CHEERS AND SONGS
“But this paper,” said Gerald, kicking the offending sheet from the
window seat to the floor, “says Nordham outplayed us. I don’t think
that’s fair. Do you, sir?”
“Well, didn’t they outplay us, Pennimore?” asked Mr. Payson who had
dropped into Number 28 for a visit after church. “They won, and there
were no flukes that I saw.”
“But if we’d kicked the goals after our touchdowns――”
“But we didn’t, and they outplayed us right there. There’s no use being
disgruntled and trying to deceive yourselves into thinking that it was
a case of hard luck, for it wasn’t. What do you say, Vinton?”
“Oh, I suppose they outplayed us,” answered Dan wearily. “We were away
ahead of them at straight football, but――”
“‘Straight football,’” repeated the coach with a smile. “By that you
mean bucking the line, I suppose. But that isn’t any ‘straighter’ than
any other sort of football nowadays, Vinton. No, sir, Nordham has a
remarkable team, a team built around two fast backs and weak in the
line, to be sure, but I take my hat off to that coach over there. And
to that quarter of theirs, too. He’s a little marvel, Vinton.”
“Wish we had him,” muttered Dan.
“Um; if we had we’d have to make our team over. Of course Nordham had
this advantage over us yesterday; they could play to their limit, since
their big game is two weeks off, while we were obliged to hold back our
best plays on account of Broadwood. She had at least four assistant
coaches and players there yesterday, but I don’t think they learned
much.”
“They’ll eat us up next Saturday,” sighed Dan moodily.
“Perhaps, but I don’t think so. If they played the sort of game Nordham
plays they might beat us, for we haven’t learned a defense against a
running game. But Broadwood must play about the sort of game we played
yesterday. Her backs are heavy, line-smashing fellows and Saturday’s
game will be pretty much all what you just called ‘straight football.’
On the whole, Vinton, we didn’t do so badly to hold Nordham to three
scores yesterday. She might have run us off our feet with that tricky
game of hers.”
“Has Broadwood some good kickers this year?” asked Gerald.
“She’s still got Rhodes,” said Dan. “You remember him last year, don’t
you?”
“I don’t believe,” said the coach, “that we need fear goals from field.
They’ve only scored two all season.”
“One of those was a fluke,” added Dan.
“What we’ve got to watch out for are forward passes. They’ve been
getting off some fine ones lately. They gained eighty yards in the
Forest Hill game by forward passes. How is Stearns this morning?”
“A bit lame,” replied Dan. “He will be all right to-morrow, I guess.”
“We’ll let him lay off to-morrow. It will be light work for all unless
this weather changes. It’s almost like summer to-day. Well, I must be
getting back. How are you feeling, Vinton?”
“All right,” was the reply.
“How’s the ankle?”
“Oh, it was just a twist. It feels pretty good to-day.”
“Well, go easy on it and give it a good rubbing to-night. We got
through yesterday very well as far as injuries go. Going to lick
Broadwood cross-country Saturday, Pennimore?”
“Yes, sir, hard,” answered Gerald with conviction. “We’ve got a dandy
team this year. Ryan picked the fellows last week.”
“Glad to hear it. That will mean two defeats for the Green on Saturday.
Well, I’ll see you to-morrow, Vinton. Good morning.”
The next afternoon, as the weather still held warm, all those who had
played for more than a period in the Nordham game were sent around
the track a few times and then discharged for the day. But there was
a hard battle between the First Team substitutes and the Second Team,
and Kendall got into it for a whole ten-minute period. I can’t say that
he especially distinguished himself, although he worked as hard as he
knew how. But there were a great many fine points about the duties of
a half-back that Kendall had never heard of, and it seemed to him that
he came in for more than his share of criticism. The two teams battled
through three ten-minute periods without a score on either side.
On Tuesday hard work began again and Mr. Payson sought to correct
some of the faults shown in the Nordham contest. The two-day rest had
brought the players around in fine shape and the spirit shown argued
well for the team’s success. Only Dan was disappointing that day.
He was badly off his game and seemed in a very low frame of mind.
Mr. Payson watched him closely, and so did Andy Ryan, the trainer.
