route to Princeton. It was on the trip from Trenton to Lawrenceville, in the big stage coach loaded with boys, I got my first dose of homesickness. The prospect of new surroundings made me yearn for St. John's.

The "blue hour" of boyhood, however, is a brief one. I was soon engaged in conversation with a little fellow who was sitting beside me and who began discussing the ever-popular subject of football. He was very inquisitive and wanted to know if I had ever played the game, and if I was going to try for the team.

He told me about the great game Lawrenceville played with the Princeton Varsity the year before, when Lawrenceville scored six points before Princeton realized what they were really up against. He fascinated me by his graphic description. There was a glowing account of the playing of Garry Cochran, the great captain of the Lawrenceville team, who had just graduated and gone to Princeton, together with Sport Armstrong, the giant tackle.

These men were sure to live in Lawrenceville's history if for nothing else than the part they had played in that notable game, although Princeton rallied and won 8 to 6. It was not long before I learned that my newly-made friend was Billy McGibbon, a member of the Lawrenceville baseball team.

"Just wait until you see Charlie de Saulles and Billy Dibble play behind the line," he went on; and from that moment I began to be a part of the new life, the threshold of which I was crossing. Strangely enough the memory of getting settled in my new quarters faded with the eventful moment when the call for candidates came, and I went out with the rest of the boys to try for the team.

Competition was keen and many candidates offered themselves. I was placed on the scrub team. One of my first attempts for supremacy was in the early part of the season when I was placed as right guard of the scrub against Perry Wentz, an old star player of the school and absolutely sure of his position. I recall how on several occasions the first team could not gain as much distance through the second as the men desired, and Wentz, who later on distinguished himself on the Varsity at Princeton and still later as a crack player on Pennsylvania, seemed to have trouble in opening up my position.

Max Rutter, the Lawrenceville captain, with the directness that usually characterizes such officers, called this fact to Wentz's attention. Wentz, who probably felt naturally his pride of football fame, became quite angry at Rutter's remark that he was being outplayed. He took off his nose-guard, threw it on the ground and left the field.

Rutter moved me over to the first team in Wentz's place. That night there was a general upset on the team which was settled amicably, however, and the next day Wentz continued playing in his old place. The position of guard was given to me on the other side of the line, George Cadwalader being moved out to the position of tackle. This was the same Cadwalader who subsequently went to Yale and made a great name for himself on the gridiron, in spite of the fact that he remained at New Haven but one year.

It was here at Lawrenceville that this great player made his reputation as a goal kicker, a fame that was enhanced during his football days at Yale. Max Rutter, the captain of the Lawrenceville team, went to Williams and played on the Varsity, eventually becoming captain there also. Ned Moffat, nephew of Princeton's great Alex Moffat, played end rush.

About this time I began to realize that Billy McGibbon had given me a correct line on Charlie de Saulles and Billy Dibble. These two players worked wonderfully well together, and were an effective scoring machine with the assistance of Doc MacNider and Dave Davis.

During these days at Lawrenceville Owen Johnson gathered the material for those interesting stories in which he used his old schoolmates for the characters. The thin disguise of Doc Macnooder does not, however, conceal Doc MacNider from his old schoolboy friends. The same is true of the slightly changed names of Garry Cochran, Turk Righter, Charlie de Saulles and Billy Dibble.

Charlie de Saulles, after graduation, went to Yale and continued his wonderful, spectacular career on the gridiron. We will spend an afternoon with him on the Yale field later.

Billy Dibble went to Williams and played a marvelous game until he was injured, early in his freshman year. It was during those days that I met Garry Cochran, Sport Armstrong and other Princeton coaches for the first time. They used to come over to assist in coaching our team. Our regular coaches at Lawrenceville were Walter B. Street, who had been a famous football star years before at Williams, and William J. George, renowned in Princeton's football history as a center-rush. I cannot praise the work of these men too highly. They were thoroughbreds in every sense of the word.

It was one of the old traditions of Lawrenceville football to have a game every year with Pennington Seminary. What man is there who attended either school who does not recall the spirit of those old-time contests?

The Hill School was another of our football rivals. The trip to Pottstown, Pa., was an event eagerly looked forward to—so also was the Hill School's return game at Lawrenceville. The rivalry between the two schools was keen.

Everything possible was done at the Hill School to make our visit a pleasant one. The score of 28 to 0, by which Lawrenceville won the game that year, made it especially pleasant.

As I recall that trip, two men stand out in my memory. One was John Meigs, the Head Master. The other was Mike Sweeney, the Trainer and Athletic Director. They were the two central figures of Hill School traditions.

Interest in football was emphasized at that time by the approaching game with Andover at Lawrenceville. This was the first time that these two teams had ever played. Andover was probably more renowned in football annals than any school Lawrenceville had played up to this time. The Lawrenceville coaches realized that the game would be a strenuous one. After a conference, the two coaches decided that it would be wise to see Andover play at Andover the week before we were to play them. Accordingly, Mr. George went to Andover, and when he returned, he gathered the team around him in one of the recitation halls and described carefully the offense and defense of our coming opponents. He also demonstrated with checkers what each man did in every play and placed emphasis on the work of Eddie Holt, who was acting captain of the Andover team. To represent Holt's giant build he placed one checker on top of another, saying, as I remember, with great seriousness:

"This topped checker represents Holt. He must be taken care of, and it will require two Lawrenceville men to stop him on every play. I am certain of this for Holt was a marvel last Saturday."

During the week we drilled secretly and most earnestly in anticipation of defeating Andover. The game attracted an unusually large number of spectators. Lawrenceville made it a gala day for its alumni, and all the old Andover and Lawrenceville boys who could get there witnessed the game.

When the Andover team ran out upon the field we were all anxious to see how big Holt loomed up. He certainly was a giant and towered high above the other members of his team. Soon the whistle blew, and the trouble was on. In memory now I can see Billy Dibble circling Andover's end for twenty-five yards, scoring a touchdown amid tremendous excitement.

This all transpired during the first minute and a half of play. Emerson once said, "We live by moments," and the first minute and a half of that game must stand out as one of the eventful