Part 5

We lived at the foot of the Capitol, within a stone's-throw of the Roman Forum, around which clusters so much of legend and history. The nursery window overlooked the Capitol garden, where two wolves were always stalking restlessly about in their cages. Before our twins knew a word of English, and almost as soon as they could lisp in sweet Italian accents, they heard the tale of Romulus and Remus, and knew that the great city of Rome honored this legend by keeping two live wolves at the Capitol.

When they grew older and walked through the ancient streets, they became familiar with the picture of the babes and the wolf as seen on sign-boards and placards, as well as in marble and bronze reliefs. Thus the old legend grew into their lives, and they talked it over in wise baby fashion. Whenever they went to play hide-and-seek around the statue of Marcus Aurelius, in the Capitol square, they stopped long before the poor old caged wolves, and wondered why two wolves were kept, if Remus had to be killed for his bad behavior. Once they suggested to nurse that one wolf and two babies would seem more true to history; but when she replied that they would do splendidly for the babies, they dropped the subject, lest the city fathers hear of it in some way, and feel inclined to carry out so brilliant an idea.

In their own logical way, they were quite decided as to the place where Remus, in derision, jumped over the city wall, for it would be very easy to leap a certain low point up near the Macao, where they once went to see King Humbert review his troops in honor of the German Emperor's visit to Rome.

Of course mother wrote to America about the twins' sayings and doings, and one day they received a letter from the auntie whom they had never seen. She wrote that she had a globe of goldfish, and each fish had a name, except two tiny ones, which she would leave for them to name and to own when they came to see her in the spring.

The twins were very sober over this serious matter, though they did not even discuss the names, but from the start called their fish Romulus and Remus. When spring came, mother left for America with her five-year-olds, who stood the travelling well, and were made much of in the old home where mother spent her girlhood.

True to her promise, auntie gave them the fish in a tiny globe, and they would sit on the floor watching the goldies by the hour. It was a source of regret that they had no means of telling which was which, but one day they came pitching up stairs, too excited to speak plainly, "Oh, mother! we've 'scovered Remus, 'cause he jumped over." Sure enough, there lay the poor fish gasping on the floor, and although we put him back in the water immediately, he hobbled around for days with a broken fin, and moved stiffly ever afterwards.

With the autumn we prepared to journey Romeward, and sad good-byes were said. Everybody was in tears except the twins, and as we started for the train they appeared with the precious goldfish. Here was a dilemma! Mother said firmly that she could not possibly go all the way to Rome with more than one pair of twins. Grief and dismay made their eyes brim over, and uncle said: "Let's keep some dry eyes in this party. I'll bring the fish to the station." He brought them in a little tin pail with holes in the cover for air, and in this style Romulus and Remus set forth on their wanderings. The sleeping-car porter looked on them with a friendly eye, and thus we arrived safely in New York, where we went aboard a Mediterranean steamer bound for Naples. Mother left the twins with their pail in a safe place on deck, while she looked after the baggage. They were gone when she returned, and rather frightened, she rushed to her state-room, where she was still more startled to find the Captain stooping over something on the floor. He rose and spoke courteously, "I beg your pardon, madam, but I found the children and their Romans on deck. I am a Roman myself, and I will give orders that no one of this quartette lack for anything on my ship." Thanks to the Captain's patriotism, we had a most comfortable voyage as we steamed across the Atlantic and past Gibraltar, through the beautiful Mediterranean. The eyes of the twins opened wide when they reached Naples and saw the fires of Vesuvius, but in the hurry to reach Rome we drove straight to the railway station. As we stood in the long line of people who were pushing and crowding to the train, some impatient traveller jostled the pail so that poor Romulus and Remus wriggled on the stone floor. Mother almost abandoned them to their fate, but a porter was quick-witted enough to clap them into the pail and rush off for fresh water. He returned in time to hand them through the train window to their beaming owners, and with an eye to further reward he brought a bottle of water also. There is no water on Italian trains, and but for this happy thought the fish would have perished during the seven hours by rail to Rome. The swaying motion of the train was far worse than that of the steamer, and mother and twins were kept busy filling the pail as fast as the water splashed out. By-and-by we rolled into the Roman station, and father was so glad to see his loved ones that he declared he felt like eating the whole party, fish included.

