“Well, affairs don’t look bright just at present; I’ll acknowledge that, Hope; in fact, it’s best to own up to the condition and face it squarely. But that doesn’t mean that there’s anything to be gained by worrying about it. No, take my advice; do your best, knock off work for a few days, make up your mind that everything’s going to come out right in the end, and keep whistling. After all—though I wouldn’t say this to any one but you—there’s not a particle of disgrace in being beaten, not a particle. I don’t want you to imagine that I’ve got it into my head that we’re going to be beaten; for I haven’t; I’ve seen plenty of more hopeless-looking cases than this right themselves when the time came. But what I mean is that it’s a poor plan to tell yourself that defeat is disgraceful; if you believe that you’ll find yourself in a condition for suicide some day; for every chap, no matter who, has got to face defeat at some time in his life. And the chap that can take a drubbing and come up smiling is the one that is going to be happiest and going to make the most of his life. The only time when defeat brings disgrace is when you haven’t done your honest best. But I didn’t ask you over here to listen to a lecture. What do you think of my plan? Will you lay off a while? To-day’s Friday; suppose we say until a week from to-morrow?”
“All right,” answered Dick dejectedly. “If you think I’d better; though, as far as I’m concerned, I don’t think there’s any necessity for it.”
“Of course you don’t; never saw a man who did. But we’ll call it a whim of mine, if you like. Well, that’s settled. Don’t come near the river; don’t talk about rowing, and don’t even think of it if you can help it; take a walk every day, or a run, and do just enough work at the weights meanwhile to keep your muscles stretchy. Do you think Crocker will be a good man to put in at stroke while you’re out of it?”
“Yes,” answered Dick. “You know I had him rowing there during vacation; he did first-rate.”
“All right. I think we’d better pick the first and second crews next week and send them to training-table. It’s rather earlier than last year, but then we’re a bit more backward. Now, another thing. That fellow Jones is no earthly use in Taylor’s position; in the first place, he’s not varsity stuff; in the second place he can’t row to any remarkable extent, and there isn’t time to start in and teach him the rudiments of the art at this late day; in short, he’s out of the question. And I don’t know of any fellow that I care to try there. Do you?”
“Not unless it’s Garvier of the second,” answered Dick. “He’s got the weight and he’s hard-working; he pulls a rather good oar, too; only—well, I’m afraid he lacks sand.”
Kirk nodded and blew a volume of smoke toward the window.
“I’d thought of Garvier, but your estimate of him is just about mine; as you say, I don’t think he’s got enough grit for Seven. When you come down to it Seven needs almost as much hard horse-sense, coolness, and judgment as does Stroke. In fact, the style of the crew depends more on him than on Stroke. I believe I’d rather put up with a poor Stroke than a poor Number 7. No, decidedly Garvier won’t do. How about Crocker?”
“He might do, of course, only I think he’s about where he belongs now, don’t you, sir?”
“Yes, I suppose so, although—— Well, there seems to be but one thing to do.”