fellows!"

"Get up McGill! Get up, or I'll penalise you," says the referee.
Everyone knows he will keep his word. There is a movement on the
part of McGill to rise. Campbell seizes the opportunity, lowers his
head, and with a yell drops the ball in front of Shock. In the whirl
of the screw the ball slips out to Brown, who tips it to The Don,
but before he can take a single step half a dozen men are upon him
and he is shoved back a couple of feet.

"Man, man," ejaculates the old lady, "will you not be careful!"

"I say!" exclaims old Black to a McGill enthusiast whom he had
fought in the famous championship battle four years ago. "This is
something like."

"Great ball," replies his friend. "We'll hold them yet. I've often
seen a ball forced back from two feet off the line."

It is still the 'Varsity ball. The crowds are howling like maniacs,
while the policeman and field censors are vainly trying to keep the
field decently clear.

The Don resigns the ball to the captain and falls in behind. Every
man is wet, panting, disfigured, but eager for the fight. Again the
scrim forms, only to fall upon the ball.

"Dead ball," announces the referee, and both teams begin to
manoeuvre for advantage of position. A few inches is a serious
thing.