Thus the little American goldfish came to live in the shadow of the Roman Capitol, in sight of their wolfish namesakes. Every visitor heard the story of their adventures, and one sympathetic listener brought them a new globe with two dear little bronze wolves in the bottom; but, alas! their stay on classic soil was brief. During the long sea-voyage they had lost their bright golden hue, and wore rather a pale, silvery look, so that the twins became anxious about the health of their pets. A fish-dealer said that goldfish thrive best when fed with the wafers used for taking medicine. Half a wafer was dropped in for their supper, but next morning poor Romulus and the wafer floated on the water together. The twins were inconsolable, till mother organized a grand funeral procession to the flat house-top, where Romulus was buried in state under a peach-tree which mother had grown in a packing-box from a seed brought from her American home.

Remus lived on alone without the luxury of wafers, for the fishman, when interviewed by the tearful twins, said that Romulus died of over-eating, since wafers are mince pie and plum-pudding to goldfish, who are such gluttons that they can be trusted with but a pin-point of their favorite dish. The tragic end of Romulus was forgotten in the joys of Christmas-time, when the twins showed some little Italian friends their first Christmas tree, for they know nothing of Santa Claus in Rome, but receive gifts from an old woman called Befana. She comes at Epiphany, when there is also a procession up the 124 marble steps that lead to the Ara Coeli Church, in which there is a "presepio," or representation of the infant Christ in the manger. The nursery window overlooked these steps, and just underneath was a fine array of toys and sweets to tempt the Roman children, who go every year to recite poetry before the "presepio." The twins spent the morning watching the crowd and driving an occasional bargain with the toy-seller beneath their window. They borrowed the servant's basket, which she lets down with a string, Roman fashion, when she hears the postman's knock and does not want to go down the long stairway to the _portone_, or big street door, to receive letters. They sent down pennies in the basket, and drew it up with the desired plaything, until lunch called them from their fascinating employment. Poor lonely Remus was set in the window to enjoy the fun, but on their return the globe was tenantless. The toy-woman below saw the dismayed little faces peeping over the window sill, and called up to say that she had picked up a dead fish on the cold marble step. The basket went down once more, and was drawn up slowly and sadly with poor Remus's body.

We buried him, too, under the peach-tree on the house-top, and set up the little bronze wolves for a double monument; but the twins have never wanted any more goldfish. They write their own letters now, and seal them with a tiny stamp of the Roman wolves; but to this day they bemoan the fact that while Remus met rather a historic fate, their favorite Romulus died a glutton. But father comforts them by saying that those "noble Romans" were very fond of good things, and their fish no doubt followed the example of many another Roman citizen.

To continue the subject of aquatics, which the Department took up last week, let us turn to the art of diving. Before learning to dive, the beginner should accustom himself to keep his head under water as long as he can hold his breath, and he should practise opening the eyes under water in order to become used to the appearance of things below the surface. Diving, even more than swimming, demands that a boy or man should have confidence in himself. Nobody should attempt to learn how to dive when alone; even more than when learning to swim, he should have some one near at hand in case help is needed.

To learn how to dive, the beginner should first squat down on the edge of the float or spring-board from which he is to plunge into the water, holding his hands out before him just as he does in the breast stroke in swimming (described in this Department last week)--that is, with the arms extended, the hands horizontal, and the fingers close together, the thumb tips and the forefinger tips touching one another. Then he should allow himself to tumble forward into the water, striking with his hands first. The eyes must be kept closed when plunging into the water, and should not be opened until after the head is immersed.

It is very dangerous to plunge into the water with the eyes open, and a number of people have been blinded by so doing. Always duck the chin a little in toward the breast just before the head strikes the water. As soon as the body has entered the water the hands should be bent back and the head raised to an upright position. The bending back of the hands sends the body upward toward the surface again. As I have said, the first trials at diving should be mere drops into the water off the edge of the float from a sitting position.

After the beginner has learned to do this he should lean from the waist over (as shown by the dotted lines in Fig. 6), and likewise fall forward. When he has mastered this method he may stand upright, as shown by the figure drawn in heavy lines in Fig. 6, and as also shown in the photographic illustration No. 1.

The accompanying series of pictures illustrating the dive in detail are made from instantaneous photographs of Professor Gus Sundstrom. They show, in No. 1, the upright pose of the body just before taking the plunge. The diver stands upright on a spring-board or on the edge of a float, with the arms held stiff to the sides, the chest well filled with air so as to give buoyancy to the body, and the eyes resting on about that spot in the water where he expects to plunge below the surface.

