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A German Students' Duel.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

The following account of a German students' duel, a thing which is of frequent occurrence on the other side may interest those of our readers who are taking fencing lessons, though we trust it will not stir up any blood-thirsty desires in their American breasts:

"He was first enveloped in a large white gaberdine. Next his throat was protected by bands of thick cloth, wound tightly round and round until it seemed well-nigh impossible for him to move his head. The front of his body was then covered with what looked very like a dropsical cricket pad on a large scale, extending from the chest to the knees. The sword arm, from the wrist to the shoulder, was then padded and bandaged to three times its natural size, and the hand guarded by a thick leathern gauntlet. Lastly, a pair of spectacles, rimmed with metal, protected the eyes. The schlager, or duelling sword, is then placed in his hand - a nasty looking weapon about a yard and a quarter in length, quite blunt but for about ten inches at the end, where it is double-edged and as sharp as a razor. Thus accoutred, our hero, being the challenging party, walks slowly forward to the middle of the ground, his right arm, which must be terribly heavy, supported by the Fuchs, or junior freshman of the Verbindung, and surrounded by his comrades and admirers. Meanwhile the same elaborate preparations have been going on at the other end of the ground, and in a few moments the men are standing opposite each other, the one small and lithe, the other a stout heavy man, with the head and neck of a bull. Each man has his second - also partially protected by padding - who stands close by him on the left, with a blunt sword in his hand. Between the two, but at a safe distance, stands the umpire. Just behind is an attendant with a basin of water, a sponge, and a chair, while the doctors hover round the group like vultures scenting slaughter from afar. The buzz of conversation in the ring is immediately hushed as the umpire calls Silentium, zur Mensur! and announces that two members of such and such Verbindungen will fight for 15 minutes. Then one of the seconds gives the word to cross swords; and as the two figures in the middle stand with right arms high in the air and swords crossed, the other second cries Los! and off they go. The strokes, coming entirely from the wrist, rain down so rapidly that it is almost impossible for an inexperienced eye to follow them, but as each one is guarded one hears the sharp thwack of the sword as it descends harmless on some part of the padding of the shoulder or throat. Suddenly a small tuft of hair seems to spring from the big man's head. "Halt!" cries his opponent's second. The swords are instantly stuck up by the seconds and the umpire steps up to examine the head. It was a close shave, but the skin is whole, so they start again. The men are now getting terribly excited. Breathless and panting they slash away at each other; and it is no easy matter for the seconds to stop them at the word "halt." - London Society.

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