"And what did you say to console him, Edward?" inquired Julia warmly.

"What--me? Console my senior, and my Stroke? No, thank you."

At this thunderbolt of etiquette both ladies kept their countenances this
was _their_ muscular feat that day--and the racing for the sculls came
on: six competitors. two Cambridge, three Oxford, one London. The three
heats furnished but one good race, a sharp contest between a Cambridge
man and Hardie, ending in favour of the latter; the Londoner walked away
from his opponent Sir Imperturbable's competitor was impetuous, and ran
into him in the first hundred yards; Sir I. consenting calmly. The
umpire, appealed to on the spot, decided that it was a foul, Mr. Dodd
being in his own water. He walked over the course, and explained the
matter to his sister, who delivered her mind thus--

"Oh! if races are to be won by going slower than the other, we may shine
yet: _only,_ I call it Cheating, not Racing."

He smiled unmoved; she gave her scarf the irony twist, and they all went
to dinner. The business recommenced with a race between a London boat and
the winner' of yesterday's heat, Cambridge. Here the truth of Edward's
remark appeared. The Cambridge boat was too light for the men, and kept
burying her hose; the London craft, under a heavy crew, floated like a
cork. The Londoners soon found out their advantage, and, overrating it,
steered into their opponents water prematurely, inn spite of a warning
voice from the bank. Cambridge saw, and cracked on for a foul; and for
about a minute it was anybody's race. But the Londoners pulled gallantly,
and just scraped clear ahead. This peril escaped, they kept their backs
straight and a clear lead to the finish. Cambridge followed a few feet in
their wake, pulling wonderfully fast to the end, but a trifle out of