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Updated: June 3, 2025
John Buchanan developed into a very fair half-back, and was selected to appear against Ireland last spring, he was included in the present match under notice as a forward, and I think he then played on the right. He was the fastest dribbler in the team, and a capital tackler.
Leaping forward, with all the adroitness of the born tackler, he caught that cane, just as it descended, and wrenched it out of Phin Drayne's cowardly, hand. Crack! Dick broke it in two across his knee, then tossed the pieces into the street. "You'll never be able to do anything better than a sneaky act," muttered Dick contemptuously, turning to walk on.
He dived through the brush like a football tackler. A gun barked. The little man did not even know it. He and the thug went down together, rolled over, clawed furiously at each other, and got to their feet simultaneously. But the cowpuncher held the gun now. The crook glared at him for a moment, and bolted for the safety of the bushes in wild flight.
Sitting smiling by the window, he looked as if he had lots of fun in him, if he only had a fair chance of letting it off. He told us that he was a "tackler" by trade. A tackler is one who fettles looms when they get out of order. "Couldn't you get on at Horrocks's?" said my friend. "Naw," replied he; "they'n not ha' men-weighvers theer." The wife said," We're a deal better off than some.
Then he dived in behind the interference for a circuit of the right end. Two Princeton men broke through as if they had been shot out of mortars, but the Yale full-back had turned and was ploughing straight ahead. Pulled down, dragging the tackler who clung to his waist, he floundered to earth with most of the Princeton team piled above him.
He would be game as far as he understood. That was plain. It was equally plain that he did not understand yet what was expected of him. Pat McCluny, thick of neck, brutal of jaw, low-browed, red of face, blunt of speech, the finest, most unmerciful tackler on the football team, stepped up to Stephen and said a few words in a low tone.
Penrose, as aw were peepin' through th' hoile i' th' warehaase dur at Betty, aw could see that there were summat wrong wi' one o' th' warps, for hoo were reachin' and sweatin' o'er th' loom, an' th' tackler were stannin' at her side, an' a deal too near and o' for my likin', aw con tell yo'.
He is a terrible tackler, and sometimes hugs an opponent so tenaciously that he forces the ball away and saves his side. The 1887 match was the only one in which he played for Scotland against England, but he appeared that same season against Wales. For two seasons, at any rate, and, I think, I might almost say three, Mr.
In the cup tie which is now under notice he made some very fine runs, and did much to make a name for the old Clydesdale. It is with much regret I have to announce that Mr. Wilson died in Glasgow only a month ago. ~James M'Arly.~ A hard worker and plucky tackler was Mr. M'Arly. For a long series of years he was one of the finest batsmen in cricket that Glasgow produced. Contemporary with Mr. Thos.
'And did she strike you as she struck the tackler? asked Mr. Penrose. 'Did hoo strike me ? Nowe; hoo turned t'other cheek and geet a better and longer kuss nor th' first. 'So that is how Malachi won you, is it, Betty? The story is worth a chapter in a novel. 'Nay, aw wernd so easily won as that, Mr. Penrose. There were summat else i' th' way, and aw welly thought once he'd ha' lost me.
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