in fact. And then three or four other hats, including the glossy
castor of Joe Willis, the self-elected and would-be champion of
the neighbourhood, a well-to-do young butcher of twenty-eight or
thereabouts, and a great strapping fellow, with his full allowance of
bluster. This is a capital show of gamesters, considering the amount
of the prize; so, while they are picking their sticks and drawing their
lots, I think I must tell you, as shortly as I can, how the noble old
game of back-sword is played; for it is sadly gone out of late, even in
the Vale, and maybe you have never seen it.

The weapon is a good stout ash stick with a large basket handle, heavier
and somewhat shorter than a common single-stick. The players are called
"old gamesters"--why, I can't tell you--and their object is simply
to break one another's heads; for the moment that blood runs an inch
anywhere above the eyebrow, the old gamester to whom it belongs is
beaten, and has to stop. A very slight blow with the sticks will fetch
blood, so that it is by no means a punishing pastime, if the men don't
play on purpose and savagely at the body and arms of their adversaries.
The old gamester going into action only takes off his hat and coat, and
arms himself with a stick; he then loops the fingers of his left hand in
a handkerchief or strap, which he fastens round his left leg, measuring
the length, so that when he draws it tight with his left elbow in the
air, that elbow shall just reach as high as his crown. Thus you see, so
long as he chooses to keep his left elbow up, regardless of cuts, he
has a perfect guard for the left side of his head. Then he advances his
right hand above and in front of his head, holding his stick across, so
that its point projects an inch or two over his left elbow; and thus
his whole head is completely guarded, and he faces his man armed in like
manner; and they stand some three feet apart, often nearer, and feint,
and strike, and return at one another's heads, until one cries "hold,"