A BEAUTY IN TRAINING.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume V, Issue 47, 22 November 1890, Page 3

A BEAUTY IN TRAINING.

A YOUNG lady wearing the latest thing in waistcoats tooled a pair of glistening bay horses down a well-known thoroughfare the other day, turning into one of the cross streets and drawing up in front of a Erivate gymnasium. Her groom sprang to the horses’ eads, and she, with the grace and speed of a bird, leaped to the ground and hastened inside the building. Two minutes afterwards she stood in a dressing-room. Slipping a light blouse over her head, a loose pair of trousers on her limbs, and pushing her feet’ into a pair of canvas slippers, she ran into the gymnasium. There for an hour she exercised on the parallel bars, the arm and leg weights, swung clubs and took a half-mile dash around the running track. She then pulled a heavy shirt known as a ‘ sweater ’ over her shoulders and hurried downstairs again. Next she wrapped a soft pink robe about her, and tiptoed across a hall-way into a marble lined bath-room. T hrowing aside her robe she placed herself under a shower bath, and pulled the cord, putting and slapping herself as the icy spray deluged her. Then, with a little cry of excitement, she ran across the floor and flew headforemost into the placid and cool plunge bath. Here she disponed like a naiad for five minutes or more, and then pattered back to her dressing room, getting into her street clothes with interesting rapidity, and, witli a careless brush to her wet hair, flying out to the street where her trap awaited her, and whipping up the horses, she sped away to another street, and got out at a door bearing the plate of a boxing professor. Running upstairs she called out a bright good morning to two men who were lying about in fighting togs, and stepped into a side room to make herself ready. Presently she came forth attired in the same manner as at the gymnasium, and, pushing her white hands into a huge pair of boxing gloves, squared off before the herculean professor. For some moments the pat of the gloves kept uparegular music, thegirlleading straight from the shoulder, and the professor, at her invitation, landing firmly on her pretty face. Agile as a cat and strong as an Indian, the fair fighter danced gracefully about, darting forward and jabbing a vicious blow at the teacher’s nose, and getting away with a light tap on the jaw. Three rounds of two minutes each satisfied the athletic maiden, and then the professor called his wife from upstairs to give her a rubbing down.

When she appeared in her street clothes again there was an unornamented straightness about her dark brown hair, but her face was as clear and healthy as a rose leaf, and she stepped about like a young bantam. She next drove to a restaurant and drank a bottle of stout and ate a hard cracker. After this she went home and lay down for a half hour. For luncheon she had a steak, baked potatoes, rolls, and ale. At four o’clock in the afternoon she was galloping through the park on a thoroughbred hunter. The other day this vivacious creature was asked why she was doing such rigid work. ‘lam in training to become a healthy, wholesome, long-lived wife and mother,’ she replied. ‘ iack was stroke in his college crew, you know, and I mean to be a wife whom he will be proud of.’