The diver then raises his arms before him, the palms downward, not held closely together like an arrow-point--a position assumed by many divers who do not know the correct way. He then allows his body to fall forward, bending his knees and giving a slight spring with his legs. As the body rises in the air the arms are gradually lifted, until, when the body is about to enter the water, it lies practically in a straight line from toes to fingers. Fig. 6 shows very clearly what happens as soon as a man plunges into the water and turns his palms upward. The body describes a sort of arc under water, and the head comes to the surface about six feet from the point where it entered.

The whole science of diving depends upon the spring taken before leaping into the water--that is, the diver should be careful to give enough spring to throw his body sufficiently forward to give the legs time to follow a curve, otherwise the body will fall flat on the water, and this might result in serious injury to the performer.

The high dive is different from the low dive only in that a run is taken, instead of plunging into the water from a standstill. Of course in this case the spring is greater, the body goes higher into the air, describing a greater arc, and dives deeper under the water, unless some effort is made to prevent. This effort is very simple, and consists of bending the hands back as aforesaid, in throwing the chest back, and in bending the legs back.

If the intention of the diver is to sink to the bottom of the stream or pool, to pick up something, for instance, he should not perform any of these motions, but allow his body to go unrestrained. To rise again from the bottom, keep the hands well below the shoulders, and work the feet as when treading water. The body will thus come to the surface very quickly.

As was said last week, the fastest way to swim on the breast is to use the over-hand stroke. It is the most common stroke in racing, both for long distances and short distances. But in order to acquire speed in swimming, one must practise considerably and maintain a certain kind of more or less strict training. The swimmer needs plenty of sleep. He should go to bed not later than 10.30 every night, and should rise early. He should then take a very light breakfast--a glass of milk and a piece of toast, for instance--and take a walk of a mile or so.

When he comes home he should exercise with light dumbbells and rub down with a coarse towel. Then he should take a more solid breakfast, consisting of coffee, eggs, and steak. An hour or so afterwards he should go for another walk, this time of from five to ten miles, and every now and then during this promenade he should sprint from 50 to 100 yards. This sprinting limbers the legs, which is necessary for the swimmer.

Punching the bag is another good exercise, and of course a certain amount of swimming should be done, though it is not necessary by any means to swim every day. Mr. Arthur T. Kenney, the champion amateur swimmer of America, swims only three times a week, and manages, in that way, to keep himself in first-rate condition. He believes in keeping the muscles pliant and in preventing them from becoming hard. Therefore it is well for the swimmer not to indulge in much rowing, for that is the exercise which hardens the muscles of the arms.

It goes without saying that when training for a race the swimming should be done in a stream or lake, and not in a tank in-doors, for the open air is much better to exercise in than the close air of the tank or gymnasium. Young swimmers should practise short swims in order to develop a speedy stroke, and not attempt long distances until they have acquired the leg action necessary for racing. Short swims of 50 or 100 yards are the best distances.

Furthermore, it should be remembered that fast and hard work should not be attempted before the body has been gotten into perfect condition, otherwise the swimmer becomes overwearied, and is unable to perform the work which he otherwise could.

It is only natural to suppose that any one who expects to enter a swimming race has been swimming enough during the summer to be in fair condition. Therefore if he follows the course of training briefly described above for about a week--which is Mr. Kenney's method, and has made him the champion of American amateurs--he will then be in condition to work systematically in the water.

As in every other kind of athletic sport, a swimmer must give the greatest attention to form. Do not allow yourself to be carried away by the desire to acquire speed, but try so to master the action of the arms and legs that presently they will work almost automatically, and perform to the best advantage for the expenditure of energy. It is well to swim half the distance of the race about three times a week, but no more, and after this has been done for about two weeks it will be noticed that the action of the body has become much easier, and that speed has increased. Then a certain amount of time should be devoted to the practice of starting.

A start in a swimming race is very much like the action of a standing broad jump; it is a spring from a mark. The proper attitude to assume at the starting-line is to have the legs bent, the arms held back, the body leaning forward just as far as equilibrium will allow. As soon as the pistol is fired, or the word to start is given, swing the arms forward, and spring with all the strength of your legs as far out into the water as possible. Pay no attention to the other competitors, and do not look forward into the course, but give all your thoughts to making a long leap. This start should be a low dive (what swimmers call a "skip-jack"), and the head should be brought to the surface as quickly as possible by taking a stroke under water.

An important thing to remember is to have the arms in position to take a strong, steady stroke as soon as the head comes above the surface. It will require a great deal of practice to master all these details of the start, and therefore it is advisable to practise these things on the intermediate days of swimming. For instance, swim half your distance one day, practise starting the next, and then swim half your distance the next day, and so on.

