TOPSY BINGHAM’S BOAT-RACE.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VIII, Issue 26, 27 June 1891, Page 106

TOPSY BINGHAM’S BOAT-RACE.

<»PSY BINGHAM is the belle of a certain suburban community which shall be nameless. It is Vx better not to give it a name, as to do so would immediately make every one conversant with some of t '* ie ,lIOHt P r * va tc affairs of a young I’jr 1 f J ln-’ly who, even if her real name is f. C not Topsy Bingham, would at once -fa be recognised if one were to hint that her skirts and neckties—not XV to mention her tan shoes and silk stockings—are the cynosure of all ? eyes whenever she graces a lawntennis party or strolls down the high street on a summer’s day; while the fact of her favoutite colour, both in winter and summer, being a peculiar rich scarlet renders her harmless flirtations rather more conspicuous to the eagle eyes of the local dowagers than they would otherwise be. She did not, however, wear scarlet a year or two ago, when she went to stay with the Cookhams, near Putney, for the University Boat-race. She wore just as much light blue as she could conveniently cram on to her trim little person, and freely blessed the lucky tosser of a bygone day who won for < 'ambridge the choice of the more becoming colour ; for Topsy Bingham had a brother in the boat, and it was to see 4 dear old Dick’ practise with the crew’ that she went to Putney a fortnight before the race took place. * Dear old Dick ’ was not feeling so proud and self-satisfied as his sister was on the day when she came up to town and took train again at Waterloo. Dick had not improved so much with practice as the captain of the C.U.B.U. had fondly hoped, and the sporting papers spoke freely with regard to his performances. There could be no question that the Cambridge boat was not going well ; there was a distinct ‘ raggedness on the bow side,’ said the critics, anil they gave Dick as the cause of it. They even went so far as to say that his seat would he better filled by Troyte-Barker, of the Hall, or even Skinner, of Emmanuel, who were both being kept in training for emergencies. Dick confided his woes, by letter, to the sister who had always shared his joys and sorrows; herousedher indignation and secured her sympathy, wdiile she tried to infuse in him her own confidence in his merits and contempt for his aspersers. On the day she wentto Putney she bought an evening paper, which was particularly carping in its views on that morning’s practice. Topsy read all it had to say before she had got a hundred yards from Waterloo, for a thick fog had brought the train to a stop before it could reach Vauxhall. She laid the paper on the seat beside her, and stamped her foot upon the floor. ‘ Would you like the foot-warmer ?’ said a voice from the other end of the dimly-lighted carriage. A neatly-dressed little man was her travelling companion, with one of the largest and whitest collars she had ever seen. He pushed the foot-warmer rather gently under her little patentleather boots, in spite of her protests that she was not cold. ‘ Anything about the crews in the St. James's ?’ he asked, taking up her paper and glancing at it as he stood under the dim lamp. She eyed him rather sternly as he did so, as he had not asked her leave to lead it, and she made up her mind to refuse to answer if he tried to converse further with her, and snub him well if necessary. Topsy Bingham never could bring herself to be very civil to little men, and he was very small. The top of his tall hat was a good deal below the glass globe of the lamp, though he was standing up and holding the paper towards it.

‘ All !’ he said as he read it, ‘ they are still slating Three ; and no wonder—he will have to go.’ ‘ It's a shame !’ broke in Topsy, forgetting her resolution to be dumb. ‘ It’s a horrid shame !’

‘ Eli ’ what ?’ said the little man in surprise, looking down at her—he would hardly have done so, even at her, had she not been seated.

‘ It’s a horrid shame to abuse him like that, and say he’s not good enough,’ she said; ‘and it’s all the fault of the coxswain.’

*<>h, well,’ began the little man ; but she interrupted him. ‘He has done nothing but goon at poor Dick ever since they began to train. I believe it’s he who tells every one Dick is to blame for the boat going badly.’ ‘ He has good opportunities of judging,’ said the little man rather feebly ; he was evidently alarmed at the storm he had provoked ; for he was not only little, but quite young, and had possibly never before tried to pacify a young lady in a rage.

‘ (food opportunities of judging !’ echoed Miss Bingham ; ‘ he has to steer the boat, not coach it ; and there he is going on at poor Dick, “ Three, you’re late ! Three, you’re too soon ! Time, three,” just as if there was no one else in the boat. I’ve heard all about him—little beast 1’ At this last interjection the little man fairly collapsed on to the seat opposite Topsy, taking off his hat as he did so and mopping his forehead nervously with a large silk handkerchief with a very wide coloured border. His hair was cropped short and rather thin on his temples. ‘ Is Bingham a friend of yours?’ he said faintly.

• Friend !’ said Topsy disdainfully ; ‘ Dick’s my brother !’ ‘ And you think he ought to row ?’said the little man. ‘ I know some of the crew,’ he added, ‘ and they say the boat rolls very much ; and the time is bail on the bow side,’ he added more firmly. ‘ Dick says its Five’s fault that he can’t keep time sometimes ; ami then Girdlestone goes on at him, and he gets nervous and loses his temper—Dick does pet cross sometimes.’

