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 "Come ahead."

"Do you know it's a strange thing," remarked Franklin, as they went out upon the sidewalk, "I never get this way before a Harvard game. It only strikes me when we meet the man with a Y on his shirt. I'd give a dollar to know if he feels the same way about us."

Already a few coaches, decorated in blue or the colors of old Nassau, were rumbling down the avenue to pick up their patrons. The breakfast hour passed and the food was swallowed somehow.

"I wish to thunder," Elliott, the football captain, observed, "that Jim would crack a smile. He's as glum as a hospital nurse."

"You never mind me," returned the trainer, who had been carrying around a couple of spare footballs all the morning, as if afraid some one would steal them. "You just play your 'ardest, that's hall I hask of you."

The morning passed so quickly that it hardly seemed an hour from the time of rising before the team climbed on the coach and started up-town for the battle ground; all the town seemed bound there also. The streets echoed