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Updated: June 1, 2025
March, with her hand on her husband's arm, begged him to sit down and "stop acting so silly." "Geewhillikins!" cried Mr. March, "Joel's caught! No, he's not yet Eh? Too bad, too bad. Run, Joel, he's got ye!" Suddenly Mr. March, who had almost subsided on his seat, jumped again to his feet. "Here! Stop that, you fellow! Hi!" He turned angrily to Outfield, his eyes blazing.
"The school's going to the dogs," he had complained. "Examinations aren't nearly as hard as they were when I entered." The third day, when he had kicked that football down the field, and, later, had made the acquaintance of Outfield West, seemed now to have been the turning point from gloom to sunshine.
Nevertheless, his manner of getting down the field under kicks undoubtedly impressed the coaches favorably, for when the scrub was further pruned to allow it to go to training table Joel was retained. One bright October day Joel and Outfield went into town to meet the former's parents at the station; for Mr. and Mrs.
March had not quite recovered from his resentment over his son's failure to apprise him of the broken finger, which, after all, was only broken in West's imagination, and viewed his advent on the field with disfavor. Outfield began to wonder if his pleasant fiction regarding Joel's finger was to lead to unpleasant results, when Mr.
But Joel went at golf as he went at everything else, bending all his energies thereto, and driving thought of all else from his mind, and so soon became, if not an expert, at least a very acceptable player who won commendation from even West and where golf was concerned Outfield was a most unbiased and unsympathetic judge.
Joel took the preliminary examination for Harwell University in June, and left class day morning for home. He had the satisfaction of seeing his name in the list of honor men for the year, having attained A or B in all studies for the three terms. The parting with Outfield West was shorn of much of its melancholy by reason of the latter's promise to visit Joel in August.
"First's ball down here," cried Greer, and play went on; but Joel had lost his taste for it, and when, a few minutes later, neither side having scored again, time was called, he trotted back to the gymnasium in a depressed mood. "You did great work," exclaimed Outfield West, as he joined Joel on the river path. "That settles Cloud's chances.
Up one side of the yard and down the other went the sightseers, poking into dark hallways, reading tablets and inscriptions, the latter translated by West into the most startling English, pausing before the bulletins to have the numerous announcements of society and club meetings explained, drinking from the old pump in the corner, and so completing the circuit and storming the gymnasium, where at last Joel's powers of reply were exhausted and Outfield promptly sprang into the breech, explaining gravely that the mattresses on the floor were used by Doctor Major, the director of the gymnasium, who invariably took a cat-nap during the afternoon, that the suspended rings were used to elevate sophomores while corporeal punishment was administered by freshmen, and that the queer little weights in the boxes around the walls were reserve paper weights.
Tuttle, maybe they'll let you play with the scrub, so Grant can occupy the right-hand pasture." This arrangement was quickly made, the captain of the scrub team having filled his outfield positions with youngsters who were even weaker than Tuttle.
And certainly their memories are still green. But everywhere I went it was: 'Have you heard from Outfield West? 'How's West getting on at college? And strange to say, such inquiries were not confined to the fellows alone. Professor Wheeler asked after West particularly, and so did Briggs, and several others of the faculty; and Mrs. Cowles as well. "But you are still the hero there, March.
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