THE MAGIC FOOTBALL
A FAIRY TALE OF TO-DAY
I
“I wish,” murmured Tommy Piper, “they’d let me play!”
It was a chill, cloudy November afternoon, and Tommy, sprawled in the big armchair in front of the library fire, was very unhappy. Things hadn’t gone well to-day at school, where the teachers had been horribly unjust to him, nor at home, where he had been scolded for arriving late for dinner; Billy Blue, his most particular chum, was confined to the house with double mumps, and, to add to the burden of his woes, or to remind him of the principal one, half a dozen fellows, togged and sweatered, carrying a battle-scarred football and dangling their head guards, had just passed the window on their way to the field to practice for the final and all-important game of the year, that with Meadowville.
Usually Tommy went along, envious but interested, to watch the luckier boys at work, but to-day he was at outs with the world. What was most awfully wrong was that George Marquis, captain of the Hillside eleven, refused to perceive in Tommy the qualities desired in a member of that gallant band of gridiron warriors. George said that Tommy was much too light for either line or backfield, while grudgingly acknowledging that he could kick and was fast on his toes. Consequently, Tommy, who all summer long had looked forward almost breathlessly to securing a position at the end of the line or as a back, had been—and still was—horribly disappointed. Of course he realized that he was pretty light—he was only thirteen, you see, and by no means large for his age—but he was quite convinced that he was clever enough at punting and drop-kicking and carrying the ball to atone for his lack of weight. But Captain Marquis didn’t think so, and Tommy was out of it for another year at least.
He had been trying to read a story that was all about school life and football, but he didn’t want his fun at second-hand to-day. He wanted to make history himself! The book toppled unnoticed to the hearth rug and Tommy went off into a wonderful daydream, his round eyes fixed entrancedly on the glowing coals in the grate. He saw himself playing right halfback for Hillside in the Thanksgiving Day game with Meadowville, making sensational rushes, kicking marvelous goals from the field, cheered and applauded, a veritable football hero if ever there was one! When, after an hour of desperate battle, Hillside had conquered, and Tommy, on the shoulders of admiring comrades, was being carried from the field, he woke from his daydream with a sigh.
“I wish,” he said longingly, addressing no one in particular, since there was no one there, but gazing very intently at the gloomy corner of the room where lounge and bookcase met and formed a cavern of shadow, “I wish I could do all that! Gee, but I do wish I could!”