He was a nice old chap, was Billy Mathews. He's president of a Western
railroad now." Joel laughed.
"That bonfire must have made as much commotion as some of the explosions
in Number 15, Mr. Remsen."
"Hello! Are my efforts in pursuit of science still remembered here? Who
told you about that, March?"
"Mrs. Cowles. She said you were forever doing something terrible, but
that you were such a _nice_ boy." Remsen laughed heartily as he replied:
"Well, don't pattern your conduct on mine or Mathews's, March. We
weren't a very well-behaved lot, I fear. But I don't believe our pranks
did much harm. In those days football wasn't as popular as it is to-day,
at Hillton, and fellows couldn't work off their surplus animal spirits
thumping a pigskin as they can now. Football is a great benefactor in
that way, March. It has done away with hazing and street brawls and gate
stealing and lots of other deviltry. By the way, how are you getting on
with the game?"
"I think I'm getting the hang of it, sir. I'm having a hard time with
drop kicking, but I guess I'll learn after a while."
"I'm sure you will. I'm going to have Blair give you a bit of coaching
in it next week. He'll have more time then, after he has finished with
this golf business. Don't get discouraged. Peg away. It's worth the
work, March, and you have the making of a good back as soon as you learn
how to kick a goal and run a little faster. And whenever you're puzzled
about anything come to me and we'll work it out together.
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