NEW YORK, Dec. 4, 1886.

About 6000 friends of the tony 7th regiment gathered in the vast armory this evening to witness the 10th annual games between members of the regiment. The games began with a pistol shot at 8, and thereafter, until toward midnight, the sound of the pistol scared the air with admirable frequency and persistence. The games were all well conducted, and some of the events were exciting, notably the bicycle races and the mile walk, but the greatest interest centred on the tug-of war. In this, three colleges were represented - Harvard, Columbia and the City of New York. Yale had been hoped for, but did not appear. The two local institutions tugged first.

The city of New York men were uniformly light, and McElven, the anchor, the smallest and slightest of the four. The Columbia men were middle-weight. At the sound of the pistol, Both teams fell like lead to the floor, with Columbia slightly in the advantage. For an instant the red ribbon at the middle of the rope failed to budge, and then it just peered out of the snap on the Columbia side. At the end of the first minute Columbia had just about half an inch, and, although the City of New York's boys pulled sturdily, and their friends shouted for them unremittingly, the fifth minute ended with the Columbias 11 inches to the better.

A half an hour later the Harvard team strolled on to the floor, ready to show what it could do. Foremost among the tuggers was J. H. B. Easton, the "biggest anchor any team ever had," as an enthusiastic soldier remarked who was trying to place $10 against $5 that Harvard would win. He has tugged seven times in that hopeful capacity, and only once has Harvard had to yield the victory. The other members of the team do not compare well with Easton in size of body, but they are scholarly, toughened young men, and each one good in his place, They were: E. A. Pease, captain and 1; Percy Chase, 2; Franklin Remington, 3. The teams took hold of the rope, and waited for the pistol. When it popped, there was a heavy thud, as the eight men reached the floor exactly together. There was a mighty straining, and in two or three seconds the old ribbon showed to the advantage of Harvard; then it wavered, and as Columbia "heaved" it started to the blue side of the line. There was a chorus of orthographic shouts, but the red ribbon paused at the end of the first two inches, and immediately travelled back toward the crimson end of the rope, at the end of the first minute Harvard had the advantage by four inches. There were three heaves during the next minute, in which Harvard gained two inches more. The Columbia men were tugging manfully, but Easton had set his teeth together and was looking out under his dark brows with a determined menace to the opposition tuggers, and was gathering the coils of rope for new heaves. After resisting passively the efforts of the Columbia men to tug away that six inches during the third minute, Harvard men began, suddenly in the fourth minute to pull as if they meant business. The prostrate Columbias wavered and almost came tumbling up from the cleats. As it was, the belt was pulled clean off of Hopke, the anchor, and the red ribbon rushed about three feet toward Harvard. Then two brave Harvard men away up in a balcony gave a duet consisting of the nine 'rahs, and the audience applauded. Hopke did not give up, but threw his belt away and lay down to tug like the rest of his men. The Harvards were lying at ease on the plank, Easton alone keeping his hands on the rope. Ten seconds before the expiration of the time limit they tugged again, and added enough to their advantage to make the final victory amount to 6 feet 4 inches. Each member of the winning team received a fine gold medal as a token of the victory.