ground, and, as it must not be touched until the admeasurements have been taken, gives an advantage to the overthrows, and places the short quoits at a corresponding disadvantage. Failing this, a swan's or raven's feather is perhaps the best stake; but they have a most awkward knack-from old association, I suppose-of jumping out of the ground and trying to fly at every third or fourth throw. The guttapercha can be cut to any length, and thrust deep enough to prevent the possibility of this.

The

Planting the right foot by the stake, keeping it to the outside, the game begins. There is no running or walking up to the place from which the throw is made. Such a proceeding would render a true throw of very rare occurrence. quoit is held in the right hand, balanced by the left, and raised, as a rifleman raises his rifle, until the edge just covers the tip of the stake. There is a moment's pause and poise, during which the brain and eye are carrying their commands to the muscles. Swing! The quoit is swung backward, then forward again rapidly, and there it goes on its course. Loosed when the arm was nearly horizontal, and made to spin by a twist of the wrist and the drawing away of the fingers, its flight is beautifully true. It does not describe a perfect arc. For about two-thirds the length of the ground it makes a gradual ascent, and at its highest point the height very nearly agrees with the distance: that is, in a throw of eighteen yards it is at twelve yards' distance about that height in the air, or rather less. Players differ on this point, some maintaining that the highest point in the trajectory should be at middistance. It is a mistake, as the commonest application of scientific principles would show. In such a throw the edge' is not sufficient to insure its being a 'sticker.' Its descent should be such that it will enter the ground at right angles to the two stakes and at angle of about 45 degrees. The stake is planted so as to meet this position and allow a perfectly true throw to leave the quoit a 'ringer,' which counts double.

With proper rules there is no such thing as chance in the game. Unfortunately rules of any kind are almost entirely unknown. The one or two simple ones that are needed have yet to be made. I never saw but one set in print. They were very extraordinary-especially the rule which imposed a fine of sixpence or threepence for the use, or rather mis-use, of certain words; and as the duty of judging of the enormity of the offence and the fine to be inflicted was to be referred to the members present at the time, the intervals between throwing might possibly have been enlivened by a spirited philological discussion. It must not be inferred from this that quoits is a game belonging to a not too respectable class of people. It has been a favourite game, at one time or another, with almost every class. At present it belongs almost exclusively to gentlemen and county matches, and great public games are very seldom heard of, though there are districts in which it is much played for wagers. quoit-ground is generally at the bottom of the lawn, or attached to the subscription bowling-green.

The

Perhaps I may be allowed, in the absence of other authority, to indicate what the rules should be. First of all in importance is the law that no quoit which does not stick in the ground should count, unless it is prevented by striking another quoit. This rule is not acknowledged generally, I know. If it were, it would deal with all sorts of unskilful throws; for it may be depended upon that there is something radically wrong when, if the ground is in proper condition, a quoit bounces out and rolls away. 'Rollers,' and floppers,' and, in a lesser degree, 'wabblers' all do this, and they are all unskilful. A flopper' is very ugly. The disc being loosed at an improper altitude, before the edge points sufficiently upwards, it flies to a great height, and comes down quite flat. The force of the concussion, when it reaches the ground, throws it up again, and it may leap close to the stake. If the concave side is downwards it will not count, but if it is uppermost it will, and

very often does so, to the prejudice of quoits thrown much more correctly and nearer. Ought it to count at all? Certainly not; for, from first to last, it was an offence against all the rules of art. On 'lively' ground, as the cricketers say, I have seen a quoit so thrown jump five or six yards. To insist upon counting such a quoit is to me a sure evidence of an indifferent player.

The 'roller' is also defective, but not so bad. The properly thrown quoit maintains its parallel the whole distance: but if, in the act of loosing it, it is turned to the left or rightthat is, one side raised higher than the other-it will strike the ground in that position and will then bounce out and roll spirally, very often ending by settling down close to the stake. The rule in this case evidently ought to be to take the quoit to the place where it struck the ground, place it in the cut made, and pressing the lip down, let it be measured therefrom-that is the only equitable law. The same law would meet all cases where the ground is too hard for the disc to enter deep enough to be held. In such a case I always throw well over the stake, because it leaps out, and when the leap is from the back of the stake, it is a positive gain, while from the front it is an equally positive loss.

