Cinder Path Tales

MY FIRST, FOR MONEY I had not been long at the "Traveller's Rest" before, at Hacking's request, Iwent into mild training, and soon after he broached to me a plan by which I might make enough to keep me for some months, and incidentally a comfortable penny for his own purse. This wasthe plan : There wasin Boston a man by the name of Simmons, who was yards betterthan any one in the country. Hacking plainly told me that whileI ought towin, even I had no sure thing, but that he would risk a hundred dollars ormore on my success ; that he could get odds ofat least two to one, andthat he would give me one-third ofthe winnings. It may be a matter of surprise that I should decline thisoffer, — almostan object of charity, with everything to win and nothing to lose; but there was something very disagreeable to me in the thought of turning professional. The line betweenama­ teur and professional was then, and is now, much more closelydrawn on the other side than here,— and rightly so, tomy mind. While I donot propose topreach a sermon on this text, " I could, an' if I would." The jockeying in our American colleges, though very skilfully done, is bad in every wayand hurts legitimate sport not a little.