow and spirits of wine. Besides this, great attention should be paid to the stockings, which should be constantly washed. Worsted and merino stockings are preferable to cotton ones.

If thirsty, one or two oranges will quench that, and be most agreeable to the stomach, as well as being of more benefit than anything else. When in-doors, light dumb-bells and the skipping-rope may be used vigorously to improve the wind, but nothing heavy or too violent, as in this branch of athletics the muscles to be controlled are those of the legs instead of the arms; change of flannels, socks, shoes, a salt water sponge-bath, rub down; then apply a little bay rum, mouth rinsed out, and a pleasant chat with a friend will make you feel like a new man, and after meals, before alluded to, ready and willing to tackle hard work again. If the pedestrian’s appetite falls off, whether from nervousness, sleeplessness or whatever causes, a preparation of iron and gentian may be taken, say a teaspoonful about ten minutes before eating, until his natural appetite returns, when it should be discontinued. If, on the other hand, the food taken does not digest readily, and symptoms of dyspepsia follow eating, then a tablespoonful of wine of pepsin a quarter of an hour after meals will soon bring that trouble over, discontinuing when it does. When sickness at the stomach succeeds, a tablespoonful of prepared lime water, taken in a little milk, when the feeling comes on, acts like a charm. When the bowels are lax, thickened flour and milk are good. If costive, rhubarb preserves, or prune tea, or a mild injection of soap and warm water will be found to answer every purpose.

Some enterprising Knight of St. Crispin, with a view to increase their trade by working on the feelings of pedestrians and others, introduced the old-fashioned piece of steel under the instep, between the welt and the sole, and designated them spring walking-shoes, for which there used to be quite a demand. Experience, however, has proved that the only spring likely to lead to the winning-post is what nature gave, and that all artificial appendages are more likely to do harm than good. The shoe best adapted for a walker of from one to ten miles is a low-cut shoe, laced nearly to the toe, with low heel, broad instep and plenty of room for the toes, and light as possible and of the best seasoned leather. Ordinary shoemakers can no more make professional running or walking shoes than an ordinary blacksmith can turn out a razor or set of chicken-gaffs, and, therefore, the business should be entrusted to those who make a specialty of it.

The most successful and tractable of modern pedestrians, Charles Rowell, has made more money in his two six-days’ contests in New York than he would have in fifty years at a trade or in his own country. Here we are carried away with almost anything of an international character, both press and public. When Rowell made his 500 miles in the first visit and 524 on his second, it was generally conceded that he performed the distance on the square, and hence the patronage bestowed. Other six-day contests have been given with nearly 40 more miles tacked on to the winner ahead of Rowell’s time by the black-board, but the receipts were as quarters to dollars in comparison. There appears to be a weakness for figures not altogether warranted by the financial results at the end of the week.

To all, therefore, who compete in long distances for love or money, do not worry about the score, but keep ahead all the time. A gain of ten miles on the first day, when honestly made, and with the intention of staying on the track through the competition, will be pretty sure to find the leader far enough ahead to carry off the lion’s share, for, as the veteran Jack Goulding’s logic proves, if there is a dollar at the end of every mile it is surprising how many miles a man will go. The practice of the crack flyers competing on the first day, with no idea of going the week more by preconcert, may suit the betting ring and the book-makers, but it has hurt the business more than can ever be patched up again by the most adroit, self-interested parties.

In addition to Rowell, Brown, Hazael and others have been brought out, but they either went wrong or could not be managed by their trainers. Self-reliance is very well, but an ungovernable temper or dissipated habits are sure to be left behind when opposed to tractability and abstemiousness. The English peds used to say there were lots of better men than Rowell over there, but John Astley knew he was unapproachable and as honest as they make them, and, whether the best or not, he carried off the belt against all competitors.

The advantage of an intelligent, capable trainer cannot be over-estimated, and, one who can satisfy his protege of his superiority in his business, as well as a man of nerve, is what is required. When Dan Donnelly, the champion pugilist of Ireland, was trained by Capt. Kelly for his fight with George Cooper, he was in magnificent condition, but when he met Tom Oliver, having had men to look after him whom he considered only his equal or perhaps inferior, he was in no condition at all. We are of the opinion that John Ennis but for James Cusick would never have got second place to Rowell, or Nick Murphy, Steve Brodie, Hart, Panchot, etc., made the time they did but for men of superior qualification.

It will be interesting to the young athletes to know the length of time taken for rest by the six-day men, and therefore supply this information so as to be easy of reference. We allude to the contest from April 5th to 10th, 1880, inclusive: Hart, 23 hours 2 minutes 59 seconds; Pegram, 31 hours 30 minutes 53 seconds; Howard, 30 hours, 50 minutes 39 seconds; Dobler, 22 hours 37 minutes 12 seconds; Allen, 34 hours 24 minutes 49 seconds; Krohne, 27 hours 18 minutes 15 seconds; Williams, 28 hours 52 minutes 33 seconds, and Hanwaker, 27 hours 58 minutes 21 seconds. Hart’s actual time on the course was 118 hours 20 minutes and 1 second, and his average walk in that time was at the rate of 4 7-10 miles per hour.

Rowell’s regular food when on a six-days march is beefsteak, chops, bread, vegetables, tea and coffee; occasionally he takes a little pudding and cheese. Guyon feeds on beef tea, chops, potatoes, toast, tea and coffee, but no stimulants. Weston, beef tea, custard, lime water and tea, beefsteak and no stimulants. Ennis, oatmeal, beef tea, rare beef and oysters. Hazael, chops, steaks, crackers, toast and lemon soda. Merritt feeds on jellies, fruits, beef, mutton and vegetables, with tea and coffee. Hart eats chops, chopped eggs, toast, corn bread, tea and coffee.