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"To be sure and sartin I does," answered little Dummie, walking to the table where the robber sat. "Does not you know I?" Ned regarded the interrogator with a sullen glance, which gradually brightened into knowledge. "Ah!" said he, with the air of a Brummel, "Mr. Bummie, or Dummie, I think, eh! Shake a paw, I'm glad to see you. Recollect the last time I saw you, you rather affronted me.
Needless to say that Arthur Poe kept out of sight until Jack retired for the night. A trainer's life is not all pleasure. Once after the train had started from Princeton this same devilish Arthur Poe, as Jack would call him, rushed up forward to where Jack was sitting in the train and said: "Jack, I don't see Bummie Booth anywhere on the train. I guess he must have been left behind."
Snake Ames also prepared at Lawrenceville. I might incidentally state that we stayed at Lawrenceville until June to get our diplomas, realizing that there were many able fellows to continue the successful traditions of Lawrenceville football, George Mattis, Howard Richards, Jack de Saulles, Cliff Bucknam, John De Witt, Bummie Ritter, Dana Kafer, John Dana, Charlie Dudley, Heff Herring, Charlie Raymond, Biglow, the Waller brothers and others.
Bummie Booth, who had stood the strain of the contest wonderfully well, and had played a grand game against Hale, gave way to Horace Bannard, brother of Bill Bannard, the famous Princeton halfback of '98. It was no wonder that Princeton was downcast when McBride scored the touchdown and the goal was about to be kicked.
Eddie Holt, Bert Wheeler, Arthur Poe, Doc Hillebrand, Bummie Booth and I were in the front ranks of the class of 1900, stationed back of Witherspoon Hall ready to make the rush upon the sophomores, who were huddled together guarding the cannon. Cochran and his coterie of coachers ran out as we were approaching the cannon and forced us out of the contest.
He had gone from Andover to Harvard and had played on the Harvard team the year before, and had decided to leave Harvard and enter Princeton. There were Lew Palmer, Bummie Booth, Arthur Poe, Bert Wheeler, Eddie Burke and many others whom I grew to know well later on. Trainer Jack McMasters was on the job and put us through some very severe preliminary training.
"To be sure and sartin I does," answered little Dummie, walking to the table where the robber sat. "Does not you know I?" Ned regarded the interrogator with a sullen glance, which gradually brightened into knowledge. "Ah!" said he, with the air of a Brummel, "Mr. Bummie, or Dummie, I think, eh! Shake a paw, I'm glad to see you. Recollect the last time I saw you, you rather affronted me.
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