Once again a Harvard team, with the odds of experts heavily against it, ventures into the Jungle. It has been said of the CRIMSON team that "No matter how charged with punishments the scroll, no matter even how straight the gait, let the team only beat the pants off Princeton and the season is successful." There is more than honor and a deep sea diving championship at stake here; the CRIMSON team has not lost a game to a college aggregation this season.

On Wednesday night a pleading, cheering, imploring mob of Harvard students filled the Union, chanting "Beat the Princetonian baseball team." To Coach Field's exhortation, in that moment when he silenced the pandemonium with an uplifted hand and said quietly, "Fellows, England expects every man to do his duty," it were superfluity to add a jot. Six thousand throats have bled themselves white cheering for the team so far this season. Twelve thousand feet have stamped in unison whenever an opposing pitcher showed the slightest tendency to waver. Harvard wants no flagging of this spirit.

And when the clash of mighty opposites is o'er, when the heroes of the day, tired, "but happy," have been carried from the field on the shoulders of frenzied alumni, a hush as of twilight will fall on the old locker building, and someone will say "Write not, like the Great Scorer, if they won, but how they played the Game."