Thus tuned to gentle enjoyment, the fair mother and her lovely daughter
leaned back in a delicious languor proper to their sex, and eyed with
unflagging though demure interest, and furtive curiosity, the wealth of
youth, beauty, stature, agility, gaiety, and good temper, the two great
universities had poured out upon those obscure banks; all dressed in
neat but easy-fitting clothes, cut in the height of' the fashion; or
else in jerseys white or striped, and flannel trousers, and straw hats,
or cloth caps of bright and various hues; betting, strolling, laughing,
chaffing, larking, and whirling stunted bludgeons at Aunt Sally.
But as for the sport itself they were there to see, the center of all
these bright accessories, “The Racing,” my ladies did not understand
it, nor try, nor care a hook-and-eye about it. But this mild dignified
indifference to the main event received a shock at 2 p. m.: for then
the first heat for the cup came on, and Edward was in it. So then Racing
became all in a moment a most interesting pastime--an appendage to
Loving. He left to join his crew. And, soon after, the Exeter glided
down the river before their eyes, with the beloved one rowing quietly
in it: his jersey revealed not only the working power of his arms,
as sunburnt below the elbow as a gipsy's, and as corded above as a
blacksmith's, but also the play of the great muscles across his broad
and deeply indented chest: his oar entered the water smoothly, gripped
it severely, then came out clean, and feathered clear and tunably on the
ringing rowlock: the boat jumped and then glided, at each neat, easy,
powerful stroke. “Oh, how beautiful and strong he is!” cried Julia. “I
had no idea.”
Presently the competitor for this heat came down: the Cambridge boat,
rowed by a fine crew in broad-striped jerseys. “Oh, dear” said Julia,
“they are odious and strong in this boat too. I wish I was in it--with a
gimlet; he _should_ win, poor boy.”
Which corkscrew staircase to Honour being inaccessible, the race had to
be decided by two unfeminine trifles called “Speed” and “Bottom.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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