The Sage was singing to himself . . . "Willo, Petrillo, Petrillo." Seeing his crew around him, he switched to "Hall, hail, DeGangl's all here," and began his pep talk. "I want you to fight," he said. "I want you to go Straight from here like a shot from a Gannon and get on the Ball.

A Defiley silence answered him. The Sage began to mutter to himself. "So Holy Cross is going to win, is it?," he said with a Glynnt in his eye. Why, that DaGrossast He I ever heard. It's perfectly Cleo to me what will happen. It'll be a fight to the Flynnish, but the score will be: Harvard 14  Holy Cross 6