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Harry Brown, that great Princeton end-rush, is on the other end of the bench, being taken care of by Bill Buss, a jovial old colored attendant, who was for so many years a rubber at Princeton. I know men who never enthuse over football, but just play from a sense of college loyalty, and a fear of censure should they not play; who are sorry that they were ever big or showed any football ability.
Jim Rodgers had blocked Johnnie Baird's punt and Bass, the alert end-rush, had pounced on the ball and was over for a touchdown in a moment. Great groans went up from the Princeton grandstand. Could it be that this great acknowledged champion team of Princeton was conceited, over-trained and about to be defeated?
Bill Church the great tackle broke through the Harvard line and blocked Brown's kick, and the ever-watchful end-rush, Howard Brokaw, fell on the ball for a touchdown. Cochran had been injured and removed from the game, but he was frantic with joy as he walked up and down the Princeton side lines, urging further touchdowns.
Bob Corwin, who was end-rush, only second to Wallace in his ability, was captain of the team. The result was that the touchdown was allowed. Thereupon the crowd all came onto the field and we were not able to clear it for some 10 or 15 minutes, so that there was not time enough to finish the full 45 minutes of the second-half of the game before dark.
The Lawrenceville backfield, made up of Powell, Dave Davis, Cap Kafer and Dibble, worked wonderfully well. Kafer did some excellent punting against his remarkable opponent Barker, who seemed to be as expert as he. The efficient work of Hillebrand and of Chadwell, the colored end-rush, stands out pre-eminently.
Playing so wonderfully well the end-rush position, his alertness in falling on the ball often meant much distance for Yale. He had wonderful judgment in deciding whether to fall on the ball or pick it up. One of the most important things in football is knowing how to tackle properly. Some men take to it naturally and others only learn after hard, strenuous practice.
A murmur of applause took the place of the derisive laugh, and Blair glanced curiously at the former right end-rush of the Felton Grammar School. "Yes, that's pretty fair. Some day with hard practice you may make a kicker." Several of the older fellows smiled knowingly. It was Blair's way of nipping conceit in the bud. "What class are you in?"
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