senior club it was apparent that their followers
were in the majority, but when the young Vale of Leven got the first
point, the cheers which followed showed that they had also a large
number of partisans, who honestly believed in the club's ability to win
the cup. In the first round, indeed, the Vale players showed much better
combination all over than the Q.P., and reminded many of the Vale of
yore. The second half, however, revealed the senior club at their best,
and from the manner in which they acted together and kept up their
staying powers, they really deserved to win. As we have already said,
the gossip among the spectators was both bright and original. A
demonstrative supporter of the senior club was rather personal with his
remarks, and was asked by a lover of the game, but not a partisan of
either club, to keep quiet "and not let everybody know he was a born
fool." "Oh! yes; it's all very fine, but the band at Alexandria 'ill no
play at the station yet: the Vale canna' win noo," said he, as the
Queen's team put the ball through a second time. A well dressed young
fellow on the stand near the press table was very funny, and if ever a
man enjoyed the game it was he. In the exuberance of his joy at the Q.P.
scoring, he danced on the little spot allotted to him on the stand, and
in doing so nearly overbalanced himself. "Ye'll be the better o' a half
yin after that narrow escape," said one of his friends, handing him a
bottle. After he had swallowed a fair amount of the liquor he stole a
hasty glance at the bottle, and found to his disgust he had been
drinking "The Vale of Leven blend." "It's a' richt," said his country
friend, "ye'll maybe need it a' yet; the Vale are not beaten the noo;
the Queen's man tak' anither goal before that occurs," and so they did.
"Oh! a' say," remarked a born East-Ender, for whom we are perfectly
certain the Clyde and Thistle, according to his self-importance at any
rate, had played their best on Barrowfield and Beechwood, "look at that;
it's no' fair to gie the Vale a free kick for that; it's the auld way;
gie't ta the yin that mak's the maist noise." "Yes," said another, who
looked every inch a dyer from the celebrated football county of
Dumbarton, and maybe the Vale of Leven district itself, "did ever ye see
the likes o' that, and frae sic a swell club, tae?" as Robertson bowled
over Bruce on the grass, and cleared the ball away. Wilson, the Vale of
Leven goalkeeper, came in for a f