“Here you are,” he said, dumping the things in Cal’s lap. “Shirt, breeches and stockings. I haven’t any boots, but I guess you can use what you’ve got for awhile. These things aren’t new by any means, but I guess they’ll last the season out. You can get Mrs. Linn to patch that place in the jersey.”
“But—but I oughtn’t to take these,” stammered Cal.
“Yes, you ought. Now look here, Boland. I don’t want to be nasty, but honestly you haven’t any business to act like this. You’re a new boy, and I guess that explains it, though. At that, Boland, you’ve been here long enough to know things. Haven’t they told you that we don’t shirk duty here at Oak Park? I suppose it’s Sanderson that’s at fault; he’s a good deal of a duffer, to my mind. Tell him so if you want to. It’s a shame you West Housers haven’t got another chap for Leader over there.”
“Sandy’s all right,” said Cal with a scowl. Brooks smiled.
“Well, I’m glad you’ve got that far,” he said. “At least you’ve learned to stand up for your House. But hasn’t Sandy told you that every fellow is expected to take hold and work for his House? That with us it’s House first, School next and self nowhere?”
“Ned Brent said something like that,” answered Cal.
“Yes, Ned would. Why don’t you do as Ned does, then? You want House to win, don’t you?”
“Of course,” answered Cal indignantly.
“Well, why don’t you help us then instead of sulking? What if football practice is hard? I know it well enough. I’ve been all through the—the drudgery, just as you are going. It isn’t any harder for us than it is for Hall, though. It isn’t any harder for you than it is for any other new boy. And after you’ve learned you’ll get a whole lot of pleasure out of it.”
“But it don’t seem to me,” muttered Cal, “that I ever can learn. I cal’late I’m no good at football.”