But to return to our friends of the “Rookersclub.” Ten minutes had elapsed, and all were still in the running except the disappointed man who had been ejected at the outset. Some had become quite communicative, trusting to their pipes to look after themselves while they exchanged views on politics. Others, not losing for one moment their sense of the importance of the occasion, kept the stems between their teeth, without allowing their tense expressions to relax into the faintest suspicion of a smile. One competitor in particular looked as if he were made of wax, even the chaffing of his colleagues failing to upset his gravity. He had been pointed out to me as a winner of many prizes and the fortunate possessor of a temperament any smoker might envy. “Ting-a-ling” went the bell, the announcement of the extinction of a pipe--the first defeat--and this early failure was received with general merriment. [Illustration: AN OPEN-AIR CONTEST IN THE COUNTRY. _From a Photograph._] [Illustration: A MEETING OF CHAMPIONS. _From a Photograph._] But hark! The bell was heard again. This time the victim was a man who had been trying to give me some faint idea of the magnitude of the feats he intended to accomplish, his loquacity being undoubtedly the cause of his premature downfall. As he made his exit amid roars of laughter I attempted to assuage his mortification by promising to convince myself on a future occasion of the grounds for his self-praise. He was forced to the indignity of becoming a looker-on, and tried to find consolation by critically regarding the performance of each candidate. Each time the judge’s bell gave the signal for the departure of another competitor he had some infallible theory to expound in regard to the unsuccessful smoker’s faults and follies, and upon those who still possessed a winning chance he generously showered well-meant, but unsolicited, counsel. Slowly but surely the tobacco of the remaining competitors burnt itself out, and every quarter of an hour, when the clock of the world-famed belfry on the opposite side of the square pealed forth one of its melodious airs, the number of the possible victors had diminished. After the lapse of about three-quarters of an hour the judge’s bell set up a continuous tinkle. It was now time for those who acted as controllers to keep a sharp look-out, and every now and then the order “Smoke, please,” could be heard, as a committee-man pointed at the bowl of an apparently extinguished pipe, whereupon the faintest cloud of smoke would rise into the air from the clay of the cunning laggard, or the bell would announce another failure. [Illustration: TOASTING THE WINNER AT A COUNTRY COMPETITION. _From a Photograph._]