The 'wabbler' is often a betterthrown quoit than the 'roller,' yet it is far less graceful to watch. It generally makes a sadly erratic course, but often comes to a good ending nevertheless. Having this article and this very paragraph in view, I endeavoured, the last time I played quoits, to throw a 'wabbler,' in order to ascertain the cause. I found it difficult, gave it up in despair, and went on with the game. The very best players sometimes throw 'wabblers.' They look shocking, like an unsteady pigeon-a 'tumbler,' that wants to make a summersault in the air, and finds its courage fail at every attempt. After giving up the endeavour, I threw a 'wabbler,' without meaning it. My quoit was just raised, and at the moment when I was about to loose it I saw that it was leaning to the right hand, and would probably be a roller. I jerked

my hand to the left-away it went, an eyesore, a wretched 'wabbler' but it entered the ground at a correct angle. That is not often the case for once a 'wabbler,' it is a 'wabbler' as long as it remains in the air, and usually strikes the ground with an inclination to one side or the other.

I have been theorising. It is such a dear old game-so time-honoured in ancient song, but never in modern prose, that I hope for pardon. Meanwhile, what of the game?

Our game has gone on pleasantly all the while: these remarks about rules might have been made incidental, had not delicacy prevented me from supposing that you, reader, who were my supposititious opponent, would be guilty of throwing 'floppers,' 'rollers,' or 'wabblers,' which are grave offences in the eyes of all lovers of quoits. We have two 'shots' each from each end. At every throw there is a free backward swing, followed by a forward one that somehow draws the whole body into action, and necessitates a couple of long strides forward that leave the stake free for the next player, who, quoit in hand, stands ready. So the game goes on, with sharp walks from end to end. No player must leave an end until the last quoit is thrown, and when we are getting nearly 'up,' and they are too close for it to be possible to tell who is 'in,' we are pleasantly impatient to be off. There is literally no waiting when only two play, and any more than two is too many. Everybody has a short turn and often. While one is throwing, the other is making ready. Then we walk down, sometimes to find two so nearly equidistant, that the eye fails to tell which is first. Then a string attached to the pin is unfurled, and the point soon settled. This arrangement for measuring is so very simple, that it seems to commend itself to every quoit-player as the natural thing. Yet it is rarely seen, because it is unknown, and the players at every turn go casting about for straws or anything that will do for the admeasurement.. Perhaps both are equally near, then neither counts. It would be a good

rule, in such cases, for the second quoits to be adjudged; but there are enough reformations required in quoit laws, without this, which is not very material, being insisted upon.

The game goes on rapidly. Now and then there is a 'ringer,' or one player has two in,'-that is, both his quoits nearest; ard by-and-bye we look at our watches with that peculiar glance which denotes a little anxiety, such as I have seen lurking about expectant faces at railway stations, when a train that is bearing some one dear to the owners has been slightly overdue. We are about to remark that dinner is rather late, when the welcome bell goes, or 'little Willie' runs out with a pleasant summons; and then we go in with wonderful appetites, improved digestions, and a most complete oblivion with regard to the lunch we ate at midday in the City, the Temple, or Strand: for all which we thank our quoits and that 'bit of land' at the back of our friend's suburban house.

and the desire to realize the vision is strong. It is so dull in the City; and the haunts of the kingfisher, where the rivulet glitters in the sunshine, passing between beds of primroses, would be So sweet! What are the cathedrals, palaces, and exchanges to the temples of Nature, where men may taste the subtler inspiration which makes the concert in the wood and every hedge-row vocal! But it can't be done, says stern Necessity; commerce and Lombard Street cannot spare you. The beauty of the morning will not make a susceptible difference in the duties to be gone through at the War Office; Excise and Custom House work must be done, cheques cashed, and the money found for them; entries made; newspaper articles written; tape measured: and, in short, the business of the world does not care a fig for the spring. More's the pity, thinks many a man who would not care to be thought quite so 'sentimental' by his friends and fellows : for 'sentiment' is not the thing' in the City just now. For all that he determines to go away home as early as possible, and enjoy the sunshine in his garden. Perhaps he will turn to the work of primitive man-sow a bed of mignionette, and plant dahlias. It is more likely that he will play some garden game: the spring will not let him be idle, and the sunshine will not allow him to linger indoors.

What will he play at? There is such a variety for him to select from: croquet and lawn-billiards, quoits and bowls, and ball games innumerable. Of all aids to sport commend me to balls. For every age, every time, every place we English have a ball-game. have them in every material, from the crimson that captivates the eye of childhood, up to the ivory of billiards and the ebony of the green bowls.

