"The same old Plum," said Ben, with a sigh. "Doesn't it make one weary to listen to him?"
"Better try to forget him, and Nat Poole too," answered Dave.
"That is easier said than done," said Shadow Hamilton. "Which puts me in mind of a story. There was once——"
"He is bound to tell 'em," came, with a groan, from Sam Day.
"Never mind; go ahead, Shadow," said Dave. "Sam said you could start in after we were on board, and I'd rather hear a story than discuss Plum and Poole."
"You were talking about forgetting Plum. One day a boy got into his mother's pantry and stole some preserved plums. When the plums were found missing the boy's mother caught him and cuffed his ears in good style. Then the boy went outside and his chum told him to stop crying. 'Forget that your mother cuffed you,' said the other boy. 'I ain't thinkin' of that,' answered the boy who had stolen the plums. 'Then stop crying.' 'I can't.' 'Why not?' asks the other boy. 'Because the plums was hot an' I kin feel 'em all along my throat yit.'" And at this anecdote a smile passed around.
"I suppose football is being talked about," observed Ben, after a brief pause.
"Yes, some of the boys are playing already," answered Sam Day. "I have been waiting for Roger to get back. He was captain of our eleven last season, you'll remember."
"Yes, and you were right tackle."