Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1879-10-23
a Day ut the Butts.

a Day Rt the Butts.
1t was the fourth day of August, more
than hundred years ago, and the whole
road between London and the little village
of Harrow was thronged with people. 1t
was hot and dusty enough that summer
morning, but nobody seemed TO mind in the
eager scramble for the best seats; and it
was not long before the little green knoll,
Just at the west of the London road, SEEM
ed fairly alive with spectators.
1t was lovely spot-this well-known
Butts of Harrow-with its crown of tall
forest trees waving like SO many banners,
and its tries of grassy seats tcrracing the
slope. From time immemorial it had been
the scene of annual contests in archery, and
there was not boy in Harrow School who
fourth day of August.
When John Lyon founded the school it
was made condition of entrance, that
every pupil should be furnished with the
proper implements of archery; and among
the school ordinances drawn up in the year
1892 there was one to the effect that every
child should, at all times, be allowed bow
shafts, bow strings, and bracer.
No wonder the men of those days were
tall, and straight, and strong!
But bark The church clock down In
the village is striking the appointed hour.
A little figure, clad in red satin from head
to foot, darts, out from the thicket of trees
below, and now a procession of twelve
boys, some in white, some in red, and some
in green satin, take their places in the open
ring that has been left for the competitors
All the little archers have sashes and caps
of bright colored silk, and, looking down
from the garden knoll, the whole scene is a
kaleidoscope of color.
A silver arrow-the victor's prize-glit-
tiers temptingly in the sunlight: and tall
lad, who stands among the waiting twelve,
bends eagerly forward to examine it.
''Just look at Percival!" whispers one
little archer to his neighbor. ''He's bound
to get that arrow, isn't hel"
''Pooh! who cares for the arrowG" re-
spends the other disdainfully, ats nothing
but a plaything, anyway What l think
about is winning the game, not the arrow !"
Eyes; but you see it's different with
Percival u said the first speaker. Ellis
three Older brothers, three years in success
sion, won the arrows while they were here
at the Harrow School, and the father says
Percival must win the fourth for the one
empty corner in the drawing room, or he
shall be ashamed to call him his son
Just here the boys were interrupted in
their talk, for the target was ready. and,
at signal, the contest began. At first, one
shot after another fell quite outside the
third circle that surrounded the bull's-eye,
then came a shaft that glanced just to one
side of the inner circle; but at last after
many fruitless attempts, the bull's-eye was
fairly pierced, and the feat was greeted with
a gay concert from the French horns.
Now, it so happened-at least this is one of
the traditions of Harrow-that the name of
this last boy was "Iove," and when his
arrow touched the bulrs-eye a number Of
his school-fellows shouted high above the
horns:
"OmHia pincH Amor !'
"Not so' said another boy who stood
close by. "NOs NON ceClan rs AnlOi ,"
And carefully adjusting his shaft, he SHOT
it into the bull 's-eye a whole inch nearer
the centre than his rival.
But each boy among the twelve competi-
tors must have his own trial shot twelve
times repeated, before the final award can
be given. Meanwhile a careful tally is
Kept, and not until the one hundred and
forty-fourth arrow springs from its bow is
the victor's name announced:
"Thomas Reginald Percival."
That first victory seems to have given
magic impulse to his bow, for all twelve of
his arrows have pierced the charmed inner
circle of the target; and now, at the head
of an excited procession of boys, he is borne
triumphantly from the Butts to the village.
One little fellow in white satin runs far
ahead, waving the silver arrow with many
tlOurishes; and, when the school-buildings
of Harrow are reached, grand reception
is given to all the neighboring country
folk.
Young Percival, with bright eyes and
flushed checks, is the hero of the evening.
There are games and dancing, and all sorts
of meTy-making until the "wee sma"
hours, but the victoriaus boy can think of
nothing save the coveted arrow he has won.
That empty corner no longer troubles his
excited brain.
He has ably vindicated his right to the
old family name, and henceforward, the
father can point with pride to four trophies
won by his four sons at the famous Butts
of Harrow.
That was in 1866. In l771 the annual
shootings at Harrow were abolished; for
DIR. Heath, who was then head-master of
the school, thought they interfered with
the boys's studies The silver arrow pre-
pared for the following year, 1772, was
never used, but is still preserved at Harrow
as relic of the past. In the school-lib-
rary may be seen one of the archer's elabor-
ate suits, which is nearly hundred years
old; and the fourth of August, though no
longer an exciting day at the Butts, is still
kept as a holiday at Harrow School, and
commemorated with appropriate speeches.