?Indeed it may have been 14 years old. At least it was badly festered.—ED.
ADVANCE! O EXCELLENT FIGHTER!
Regularly we receive SI in the F�d�ration Fran�aise d'Escrime, and we have indeed a real pleasure in reading your magazine, quite as much for its wonderful illustrations as for the sportive documentation.
In SI, Sept. 26, I particularly appreciated your SPORT IN ART, Royal Sports in Ancient Egypt
, however I regretted to see you did not mention fencing, a sport exercised in ancient Egypt. Here is a picture (see cut) which documents this. The original is found in Upper Egypt, around Luxor, on the walls of the temple of Medinet Habu built by Rameses III in 1190 B.C. The pharaoh had organized a great sporting competition in order to celebrate the Egyptian victory over the Libyans, and fencing "already" held a great place there. The fencers have weapons blunted by an enlargement of the foil easily visible; their hands are protected by a guard similar to that of the saber of today. Certain ones among them protect the face by a mask which has a thick padded chin piece covering both ears and attached on each side to the wig. Sometimes the fencers parry the thrusts by means of a narrow buckler fastened to the left forearm.
The hieroglyphics give some amusing details: One of the combatants cries at his adversary, "On guard and admire what my brave hand is going to do." The spectators cry at the conqueror: "Advance! Advance! O excellent fighter! O eminent fighter!" The public is composed of Assyrians, Sudanese and Egyptians. Present were a jury and the officials, recognizable by insignia.
Furry lung lung term disk frammis (E & D, Oct. 24, 31, Nov. 7, 14) worse jest hobble toe udder sand.
Together cents reader outlawed yore gut sum sing.
T. E. HARITOS
La Crosse, Wis.
Congo adulation stew Professor Chace sonnet under tainting sir ease bout putty Violate Huskings sander advent yours wither strung glover, Hairy. Lettuce salve a nether wan son.
J. M. BAIRD
Park Forest, Ill.
?Money tanks further kine worts. Watt chauffeur nether wan son.—ED.
THE NATIVE NEW YORK ANIMAL
Allow this provincial writer to voice a few opinions on Miss Sherwood's letter "Autumn, N.Y.C." (19th HOLE, NOV. 7).
New York City "breathes life" through a series of oxygen tents, it would appear, since there are no open spaces, even for a breath of air to enter. My contacts with this City of Myth afford me the opportunity to spend a great deal of time with the denizens of this concrete jungle. As soon as my car passes through the Lincoln or Holland Tunnel, or creeps laboriously over the George Washington Bridge, at that precise moment—that moment of truth—when the sign says " New York City," then my entire personality changes.