The coach trusted that he would pull around by the morrow, but on
Wednesday, the final day of real work, Dan was still listless and
dumpy. After supper that evening Mr. Payson dropped into Number 28
Clarke again.
“Hello!” said Dan, who was half-heartedly going over his Greek, “I was
just going down to see you.”
“I thought I’d save you the trouble. Good evening, Pennimore. How are
you?”
“Very well, thank you, sir. I wish Dan felt as well.”
Dan frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with me, Gerald, so please cut it
out.”
“You don’t look terribly bright and cheerful,” said Mr. Payson
smilingly. “Sleeping all right?”
“Pretty fair,” answered Dan.
“He’s fibbing, sir,” said Gerald. “He was awake about half of last
night. Twice I woke up and found him reading.”
“For goodness’ sake, Gerald, mind your own business,” said Dan crossly.
“I’m no baby. What if I did read a while? I wasn’t sleepy.”
“Well, but that won’t do, Vinton, and you know it as well as I do,”
said Mr. Payson quietly. “We can’t have you getting nervous now. Too
much depends on your being in good shape Saturday.”
“Oh, I’ll be all right, sir,” answered Dan impatiently.
“Of course. Well, let’s talk about to-morrow if you have time. I
suppose we’ll have to go through the motions of practice for the sake
of the school, eh?”
“Oh, yes, sir,” said Dan. “They’re going to march down to the field as
usual and shout themselves hoarse. There was some talk of having the
band up.”
“Well, we’ll call practice for four o’clock then. That’ll give us
fifteen or twenty minutes of it. And that reminds me.” He took out a
memorandum book and made a note in it. “I’m going to have Fogg and
Girard go down early and practice passing to Simms and Holmes. Fogg was
a bit ragged Saturday.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Dan. “And Norton ought to have a good half
hour at goal practice.”
“We’ll have him try a few kicks, Vinton, but I don’t want to shove
him too hard. We’ve got the fellows just about on edge and some of
them, fellows like Norton, are likely to go over if we push them too
much. But I guess a couple of dozen drop-kicks won’t hurt him. I hope,
though, that we won’t have to rely on Norton to score. I think that by
next fall he will be a pretty good drop-kicker, if he’s willing to
keep at it and practice.”
“I wish he could do it now,” said Dan bitterly. “With all the fellows
in this school it certainly seems as if there might be one able to lift
the ball over the goal once out of ten times!”
“It does seem so, and that’s a fact,” Mr. Payson agreed. “I don’t
believe I ever knew of a team so weak in the kicking department of the
game. It’s largely my fault, of course, but I had no idea that Hammel
was going to peter out as he has. Last year he was full of promise.
However, we’re no worse off than Broadwood. And I daresay that if
we get the ball within field goal distance we can shove it over by
rushing.”
“We’ll have to,” said Dan dryly.
“I’m afraid so. Well, Cowles is coming down to see me this evening and
I’ll have to go on. By the way, Vinton, how would you like to take a
vacation to-morrow?”
“A vacation?” asked Dan in surprise.
“Yes. I mean pack your bag and run off somewhere to-morrow after
practice and stay until Saturday morning. You aren’t needed here and
it will do you a lot of good to get away from things for a couple of
nights. You’ll sleep better, for one thing, and eat better, too.”
“Oh, pshaw, I don’t want to do that! I’m all right, sir. I’ll sleep
like a top to-night. Besides, I’d worry more away than if I was here
where I could watch things.”
“There won’t be anything to watch,” said Mr. Payson with a smile.
“Think it over, Vinton. It would be the best thing for you and for the
team. We’ll talk about it to-morrow. Good night.”
“Anybody would think I was dying from the way he talks,” said Dan
irritably when the coach had gone. “That would be a fine idea, wouldn’t
it?”
“What?” asked Gerald.
“Why, to go off and leave things just before the game!”
“I think it would be a mighty good idea,” replied Gerald firmly. “And I
wish you’d do it, Dan.”
“Well, I’m not going to! Payson won’t get me away from here unless he
steals me, I can tell you that!”
