Cinder Path Tales

CINDER-PATH TALES to throw the hammer into the bay. We could see the crowd, contestantsand all, file into the long dining-rooms, where " clam­ bakes" were served. A very nice lunch for an excursionist, but about the most awful diet possible foran athlete, particularly ifhe gorge himselfin a laudable ambition to get the full value ofhis fifty cents. We waited until it was after two o'clock, and found the games already started when w arrived at the place calledin compliment the "athletic grounds." It was simply an en­ closure roped off from anopen field; track there was none, except as the feet of contest­ ants had wornoff the turf and the sun had baked the surface hard.There were no seats, and we found our way with some difficulty through the spectators, who crowded a dozen deep all the way round, and tested the str ngth of the ropeand the firmness of the wooden posts throughwhich itwas drawn. An eager, hot, and perspiring crowd it was, jostling, pushing, and elbowing, and the last half-dozen rows might as well have been in the Orkneys, as far as seeing the sports was concerned. As usualthe tall and strong were in front, and the short and weak were behind. We foundthe enclosure full of contestants and their friends,the latter an insupportable nuisance, ineverybody's way, not excepting