d to him, night and morning,
these sixty years?"

"It is thy right; and, as thou seemest content with it, Keep the place
thou hast in the rear. It is only occupying it a little earlier than
thou would'st otherwise. Now, recall the rules of the games, hardy
gondoliers, and make your last appeal to your patrons. There is to be no
crossing, or other foul expedients; naught except ready oars, and
nimble wrists. He who varies needlessly from his line until he leadeth,
shall be recalled by name; and whoever is guilty of any act to spoil the
sports, or otherwise to offend the patricians, shall be both checked and
punished. Be ready for the signal."

The assistant, who was in a strongly manned boat, fell back a little,
while runners, similarly equipped, went ahead to order the curious from
the water. These preparations were scarcely made, when a signal floated
on the nearest dome. It was repeated on the campanile, and a gun was
fired at the arsenal. A deep but suppressed murmur arose in the throng,
which was as quickly succeeded by suspense.

Each gondolier had suffered the bows of his boat to incline slightly
towards the left shore of the canal, as the jockey is seen, at the
starting-post, to turn his courser aside, in order to repress its ardor,
or divert its attention. But the first long and broad sweep of the oar
brought them all in a line again, and away they glided in a body.

For the first few minutes there was no difference in speed, nor any sign
by which the instructed might detect the probable evidence of defeat or
success. The whole ten, which formed the front line, skimmed the water
with an equal velocity, beak to beak, as if some secret attraction held
each in its place, while the humble, though equally light bark of the
fisherman steadily kept its position in the rear.

The boats were soon held in command. The oars got their justest poise
and widest sweep, and the wrists of the men accustomed to their play.
The line began to waver, It undulated, the glittering prow of one
protruding beyond the others; and then it changed its form. Enrico of
Fusina shot ahead, and, privileged by success, he insensibly sheered
more into the centre of the canal, avoiding by the change the eddies,
and the other obstructions of the shore. This manoeuvre which, in the
language of the course, would have been called "taking the track," had
the additional advantage of throwing upon those who followed some
trifling impediment from the