Some of them were hoping to play for a deeper stake than a pair of gloves.

A staff, from which fluttered a gay little flag, had been driven into the ground, exactly opposite the house; it was the starting and the winning point.

At a certain distance up the river, near to the mill, a boat was moored in mid-stream: this they would row round, and come back again.
At three o'clock they were to take the boats; and, allowing for time being wasted in the start, might be in again and the race won in three-quarters-of-an-hour.

But, as is often the case, the time was not adhered to; one hindrance after another occurred; there was a great deal of laughing and joking, forgetting of things, and of getting into order; and at a quarter to four they were not off.

But all were ready at last, and most of the rowers were each in his little cockle-shell.