"I've got bones I never knew the existence of before," mourned Neil.

"Me too," growled Paul. "And half a dozen of my front teeth are aching
from trying to bite holes in the ground; I think they're all loose. If
they come out I'll send the dentist's bill to the management."

A few minutes later Neil found himself at left half in one of the six
squads of eleven men each that practised advancing the ball. They lined
up in ordinary formation, and the ball was passed to one back after
another for end runs. Mills went from squad to squad, criticizing
briefly and succinctly.

"Don't wait for the quarter to pass," he told Paul, who was playing
beside Neil. "On your toes and run hard. Have confidence in your
quarter. If the ball isn't ready for you it's not your fault. Try
that again."

And when Paul and Neil and the full-back had plowed round the left end
once more--

"Quarter, don't hold that ball as though your hand was frozen; keep your
hand limber and see that you get the belly of the ball in it, not one
end; then it won't tilt itself out. When you get the ball from center
rise quickly, put your back against guard, and throw your weight there.
And it's just as necessary for you to have confidence in the runner as
it is for him to have faith in you. Don't fear that you'll be too quick
for him; don't doubt but that he'll be there at the right instant. Keep
that in mind and you'll soon have things going like clock-work. Now once
more; ball to left half for a run around right end."