Holworthy Hall

“ McHenry limped to the sidelines, where some one enveloped him in a blanket. Sympathy poured into his ears—he was a great quarterback, they said, and it was an adjectived shame that he had to have such tough luck. At any rate—the juniors had already beaten the seniors, so the sophomores couldn't lose the series unless the seniors beat them next week—and so ad infinitum. ”

“ Sword. Carelessly he brushed aside the satire for the Lampoon—his soul was above such things. Out of a mass of similar papers he dug a bit of brownish pasteboard on which was his puerile record for the strength test—the test which every athlete must take before he may report as a candidate for any athletic team. And McHenry had accumulated 540 pounds out of the necessary 700!
"Deep!" said Pepper to himself. "Good Lord! What d'you mean—deep? What the mischief is deep? And clever?" He scrutinized the tell-tale figures closely, and pounded the desk again. ”

“ McHenry trailed after his mates to the haven of the locker building, and listened with admiration to the vocabulary of his friend Whittemore. The sophomores, said Whittemore, were a disgrace to the Grand Army. They played like a Class B team in the Epworth League on an off day. They ran with the speed of frightened rhinoceri, and they tried to tackle opponents by casting piercing glances at the enemy's retreating feet. They deserved to be beaten, and to be beaten would mean a triple tie for the series, and no numerals for anybody ”

“ But all I can do is to pull chest-weights in the gym, and run up to Porter Station and back with a crowd of greasy grinds every night—and you can get out on Soldiers' Field and whale the stuffing out of people! ”

“ Phillips glanced at the clock, which showed that his lecture was perilously near. He wasted one more match on his trusty pipe, and picked up his cap from the study table.
"I'm sorry, Pep—only I should think a man as deep and crafty as you are could get away with it somehow. Let's talk it over again—because if you could possibly get by your test next fall, you'd surely have a chance for the class team." He grinned hopefully, and went out, leaving McHenry still rehearsing the salient features of the paper cutter. ”

“ Two weeks' practice is quite sufficient for class football. Often it is too much. The sophomore team, which was admittedly certain to win the interclass series, and their numerals, went from bad to worse during those two weeks, so that if the work had lasted a few days longer, it would have gone from worse to impossible.
Contrary to the original opinion, McHenry didn't report again until the day before the first game, which was with the juniors. ”

“ THE DEPTH OF PEPPER McHENRY DURING the first week of Freshman year, someone said in the hearing of James Pepper McHenry that notwithstanding the popular rumors to the contrary, a lot of good men come from Yale. ”

“ The sophomores met the juniors on Tuesday, and aided by a prodigious amount of cheering, and some outrageous decisions by an incapable referee, ran the score up to 26-0 in the first half. McHenry, as an invaluable man, but one who was subject to injury, was kept on the sidelines, as befits a delicate organism. The intermission, however, was punctuated by such vociferous demands for Pepper that he was sent into the game to begin the second half. ”

“ The seniors, diagnosing the situation, punted as soon as they got the ball, and as the third-string man always dropped the ball, the rooters on the sidelines began to show the premonitory symptoms of heart-failure. Steadily the seniors advanced, gaining a few yards on every exchange of kicks ... they crossed the center line, and punted again ... and the quarterback dropped the ball! Kendall got it just in the nick of time. The sophomores kicked ... the seniors prepared to punt back. This time Whittemore held up his hand. ”

“ It's still the sophomores' ball!"
"Time!" shouted the head-linesman. "You're a fine fat bunch of officials, you are! You didn't blow your whistle for time out when this row started. Game's over! Sophomores win the series!" ”

“ McHenry caught the ball, and went down under a whirlwind tackle on the one yard line. He was dragged to his feet, and cast aside.
"Get out of the way!" said McHenry impotently. "Let me through here!"
He was behind the line; mechanically he gave the signal for Kendall to take the ball.
"No! No!" roared Whittemore, but he was too late. The ball was already in play; and McHenry, pivoting, saw his captain scrambling on the ground. The rest of the backfield, excited and unnerved, had over-run. McHenry felt hands grasping at his shoulder ... ”