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Updated: June 28, 2025


Harvard's good showing thus far during the season convinced Erskine that could she hold the crimson warriors down to five scores she would be doing remarkably well, and that could she, by any miracle, cross Harvard's goal-line she would be practically victorious.

"It is a strange coincidence that the first of Harvard's string of victories against Yale was won by two men who a few weeks before the game were in the so-called football discard." No greater honor can be accorded a football man than the invitation to come back to his Alma Mater and take charge of the football situation.

As Stephen's admiration for his employer grew, his fear of him waxed greater likewise. The Judge's methods of teaching law were certainly not Harvard's methods. For a fortnight he paid as little attention to the young man as he did to the messengers who came with notes and cooled their heels in the outer office until it became the Judge's pleasure to answer them.

The place of that bronze at the corner of Boston Common was as yet empty, but I have since stood before it to gaze in wonder at the light shining in darkness on mute, uplifted faces, black faces! at Harvard's son leading them on that the light might live and prevail.

The first to come to mind are Laurie Bliss of the Yale teams of '90, '91 and '92 and "Pop" Bliss of the '92 team, principally, I think, because of Laurie's wonderful end running behind interference and because "Pop" Bliss, at a crucial moment in a Harvard-Yale game deliberately disobeyed the signal to plunge through centre on Harvard's 2-yard line and ingeniously ran around the end for a touchdown.

Then there was more cheering, and the freshmen of 'Umpty-eight were entirely happy. The man who followed Frank promptly flied out to first, which quenched the enthusiasm of the Yale gang somewhat and gave Harvard's admirers an opportunity to make a noise. Frank longed to get in his score, which would leave Harvard with a lead of but one. He felt that he must get home some way.

If Jeff has any nonsense in him, it will take it out; and I don't believe there's anything in Harvard, as Harvard, to make him worse." "That's what we both think," said Jackson. "I've heard," Westover continued, and he rose and stood while he spoke, "that Harvard's like the world. A man gets on there on the same terms that he gets on in the world.

Harvard's College, in Massachusetts, had apparently done no more for the New Englanders, in 1692, than the Seminary of Quebec, in the way of diffusing a knowledge of letters among the people, from which the desire for freedom invariably springs, had done for Canada. The people of Salem, Andover, Ipswich, Gloucester, and even Boston, were accusing each other of witchcraft.

We were not there for that beauty, however, but for John Harvard's sake; yet no sooner were we fairly inside the church than our thoughts were rapt from him to such clearer fames as those of Philip Massinger, the dramatist; Edmund Shakespeare, the great Shakespeare's younger brother; John Fletcher, of the poetic firm of Beaumont and Fletcher; the poet Edward Dyer; and yet again the poet John Gower, the "moral Gower" who so insufficiently filled the long gap between Chaucer and Spencer, and who rests here with a monument and a painted effigy over him.

Harvard's books are gone, nor does anything now remain of the first buildings "so faire and comely within and without." But the memory of the old founders and their wonderful purpose and energy is still kept green, and over the chief entrance of the present buildings are carved some words taken from a writer of those times.

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