"What a Gudaitis for football. Miklos all pressed for the game, Beers on ice, and, best of all, Harvard should win in a Walsh," the erudite old Sage murmured to himself as he adjusted his tie for the Tennant twelfth time.
"No, sir," the Sage continued sagely, "Naething can go wrong this afternoon. They'll be Drennan the Charles, Loring diving bells in the Athletic Building pool to find the Tufts team by five o'clock..."
"Vrattos the matter," a voice came from the hall.
"Cummings," said Hu Flung grumpily, for he could have Gannon and on with his Fortin telling. "Weldon," he congratulated himself.
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