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Updated: May 10, 2025
"Go on," Florence urged. "Patty, you got to." "Well, then, if I got to," said Patty. "What I was going to say, Florence: Don't you think your cousin Herbert and Henry Rooter have got the nicest eyes of any boy in town?" "Who?" Florence was astounded. "I do," Patty said in her charming voice. "I think Herbert and Henry've got the nicest eyes of any boy in town." "You do?"
On the day of the Springfield Training School game, most of the Harvard coaches went down to New Haven, leaving the team in charge of Campbell and Kennard's other rooter. The psychological moment had arrived.
A Columbia man who is always on hand for the big games of the year is Charles Halstead Mapes, the ever reliable, loyal rooter for the game. He has told the tale of this victory so wonderfully well that football enthusiasts cannot but enjoy this enthusiastic Columbia version. "Fifteen years ago Yale was supreme in football," runs Mapes' story.
Yes, a thief, O Rooter in the mud, O Feeder on filth and worms, O Hog of the gutter the Baas, the clipping of whose nail is worth more than you and all your family, he whose honour is as clear as the sunlight and whose heart is cleaner than the white sand of the sea." "Yes, I did," roared the white man; "for he got my money in the gold mine." "Then, hog, why did you run away.
"You are a pretty one!" he said; but his intention was perceived to be far indeed from his words. "Oh, am I, Mister Herbert Atwater?" Florence responded. "I'm awf'ly glad you think so!" "I mean about what Henry Rooter said," her cousin explained.
My goodness mercy, mamma, I don't want to 'play' with 'em! I'm more than four years old, I guess; though you don't ever seem willing to give me credit for it. I don't haf to 'play' all the time, mamma: and anyway, Herbert and that nasty little Henry Rooter aren't playing, either." "Aren't they?" Mrs. Atwater inquired.
But the purchaser must remove the goods from the premises forthwith, to make room for three man-eating tigers, a cat-headed gorilla, and an armful of rattlesnakes." But the Showman passed on, in maiden meditation, fancy free, and being joined soon afterward by the Bear, who was absently picking his teeth, it was inferred that they were not unacquainted. The Ineffective Rooter
"I wish to make just one last simple remark that I would care to soil myself with in your respects, Mister Herbert Illingsworth Atwater and Mister Henry Rooter!" "Oh, say not so, Florence!" they both entreated. "Say not so! Say not so!" "I'll just simply state the simple truth," Florence announced.
"And that Rooter boy," Noble said sadly. "I think maybe your little niece Florence has something to do with it, too." "'Something' to do with it? She usually has all to do with anything she gets hold of! But what's it got to do with me?" "You'll see!" he prophesied accurately.
"How often we got to tell you we don't want you around here when we're in our office like this?" "For Heaven's sake!" Henry Rooter thought fit to add. "Can't you quit runnin' up and down our office stairs once in a while, long enough for us to get our newspaper work done? Can't you give us a little peace?"
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