“It’s all well enough for you fellows to pretend that you know what’s

going to happen when the quarter-back shouts a lot of numbers to you,”
observed Amy, hugging his knees and exposing a startling view of
crushed-raspberry socks, “but I’m too old a bird–no pun intended this
time–to be caught
“It’s all well enough for you fellows to pretend that you know what’s
going to happen when the quarter-back shouts a lot of numbers to you,”
observed Amy, hugging his knees and exposing a startling view of
crushed-raspberry socks, “but I’m too old a bird–no pun intended this
time–to be caught. Besides, I played once for a couple of weeks, and I
know that signals didn’t mean anything to me.”

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“You spoke disrespectfully of the school, Dreer

“You spoke disrespectfully of the school, Dreer. I told you you mustn’t.
I’m terribly fond of the dear old school and it hurts me to hear it
maligned. And then there’s Durkin’s violin, Dreer. Perhaps you haven’t
heard about that.”

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Unfortunately–or perhaps fortunately–Clint’s showing on this occasion

was accepted by Mr
Unfortunately–or perhaps fortunately–Clint’s showing on this occasion
was accepted by Mr. Simkins as a standard to which future performances
were required to conform. “What has been done once may be done again,
Thayer,” he would inform him. And Clint, not being able to deny the
logic of this statement, was forced to toil harder than ever. But there
came a time, though it was not yet, when he found that his difficulties
were lessening, that an hour accomplished what it had taken two to
accomplish before; and that, in short, Greek, while not a study to
enthuse over, had lost most of its terrors. But all that, as I say, came
later, and for many weeks yet “Uncle Sim” pursued Clint in his dreams
and the days when he had a Greek recitation were dreaded ones.

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Gradually they had become separated from the other fellows, and now they

were alone in their grandeur watching the efforts of a youth of about
twenty to start an automobile which stood in front of Thacher’s
principal hotel, the Commercial House
Gradually they had become separated from the other fellows, and now they
were alone in their grandeur watching the efforts of a youth of about
twenty to start an automobile which stood in front of Thacher’s
principal hotel, the Commercial House. They were not especially
interested in the spectacle and really didn’t much care whether the
youth ever got going, but there wasn’t much else to look at. Every time
the engine started and the youth made a wild dash at the throttle he
reached it too late. Before he could pull it down the chug-chugging died
away. Several minutes passed and Clint viewed the clock in front of a
jewelry store across the street apprehensively. It was seventeen minutes
of five. He tugged Amy’s sleeve.

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