And that was Dan’s answer the next day when the coach brought the
subject up again, although Dan put it more politely. Mr. Payson said,
“Just as you say, Vinton,” and changed the subject, and Dan, who had
slept about four hours out of nine, told himself aggrievedly that
Payson didn’t care whether he was all right or not!
But Payson did care, and he had been doing a good deal of thinking and
some acting, as Dan was to discover.
The entire school marched to the field that afternoon and cheered
and sang for the better part of two hours. The band didn’t come, but
it wasn’t missed. The First Team went through ten minutes of signal
work, did some punting and catching and then retired. After that the
substitutes played a ten-minute game with the Second. It wasn’t much
of a contest, but nobody cared. Enthusiasm reigned and from the stands
came football songs and cheers. When the whistle blew the Second Team
gathered together and cheered the First, and the First Team substitutes
cheered the Second, and the last day of practice was over. The
spectators formed in line of march again and tramped back up the hill
to the gymnasium, still singing, in the wake of the players:
“All together! Cheer on cheer!
Now we’re charging down the field!
See how Broadwood pales with fear,
Knowing we will never yield!
Wave on high your banners blue,
Cheer for comrades staunch and true;
We are here to die or do,
Fighting for Old Yardley!
“All together! Cheer on cheer!
Victory is ours to-day!
Raise your voices loud and clear!
Yardley pluck has won the fray!
See, the vanquished foeman quails;
All his vaunted courage fails!
Flaunt the Blue that never pales,
Fighting for Old Yardley!”
In front of the gymnasium the crowd gathered and began the cheers
for the players. “Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah!
Vinton!” Then Ridge, and Hammel, and Simms and so on down to the last
substitute. And then, “Three cheers for Coach Payson, fellows, and
make it good!” And after that three cheers for Andy Ryan, and finally,
“Now, fellows, nine times three for the Team!” And after that, with
hoarse but undiscouraged voices, a long cheer for “Yardley! _Yardley!!_
YARDLEY!!!” And then, still singing, the procession wound around the
front of the buildings and stopped in front of Oxford and gave a cheer
for the Principal. (The mere fact that Doctor Hewitt was away for the
winter made no difference. They were following the custom.) And then
more cheers, and much laughter, and some horseplay, and the throng
broke up to descend presently on the supper tables and sweep them
clear.
At nine there was a mass meeting in the Assembly Hall and the
enthusiasm began again. Mr. Payson spoke and was cheered to the echo,
and Mr. Collins spoke and was cheered just as liberally, and then there
came a loud, insistent demand for “Vinton! We want Vinton!” And after a
moment Mr. Payson arose and announced that the captain was not present
this evening and that he thought it would be a good idea to hear from
the quarter-back. Simms tried to escape, but was captured after a
struggle and lifted none too gently onto the stage, where he stood and
viewed the audience helplessly for a full minute, very much embarrassed
indeed. And the more embarrassed he got the more they laughed and the
louder they cheered. Desperation brought ingenuity. One moment Simms
was there and the next he was gone! A sudden dash across the stage to
the door of the dressing-room and he was free! Howls of glee filled the
hall, and some of the fellows near the entrance started up in pursuit,
but were discouraged by older heads.
Ridge, who was a good talker, and whom the fellows all liked,
took Simms’s place and spoke for a few minutes. After that the
football songs were practiced, the Banjo and Mandolin Club supplying
accompaniment. Finally, with a last resounding cheer, the meeting broke
up, the members clattering down the stairs and out of the building
still singing. Then the cry for Vinton was renewed and was taken up by
two hundred throats: “We want Vinton. We want Vinton! We want Vinton!”
Presently the throng swirled over to the front of Clarke and the cry
was hurled up at the lighted window of Number 28. But the football
captain didn’t appear and a half-dozen fellows rushed up the stairs
in search of him. But they were soon back, for the room was empty. So
they cheered him instead, and finally the throng dissolved, the fellows
seeking their rooms. Snatches of song, bursts of laughter, faint cheers
floated from open windows for a while, and then one by one the lights
went out and Yardley became silent.
It is a good plan to celebrate in advance. One never knows what may
happen.