Princeton. It was on the trip from Trenton to Lawrenceville, in the big
stage coach loaded with boys, I got my first dose of homesickness. The
prospect of new surroundings made me yearn for St. John's.

The "blue hour" of boyhood, however, is a brief one. I was soon engaged
in conversation with a little fellow who was sitting beside me and who
began discussing the ever-popular subject of football. He was very
inquisitive and wanted to know if I had ever played the game, and if I
was going to try for the team.

He told me about the great game Lawrenceville played with the Princeton
Varsity the year before, when Lawrenceville scored six points before
Princeton realized what they were really up against. He fascinated me by
his graphic description. There was a glowing account of the playing of
Garry Cochran, the great captain of the Lawrenceville team, who had just
graduated and gone to Princeton, together with Sport Armstrong, the
giant tackle.

These men were sure to live in Lawrenceville's history if for nothing
else than the part they had played in that notable game, although
Princeton rallied and won 8 to 6. It was not long before I learned that
my newly-made friend was Billy McGibbon, a member of the Lawrenceville
baseball team.

"Just wait until you see Charlie de Saulles and Billy Dibble play behind
the line," he went on; and from that moment I began to be a part of the
new life, the threshold of which I was crossing. Strangely enough the
memory of getting settled in my new quarters faded with the eventful
moment when the call for candidates came, and I went out with the rest
of the boys to try for the team.