ing

endly boxing match or wrestling bout. The boys are ch

stripped. The referee reads the rules to them. They are cautioned against

they are wrestling according to Graeco-Roman methods or catch-as-catch-can, and decide it must be a mixture of both. After

, all over the mat, first one, then the other having the advantage. They begin to show signs of b

r men probably they would be throwing each other over their shoulders, but, being boys, they can't do that. The last round is

plendid types of young manhood. They stand on the mat measuring each other with

y understand that he wants no nonsense. "Go ahead," h

s on. This is genuine, dyed-in-the-wool sport, this is, and

hat did you let him get away with that for?" These an

er fellow, to tell him just what to do and how to do it! But wha

men appointed for that task. As soon as they are rested, they stand up, for all the world like a pair of young bucks in the sp

. It is first one then the other, until one is dizzy watching them. Such beautiful holds! such daring! such a muscular exh

of the chaps, watching his chance, puts the other down

drop when the wrestling was on, but no, we had not. There was the sweetest d

bout; light weight gloves strapped on, the mat removed, the y

t the end of the first round it was only by

ether they were fighting with Queensbury rules or plain Johnson tactics. Just having the time of their lives, it was nip and tuck with them, all around the ring;

p for the pleasure of

d two bosom friends come together and try to get the best of each other? That was the thought uppermost in every one's mind. Well, they did, fought like little men, a square, game fight, eac

musing ourselves beside the

can sit contented, making one and a half moves during the e

content, jumping his men and crowning a man king witho

forward up and down, sweeping all the poor little men he finds in his way into the discard. He seems to forget the time when he was only a little man himself. How like live

d away! New games may come and new games will go, when we are tired of them, but our plea

hen I was young. What a hurry and flurry to cover with bits of glass the numbers

ollege song and the fun begins. All the old time and all the new songs. Among

who can't sing and wants to; never mind, when one is young everythi

only feathered night prowler who will not keep quiet is the owl, who persists in joi

amusements to while away the

ifferent nature, but those I w

do so much." It is that way every evening. We plan to do all sorts of things, but what

quickly, plan for another day's fun and frolic; then the bugler blows "Taps" and once more we wrap our