Center Rush Rowland

effect on Nead, for that youth was far more amiable, and, while he did hesitate and seem a bit dubious for a moment, he ended by accepting the proposition

ave to make a dicker with Mrs. Magoon, I guess, for

Nead. "Anyway, we oughtn't t

greed. "And what about breakfasts? Sh

but my chop had seen better days. Still, it's easier than hunting a restaurant. I

reakfasts for awhile. That will cheer

n't like her. So that's even. What

s I trip up.

ith a fellow who's taking the same stuff. There's another thing,

id Ira. "I guess hers are al

ave one that hasn't been slept on twenty y

l. There must be quite a lot of them, because she says she has

the back that she rents. It's behind the spring-water place. I suppose ther

lnut table on which the breakfast tray had be

do

is place. They call it 'Maggy's.' I'd been to about six before that and couldn't find

s. Dear Sir: I have a room at Mrs. Magoon's, 200 Main Street, third floor back on the left. A note addressed to me here will find me and I shall be

last night, but I forgot it. Guess I'll scribble a note while you're talking t

's something I won't do. I'll lend yo

htily. "I've got a better one of my

lars and a half a week until Ira informed her that they would each want breakfasts. Four dollars a week was at last agreed on. In the matter of mattresses, however, she was adamant. More

And how about ano

cot, I guess. I ain

d!" exclaimed Ira. "It hasn't an

get along as it is, with rents as low as they are. That room ought to fetch me six dollars a week, it should so. And I'm only

mattress," suggested Ira. "Will you

full price, though, young man,

you pay me half what it

t go and buy an expensive one. I wou

a bed for six dollars and

nstein's on Adams Street. That's the cheapest place. Ask for Mr. Levinstein and tell him I sent you. I buy a lot from him. Leastways, I used to. I ain't b

ces were muttered to herself as she made her wa

purchased and on anything it might be necessary to buy later. "You see," he explained, "it will be your bed, and I won't

ry it!" sai

After testing the six-dollar mattresses Ira concluded that there was such a thing as mistaken economy! After leavi

tly ventured. There were three doors to his right and as many to his left, each opened and showing a cheerfully bright and totally empty classroom, and at the end of the corridor was a stairway leading to the floor above. About that time a gong clanged and, with a hurried and surreptitious glance at the schedule card in his pocket, Ira began a search for Room L. A small youth in short trousers came to his assistance and he found it at the end of the opposite wing. He had rather hoped to run across Mart Johnston, but it was not until he had taken a seat in the recitation room that he saw that youth several rows nearer the front. Mart didn't see him, however, f

have spent a pleasant Summer and that you have returned eager for work-and play. Someone-was it not our own Mark Twain?-said that play is what we like to do, work what we have to do. But he didn't say that we can't make play of our work, you

that, laughter in which t

gly. "But I like to think that the term 'Old' is

, and cries o

the age of the oldest of you, that is, at about the age of twenty-one years. Today I am far more humble as to my attainments. But, young gentlemen, there is one thing that I have learned and learned well, and that is this: each of us can make his work what he pleases, a task or a pleasure. Some of you won't believe that now, but you'll all learn eventually that it is so. And if you make your work a task you are putting difficulties in your own way, whereas if you make it a pleasure you are automatically increasing y

all his instructors, his head was swimming with a mass of information as to hours, courses of reading and so on, and he had made quite a formidable list of books and stationery to be purchased. He returned to Mrs. Magoon's and spent a half-hour filling in a s

ll the money he had with him save enough change to meet immediate demands, signed his name where the teller pointed and emerged the proud possessor of his first check book. By that time it was nearly three, and, having nothi

alf were clay and half turf. To the right of the courts was a quarter-mile running track enclosing the gridiron and beyond that were the baseball diamonds, three in number. A sizeable grandstand flanked the gridiron and a smaller one stood behind the home-plate of the 'varsity diamond. Already the playfield was w

ould happen if he ran up to one of those barriers and tried to stick one leg across and double the other one behind him. He chuckled at the mental picture he got! One of the hurdlers interested him particularly. He was a much shorter and chunkier lad than the others; in age probably seventeen. There was no useless flesh on him, but he was

aces I wouldn't pick him, but if I was choosing a chap to-to hunt for the

years whose air of authority plainly stamped him as the coach. By his side was a strapping youth with broad shoulders, a slim waist and sturdy legs who was quite as plainly the captain. He had tawny hair, light eyes and a lean, sun-browned face that, without being handsome, was striking. He looked, Ira decided, like a born leader. And those shoulders and that deep chest and the powerful legs under the brown-and-white ringed stockings suggested that he was as capable physically as any other way. A rotund man in brown denim o

board to which were held by a clamp a number of sheets of paper. Ira surmised correctly that he

," called the coach. "New c

y boys; undersized boys and overgrown boys; fat boys and lean boys; and boys who weren't anything in particular. All wore football togs of some description, many new, more old. Here and there Ira caught sight of a brown sweater with the white P followed by the insignia "2nd," and here and there a white sweater bearing the letters "P.B.B.C." in brown. But

t certainly didn't occur to him that anyone could find anything unusual in his appearance now that he was wearing his blue serge. He had bought that suit in Bangor and he had the salesman's word for it that it was absolutely the last cry in fashionable attire and that it fitted him perfectly. Perhaps, however, the salesman had been nearsighted. Let us be charitable and think so; for the fact is that that blue serge suit was too short as to trousers, leavin

ning to feel a bit lonesome and out of it. But he was destined to disappointment, for when he opened the door the room was quite empty. There were, however, evidences of recen