Scranton designed to have inside of another week--a monster affair
that included entries from all other schools in the county, and which
already promised to be one of the greatest and most successful meets
ever held.

Hugh and his chums were every one of them entered for several events;
indeed, it would have been like looking for a needle in a haystack to
try and find a single Scranton boy above the age of ten, and sound of
wind, who had not taken advantage of the generous invitation to place
his name on the records, and go in for training along a certain line.
Those who could not sprint, leap the bars, throw hammer or discus, or
do any other of the ordinary stunts, might, at least, have some
chance of winning a prize in the climbing of the greased pole, the
catching of the greased pig, the running of the obstacle race, or
testing their ability to hop in the three-legged race, where each
couple of boys would have a right and left leg bound together, and
then attempt to cross a given line ahead of all like competitors.

So even when they started out after lunch the whole five were a bit
tired; and a vast store of nuts, like the one they were fetching
home, cannot be gathered, no matter however plentiful they may be on
ground and trees, without considerable muscular effort on the part of
the ambitious collectors.

Consequently, every fellow was feeling pretty stiff and sore about
the time we overtake them on the way home. Besides, most of them had
zigzag scratches on face and hands by which to remember the
wonderfully successful expedition for several days. Then there was
Julius Hobson with a soiled handkerchief bound around his left thumb,
which he solicitously examined every little while. He had, somehow,