“If only we had a couple of good ends,” lamented Hoop.
“Oh, you dry up and blow away! Say, Hoop, is it true that Brooksie is going to let you carry the water pail today?”
“If I do you won’t get any of it!”
“And you won’t be able to carry it if you don’t stop eating pretty soon. Better speak to him, Sandy. That’s his third dip in the mash.”
“That’s a whopper,” growled Hoop. “I’ve only had potatoes twice; haven’t I, Marm?”
“I don’t know, Hoop, but they won’t hurt you, surely. Potatoes never hurt anyone. Vegetarians always eat lots of potatoes.”
“So do Episcopalians,” murmured Spud. “Pass ’em this way, please, somebody.”
“You’d all better go slow on eating,” cautioned Sandy. “The game will be called in an hour and a half.”
“Pshaw, I’ll be hungry again by that time,” said Dutch.
At half-past one they set out for the gymnasium, all save Clara, who had promised to take Molly over to see the game and who went over to the Curtis’s to get her. Even Mrs. Linn was going, but couldn’t leave her house yet. As the first contest had taken place on the Hall gridiron, today’s was scheduled for the House field. On each side settees from the gymnasium were being strung along for the accommodation of the audience, a small and select one. The faculty, in order to avoid any appearance of partiality, distributed themselves on both sides of the gridiron. Today Doctor Webster and his family were seated amongst the Hall supporters, while Mr. Spander, Mr. Kendall, and Mr. Fordyce, although residents of the Hall, were mingling with the wearers of the red. Mr. James, attired in a pair of gray trousers and an old Dartmouth sweater, was to referee. The umpire was a man from the village. The afternoon was bright and fairly warm, with a mild westerly breeze down the field. The scene was a very pretty one, the red and blue of the players scattered over the green field and of the substitutes on the side-lines supplying spots of vivid color.