We

Bowling on the green is a game for the sage: a philosopher might leave his study to play it. It is simple-but what judgment, what accuracy it requires! what a combination of rights, with never a wrong, has to take place! Imprimis, there

is the bias-you observe that the ball, or bowl,' is weighted on one side-to be calculated, then the distance to the jack, the balls that lie in the way, and the plan by which you can circumvent them. Oh, it is a charming game, bowling these black balls over the close green turf! It demands mathematical accuracy to send the ball spinning round and round, nearer and nearer with every circle to the jack, till at last it settles quietly down in its close vicinity; or say it comes in contact with it while it still has motion, and knocks it close up to your opponent's ball. There is a trial for your temper, after all your calculation and care, only to have aided your adversary to win-that, too, with a splendid ball! Most provoking! But it will happen.

A well-kept garden, with a single pad to walk in, often costs a great deal. I do not refer to the expenditure on gravel, tulips, or gardeners' labour: I mean, by the indirect expense which it might have been the means of preventing had it been a playground instead of a garden, with a lawn to run upon, bowl hoops, throw balls, use skippingropes, erect swings, and play at "Tom Tidler's ground,' 'pewit,' and the always diverting tick,' and 'five holes,' and all those little nondescript games which make the sum of happiness in child-life, and which are essentially garden games. They are of more importance in this crowded London than a few flowers, for they mean health and strength; and I never see a prettily laid-out little patch of garden, where the children's feet must never press the edging of box, without some regret, though I am not insensible to the beauty of flowers.

The games I have mentioned have no classical reputation. As games they are so little and insignificant that I feel I have done a bold thing in introducing them here. Their value must be my excuse; and they are, moreover, very charming in their way, as all games must be that make little cheeks glow, eyes sparkle, and faces radiant with pleasure. What a simple thing is a swing, or, as it was called when I

first became acquainted with its giddy pleasure, a 'swaque.' Nothing to do but to sit down and go backwards and forwards apparently. A little observation shows that there is more than this-that exertion of a general character is required to keep up the motion, and that it demands vigorous and brisk work, especially for the arms and legs.

Summer skates are new adjuncts to sport. On a lawn they are capital, and give a new charm to 'tick.' The supposition that they are useful in learning real skating is a nonsensical one, and they do not need such a fictitious claim to make them popular. The invention is not a new one. A Swiss, half a century or more ago, made house skates, having 'quatre petits roues, et ne pouvaient être employé que dans les chemins bien unis.' But they have only lately become popular in England. The four little wheels revolve beautifully on turf, and some ingenious turns may be made in them, and some still more ingenious falls, at which, as it is only on soft turf, and not hard ice, we can afford to laugh; and Miss Ada-when she is quite sure that only an inch or two of delicate ankle has been displayedcan arise and join in the merriment, and skate away again

And wind about, and in and out, Like a sweet little brook flashing in the sunlight.'

'Les grâces' is another ladies' garden game. It is rather insipid, but since it has power to induce them to leave 'tatting,' and the fashionable decalcomanie,' and book-illuminating, I will hold my peace concerning it, and leave them to throw their silken hoops from their lance wands and catch them as they descend again. I cannot see any peculiar grace in the pose which the pastime requires-but perhaps the fault is mine.

Archery does not come within the category of garden games, except the now nearly obsolete cross-bow shooting. Were it otherwise-had ladies grounds in which they could practise when they chose, the art of Robin Hood would soon be wonderfully popular, and Mrs. Horniblow would have to look to her laurels:

for archery is the one solitary sport at which ladies are allowed to compete in public for prizes, and at which their skill comes into direct comparison with that of the gentlemen-and they are determined to be content with no indifferent place in the race; but there is always this difficulty of the ground, which requires to be long to be of servicefar longer than lawns in gardens

are.

Of other garden games-and there are many-it is needless to speak: the want is rather in the gardens than in the games. This wonderfully serious capital of ours is too intent upon business to take much heed of playgrounds. There are the parks-but who can get to them? how can girls go there to skip and bowl their hoops? In the streets they are forbidden; yet children

will, despite Sir Richard Mayne and his knights, skip, and trundle hoops; boys will play tip-cat and leap-frog; and at this time there is an enormous rage for the recently well-nigh obsolete whipping-tops; and I have only to look from my window into the 'quiet street' in which I live to see a host being zealously lashed by boys and girls belonging to widelyseparated grades of London society; for the stockingless, bonnetless girls and ill-clad street boys know that it is a 'quiet street,' and dispute the pavement inch by inch with the respectable children who, lacking a garden for their games, come out to play them on the smooth flag-stones. Surely every genial-hearted ratepayer enjoys a secret chuckle when he sees any one of the crew make game of the bobby.'

J. D. C.