Marathon

There is a new saga to be sung in Nova Scotia--about Johnny Miles, the Welsh pugilist's son, who worked in the coal drifts at Cape Breton until his father saw he was a footracer. It will tell how Johnny was found a job aboveground, driving a grocer's wagon; was trained, conditioned, counseled and sent down to tell the officials of the great Boston Marathon that he, a lad of 18, had come to win their race, though never in his life had he run more than 15 miles on end. It will sing of Clarence DeMar, the stalwart Sunday School teacher of Melrose, Mass., who had won four times and held the world's record, and of Albin Stenroos, iron-legged Olympic champion, who had come all the way from Finland to fag DeMar. It will chant how Johnny Miles ran respectfully, first behind DeMar and then behind Stenroos, ahead of the straggling pack of 85 others--out through Natick, around through Wellesley, back through Auburndale, up and down through Newton Hills, where Johnny Miles began passing Stenroos and dropping back, passing him and dropping back, nine times, until once he passed him grinning and refused to drop back, but spurted on through Brookline, Coolidge Corner and Governor's Square to-Exeter Street, where Johnny Miles grinned a broader grin, flung up his arms and burst the tape, not only winner of a historic race but possessor of a new world's record by the astonishing margin of nearly four minutes. The new record for the 26 mi., 385 yd.: 2 hr., 25 min., 40 2/5 sec.