“It doesn’t seem to be such a tough old game, after all,” said Roy. “Of course a fellow gets pounded around a lot, but it doesn’t hurt him much if he’s good and hard.”
“That’s the point generally overlooked by people who put up a holler against the game,” said Fred. “Football isn’t for babies and weaklings, and the fellow who goes into it should be in perfect health and hardened by training that will enable him to stand up under pounding and jolts which would put a feeble chap all to the bad in no time at all. Observe how quickly fellows in fine condition recover from injuries on the field which would seem sufficient to put them under the doctor’s care for weeks or months. When some foolish chap who is soft as mush or has some chronic weakness attempts to get into the game, notice how often it happens that he’s the one seriously injured; and of course this gives people who do not understand the circumstances and who are opposed to the game a chance to raise a great to-do.”
“My folks have never wanted me to play.”
“Well, mine are not enthusiastically in favor of my playing, although my mother is the chief objector. But she’s always worrying about me of late, no matter what I do. It has been that way ever since——” He checked himself suddenly.
“Ever since what?” asked Roy.
“Oh,” answered Fred evasively, “ever since I got old enough to go in for such things. She doesn’t like to have me go gunning, and she actually cried when father bought me my gun.”
“Oh, say,” exclaimed Hooker quickly, “that makes me think of something. Why can’t we get in a little shooting Saturday morning? There ought to be ducks over in Marsh Pond, and we could try ’em Saturday, and arrange to get home by the middle of the forenoon--by half past ten or eleven, at the latest. That would give us plenty of time to rest up before the game.”
“But Marsh Pond is nearly five miles from here, and, in order to get there early enough to pick up any ducks in the morning, we’d have to turn out in the middle of the night and make a stiff tramp of it. I’m afraid that would be a little too much, Hooker.”
“Now listen to me; I have a plan. I’m not in favor of rising at two or three o’clock and hoofing it all that distance for half an hour’s shooting after daybreak. You’re as wise to the signals as any fellow on the team, aren’t you?”
“I think so,” nodded Fred modestly.