Two boats accompanied the
Champion, in one of which was his trusty Pilot, SMIFF, and in the
other a Party of their 'Mutual Friends.' One thing, indeed, was in the
Hatfield man's favour; his lately cocky and contemptuous competitors
had been 'weeded out' by a fortuitous series of adverse circumstances,
including what SOLLY, in a spirit of cynical but excusable elation,
subsequently called 'that beneficent disease, the Influenza.' The
Irish Contingent, which not long ago looked dangerous, had become so
thoroughly demoralised by mutual hostilities and disputes between
them and their backers, that there was not a single 'Paddy' prepared
to enter the water when the signal 'gun' fired for the start. SOLLY,
therefore, had it all to himself; the performance practically resolves
itself into a trial of his skill and endurance, and the 'Scythe
Bearer' is the only enemy against whom the Great Swimmer has to
measure himself. Indeed, he covered what may be called the first stage
of his long journey with ease, and in an unexpectedly short time.
Nevertheless, it is to be feared that 'later on' he will have to
contend against cold, little or no sun, northerly breezes, &c.; the
'flowing tide' will assuredly not always be with him, and before he
gets to the end of his briny journey, even the Hatfield Wonder will
probably have 'had enough of it.
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