The sports commenced at 1 p.m. on the 13th, with a closely contested flat race of 100 yards. A sack race which followed was, of course, rare fun, though not to some who took the most active part in it, for I am afraid one's nose coming in contact with hard gravel is anything but fun to the owner of such organ. The jockey race which came next must be noticed as exhibiting steeds in entirely a new light. In the present instance, they so far threw aside the nature of the equine race that, they selected for themselves jockeys from the arms of fearful Japanese mothers, who had come to see the fun. Clearly, as the referees decided, this class of jockey did not come within the scope of the programme. But one of the most entertaining items was the obstacle race, and considering, as I said before, the small space at the committee's command, several severe obstacles had been placed in the way of the competitors. Eighteen entered for this race. First, half a pound of pudding, minus anything oleaginous, and a basin of water was administered to each. At a given signal the "gorging" commenced. He who first got outside his "duff and water" started, and so on with the next. One would scarce believe with what incredible rapidity that pudding was metamorphosed. The next obstacle to be surmounted was a huge balk of timber raised at the ends, about a foot off the ground, under which the coursers were compelled to _crawl_. A row of eighteen barrels, with the ends knocked out, came next; then a climb up slack ropes, and over a transverse bar; and finally another balk of timber--if anything less than a foot off the ground--under which they had to squeeze and wriggle in the best manner possible. As a finale to our excellent programme, the most amusing and entertaining thing of all was yet to be carried out. A stunsail boom had been rigged out over the caisson, and rendered extremely fit for pedestrianism by plentiful libations of slush and soft soap. At the extreme end a basket containing, in the words of the programme, "a little pig" was slung. About thirty men stood to the front, as would-be possessors of "porcus." Each of the thirty, as valiant heroes as ever trod a plank or fisted handspike, tried and failed--and tried again with a like unsatisfactory result. Piggy still lay nestled in his swinging stye. True, once or twice he had cocked out his head with an enquiring squeal as the pole now and then received an extra hard shake, making the foundations of his house rather insecure. The affair was at length decided in an unlooked-for manner. As the thirty could not get the pork out, the latter took the initiative and got out himself--of course falling overboard, where he was secured by an amphibious sailor below.