‘ After all the cox does not make up the crew,’ said the little man encouragingly. But Topsy refused to be comforted ; she took out her handkerchief and sniffed.

‘Girdlestone has steered the Cambridge boat for three years,’ she said ; * and they think a lot of his opinion. I believe, he always gives it too : he’s a swaggering, conceited little man. I’m sure, with nothing to do but sit still ami be disagreeable.’

The corner of Topsy’s mouth began to drop, and she sniffed again, and blew her nose; the little man regarding her with evident apprehension and certainly some terror. ‘ I know Mr Girdlestone,' he said—‘slightly.’ ‘ Little beast !’ said Topsy again ; and then, recollecting

that the expression, was perhaps outre between strangers, froze and sat silent.

‘ I think ’—began the little man nervously ; but the engine whistled and the train went on, and his remark was drowned.

‘ Thank you for your paper,’ he said, handing it back to her. She said nothing, but sat reading it, and hardly looked at him again till they both got out at Putney. He, on the contrary, looked at her a good deal, and found it more pleasant than talking to her in the state of mind she was in. Topsy is very pretty ; but if Dick gets cross sometimes, so does she. Topsy had a very dull fortnight at Putney. It rained nearly the whole time, and was foggy during the rest of it; so that she was bound to admit that she had not seen much more of Dick than an occasional glimpse as the boat rushgd past in mid stream, and might almost as well have remained at home. He said that training prevented him from calling on the <'ookhams, who lived a mile from the river ; but he wrote occasionally in rather better spirits. At all events he was being kept in the boat, which was something, and the papers said he improved. It does not particularly matter which crew won the race that year. Cambridge, at all events, did much better than was expected of them, and soon after the start, when Topsy saw them from the garden of some friend?, of the Cookhams, they held a distinct lead, to her no small delight. She looked a perfect picture of a partisan of the Light Blues—from the top of her hat (which was trimmed with just the right shade, procured expressly at Cambridge ; most ladies wear it much too dark) to the beautiful spray of Neapolitan violets and lilies of the valley which adorned the front of her jacket. They hardly matched the blue, but were, no doubt, the nearest approach to it which could be got except forget-me-nots, which would not have smelt half so sweet. They came out by a special messenger from Putney, though they boie the label of a Covent-garden flower shop. ‘ Delightful of Dick to send them,’ said Topsy—‘ dear old Dick !’

‘ What a nice brother,’ said Miss Cookham, ‘to send flowers to his own sister.’

‘ You don’t know Dick,’ said Topsy ; then added, ‘ Why, there he is !’ The race had then been over for more than half an hour, and they were watching the crowd over the garden wall while lunch was being got ready. Dick had gone back to Putney on the steamer, and elbowed his way through the admiring throng to the house where he expected to find his sister. He looked very well in his blue blazer and cap, and Topsy felt half-an-inch taller as she walked across the lawn to meet him.

‘ Will you let me introduce Mr Girdlestone ?’ said Dick. ‘ My sister, Miss Bingham—Mr Girdlestone.’ Topsy hardly glanced at the source of her past anxieties —in fact, till he was introduced she had not seen the ‘ ’Varsity cox ’ behind her more massive brother. ‘ Dear old boy,’ she said, ‘ how splendidly you rowed !’ ‘ Do you think his time has improved ?’said Mr Girdlestone. ‘ I believe Five was really to blame, Miss Bingham.’ Topsy looked at the little man in his dapper little light blue blazer ; there was something familiar in his face. He was struggling to put on his neat little blue cap properly, having taken it oft’ to bow to her ; a flannel cap is a very trying thing to bow with. He took it off altogether, and tried to replace it in the only way in which the thing can be properly done —namely, with both thumbs inside at the back. As he did so, Topsy saw something familiar in the outline of his forehead ; she had seen those funny little temples somewhere before.

‘ The little beast !’ he said, bowing again, and getting very red as she began to recognize him. ‘ I was afraid to confess it that day you were in such a rage with me.’ Topsy Bingham is small, and for a few minutes she felt even smaller.

‘ I met your sister the day the crew went out at eight in the morning,’ he explained to Dick. ‘ They let me run up to town afterwards for a wedding ; a cox has privileges, Miss Bingham, even though he is a lit ‘ Don’t please !’ said Topsy, trying to change the conversation ; * what lovely flowers you sent me Dick.’ ‘ I !’ said Dick in surprise, looking at them.

‘ Come,’ said Mr Girdlestone hastily, they are going in to lunch ; we have deserted the rest of the crew, so let me take you in, Miss Bingham, and be forgiven my sins.’ So in they went ; and as Mr Girdlestone has been seen since on the Binghams’ carriage at Lord’s, and in their house boat at Pangbourne—not to mention other places—it will certainly be best not to reveal the name of the suburban community Miss Topsy adorns. They have enough to gossip about there already.