After coming out of the water the swimmer should be well rubbed down with a coarse towel, and he should, if possible, have somebody to knead his muscles, for this sort of massage helps greatly to limber the tissues.

The football season will open in the colleges in a very few weeks, and the schools will follow their elders shortly afterwards. The question of summer training for football-players has been more or less mooted for the past few years. I believe that the best opinion among athletes is that for young players it is not advisable to try to get into training much before September. The summer is intended for recreation and not for work, and sport is a pastime, not a business.

Those college-men who set to work in August, gathering at the training-table a month before the term opens, are making a business of football. They are devoting their energies to the sport for the sake of winning, and not for the pleasure they get from playing. And this sort of thing is bad for athletics, and bad for that particular branch of athletics which becomes the victim of summer training. Nevertheless, there are cases where a little preliminary thought and work may be of service--I mean especially with captains of teams, or with half-backs and quarter-backs, who have the ambition to make their school or college teams, but who feel that they have not had enough experience as yet to feel sure that their work in the fall will assure them of the place.

It is a very different thing if an individual, or two individuals, at their homes in the country, choose to kick a football over an improvised goal-post, or choose, two or three times a week, to go out on the grass and fall on the ball, or to go out in the road and run a few miles to improve their wind. It is a different thing from getting eleven men together for concerted work. In fact, it is well for the amateur sportsmen who recognize their own weaknesses to try to remedy them at home in the early fall. This is not making a business of sport--it is rather developing a healthy interest and ambition.

Captains of teams, as I have said before, can spend several weeks prior to the opening of the school term in reading and learning the rules of the game, and in planning out plays and tricks which they think can be effective against their opponents. The captain of a school team has usually played one year or more on his school's eleven, and is consequently more or less familiar with the style of play of the other schools in his league; and by giving thought to the work as he has seen it performed by each one of his rivals, he may very well be able to develop some sort of counter-strategy which shall prove most effective later in the season.

Recognizing the fact that the school captains all over the country will probably wish to be giving some consideration to the new season from now on, this Department will shortly begin a series of four papers on the science of football, and on this game as it is to be played this year, illustrating the text with photographs and diagrams. But before we begin with the theory of the game, it will probably be well to touch lightly upon training and practice.

Let us assume that the majority of school teams will be getting together toward the end of September. At that season of the year, especially after a long summer vacation, in which, if there has been any exercise taken at all, it has been exercise of an entirely different kind from football, most of the players will be soft, and their muscles will need hardening. During the first few days practice should not exceed more than twenty-five minutes at a stretch. It should consist of dropping on the ball, and of snapping the ball back from the centre to the quarter, and of passes from the half-backs to the full-back and to one another. A little running, for wind, is also advisable.

The running should not be of the long-distance kind to begin with, but sprinting, and very short sprints at that. A good way is to line the whole team up across the field, and to have them sprint to the 25-yard line. This might be done twice a day--once at the beginning of the practice, and once at the end. As the days go by, the second sprint can be lengthened, until the men are required to run as far as the 50-yard line, and a week or so later they should be made to run the entire length of the field.

Where it is possible, the players should return home from the field on which they have been practising at a swinging trot, and upon reaching their various rooms they should bathe and rub down so as to avoid stiffness resulting from the new exercise. It ought not to be necessary for me to say that football-players, and especially young football-players, should make a point of getting to bed early--before ten o'clock, if possible--and of rising regularly in the morning.

After this preliminary work has been going on for a week or two, more serious practice can be undertaken. The candidates should be divided into squads, the centres and quarter-backs, the half-backs and the line-men working together. Practice may now be kept up for three-quarters of an hour each afternoon, the backs, of course, devoting themselves to punting and catching, whereas the line-men work at breaking through, and at tackling, and at falling on the ball. Not more than half of the time devoted to practice should be spent in playing the game itself; but in that time, when the two teams, the first and the scrub, are opposed to one another in regular football array, they should play as hard and as carefully as if they were indulging in a contest with some strong rival.

On alternate days the scrub team should keep the ball in its possession constantly, in order that the first team may get practice in defensive play. On the other days the first team should hold the ball, in order to develop the strategy of offensive work. It is also well, as the season grows older, to have the regular half-backs play on the scrub team, in order that the rush-line players of the first team may have the advantage of playing against the best backs their schools can turn out.

H. P. BOARDMAN, BURLINGTON, VT.--You can get the information you ask for in Zimmerman's book on bicycling. Any dealer in sporting goods can secure the book for you.

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THE GRADUATE.