Bert Wilson, Marathon Winner

rst Ma

out him. "I wish we had a moving picture mac

the marksmen to round into form. Drake at the stern was striving to outdo his rivals in casting the discus far behind the ship. On the cork track the hundred-yard men were flashing like meteors from end to end, while the milers and long-distance men circled the ship at ten laps to the mile. The trainers snapped the watches on the trial heats and strove to correct defects of form or pace. Everywhere was speed and energy and abounding life. It was a fine example of the spirit that has made America great-the careful preparation, the unwearied application, the deadly determination that simply refuses to lose when it has once entered upon a struggle. And Bert's heart bounded

is steady, we've got to take account of the motion. You can't do on sea what you can on land. Ye'll get leg-so

rs of the Olympic Committee, had lighted his cigar and joined the group of Blues. Although a scholar of world-wide reputation, he was by no means of the "dry-as-dust" type. Alive to his finger tips, he was

er way through the waves; "what Waterloo was to modern Europe, what Gettysburg is to the United States,

g his hearers see the thing that he described. As Tom put it, "he didn't give lectures, he drew pictures." It was a picture that he drew now, and, as they listened, they were no longer young Americans of the twentieth century, but Greek youth of twenty-five hundred y

n of Athens, which had defied Darius, King of Persia, and added insul

position as that afterward held by Rome in Europe. It was not to be borne that this little state of Athens should dare to flout his authority. When he heard of the burning of Sardis, his rage was frightful. He shot an arrow into the air as a symbol of the war he prepared to wage. He commanded that every day a slave waiting at table should remind hi

ing his ingenuity to devise unheard of tortures for them. And now the galleys had been beached on the shelving shores of the Bay of Marathon, on the edge of which the village stood in a plain that wi

t Asia from Europe, and there would have been no serious check to prevent the barbarian hordes from swarming over the entire conti

sand men, trained and veteran warriors, accustomed to victory, were drawn up in battle array. Against this mighty host the Greeks had about ten thousand men. They had sent for help to Sparta, but,

mile distant. There were ten commanders of the little force, and opinion was divided as to whether they should attack at once or wait

reeks burst upon them with irresistible fury. The very fierceness and audacity of the attack confused and demoralized their opponents. The center stood its ground, but the wings gave way. Soon the battle became a rout; the rout a massacre. The Persians were

news of the struggle, watching, praying, fearing, scarcely daring to hope. News must be gotten to them at once. Pheidippides, a noted runner, started off on foot. The roads were rough and hilly, but he ran through the night as one inspired. T

for one last effort and staggered into the market place where all the city had gathered. They rushed forward to meet him. He gasped out: "Rejoice. We conquer," a

ply stirred. Their thoughts were still with that lonely runner rushing through the

at last, "that you've seen the p

was there on the same tri

lace where the first Olympic games were

es were held. Of course the greater part of it is in ruins after so long a time, but you can get a very g

ouldn't think they had any homes. Everything you read about seems to

the sports and exercises that developed the body to the fullest extent. They did not neglect the soul-Plato and Socrates and hosts of others bear testimony to that-but the body and its development were always uppermost in their thoughts. They honored their thinkers, b

id they have?

'Ben-Hur,' you can imagine how exciting it was. Then there were foot races, at first a single lap around the course, but afterward dev

them," said Bert. "They weren'

Perhaps they hated it, not because it was wicked, but because it was ugly. Rome wallowed in wounds and blood. It shouted with delight as gladiators hewed and hacked each other and wild beasts tore women and children to pieces

hard for the games," mused Bert, as

ths before they entered for any event. Then, too, they had to walk pretty straight. Before the games, a herald challenged all who might know of any wrong

won were looked upon as the

cessive. The fellow citizens of the victor carried him home in triumph. They supported him for the rest of his life. He became the first

ncle Sam will go as crazy as all that whe

ed Bert. "'There's many a slip 'twixt cup and

ose to retire, "rests 'on the lap of the gods.' But what we

mortals to a

o more-des