He is in college--a
sophomore--and I do not hesitate to declare that when he left school he
was about as clean cut a young fellow, both mentally and physically, as
anyone would wish to see. I have always encouraged him to take a
sensible amount of exercise and have been glad that he seemed fond of
the athletic sports in vogue among the growing lads of the country and
did not need to be prodded, like his brother David for instance, to
keep out of doors. I have been aware that he has been a prominent
member of an amateur base-ball nine and foot-ball eleven, and I have
been proud to follow in a confused sort of fashion, for the technical
terms have changed sadly since I was a boy, the defeats and victories,
principally the latter, I think, of those illustrious organizations.
Although I was never his equal physically, I look back with
considerable pride to my own foot-ball days, and my children have heard
me repeatedly describe the famous dash which I once made with the ball
from one end of the field to the other, with Tom Ruggs, the butcher's
boy, at my heels, and how he never caught me until after I had sent it
flying over the goal line, and we had won the game. That was a long
time ago now, and we played a very different game, as I have since
discovered. I hear a great deal said nowadays about the lack of
attention which the older generation gave to manly sports.
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