An Autobiography of an Ancient Athlete & Antiquarian

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 43 In the spring I tried walking again and walked respectably at a L.A.C. meeting, having gained on Ansell for over a mile, 7.35, but came to pieces, suffering from sleeplessness which chloral rather aggravated. I never got my form back,my best mile being 7.17 at Lillie Bridge(twice). During the year 1876 I either kept no diary or lost it. The year was chiefly memorable to me for another long midnight walk with Inman from Putney round Windsor in the summer. It is a strange coincidence that both of my chief competitor~ in these long walks afterwards committed suicide. My son, Arthur Lockyer Rye, was born on 18th January, 1876. On the 20th November, after a long day at the L-A.C. I had a long night-walk from Putney round Epsom Grand Stand and back with Charlie Talbot, G. A. Bolton, and E. C. Otter, starting at 12-45 by doing eight hours on a bitter cold night, sq dark that when we got on the Downs we could not see the Grand Stand. Early in June I travelled with the English team, who went to meet an Irish team at Dublin, on 5th June, 1876. We had a rough time crossing, several of our team were very nervous, so I was put forward as a sort of professional buffoon to keep them in spirits. We put up at the "Gresham," and enlivened the waverers with a series of practical jokes, played chiefly on Winthrop, the "gentle giant," who was to represent England in the weight– putting and tug-of-war. I affected to doubt his being in proper condition and having previously slipped a gravy spoon up my leg, just below the knee, got him to try H his muscle was as bard as mine. 'l hen we also thought Slade might beat him in the tug-of-war, and be apparently did so, for he was placed next the door and about half a dozen hug on to the end of the rope till the "giant'' was tired out. How we got him to believe that be bad insulted bis future opponent Daly-how a mythical Daly was supposed to be hunting him for revenge half the night-how he apologised tor a sin of which he bad never been guilty-is old athletic history, as is the presentation in a carefully closed packing case of a most artistic "testimonial" when be won the tug-of-war for us, is unfit for publication. As it was we won eight out of nine events, the first only falling to Ireland. On 8th December my father, who had long been