he air was charged with enthusiasm, and I soon caught the
infection--although it was all new to me then--of the vital power of
college spirit which later so completely dominated my life. I recall
with vividness how I lingered and waited for something to happen. Men
were standing in groups, and all eyes were centered upon the heroes of
the team. Every one was talking football. Some of the names heard then
have never been forgotten by me. There was the giant Heffelfinger whom
every one seemed anxious to meet. I was told that he was the crack Yale
guard. I looked at him, and, then and there, I joined the hero
worshippers.

I also remember Lee McClung, the Yale captain, who seemed to realize the
responsibilities that rested upon his shoulders. There was an air of
restraint upon him. In later years he became Treasurer of the United
States and his signature was upon the country's currency. My most vivid
recollection of him will be, however, as he stood there that day in the
corridor of the famous old hotel, on the day of a great football
conflict with Princeton. Then Sanford was pointed out to me, the Yale
center-rush. I recall his eagerness to get out to the "bus" and to be on
his way to the field. When the starting signal was given by the captain,
Sanford's huge form was in the front rank of the crowd that poured out
upon the sidewalk.

The whole scene was intensely thrilling to me, and I did not leave
until the last player had entered the "bus" and it drove off. Crowds of
Yale men and spectators gave the players cheer after cheer as they
rolled away. The flags with which the "bus" was decorated waved in the
breeze, and I watched them with indescribable fascination until they
were out of sight. The noise made by the Yale students I learned
afterwards was college cheering, and college cheers once heard by a boy
are never forgotten.

Many in that throng were going to the game. I could not go, but the
scene that I had just witnessed gave me an inspiration. It stirred
something within me, and down deep in my soul there was born a desire to
go to college.

I made my way directly to the Y. M. C. A. gymnasium, then at the corner
of Fourth Avenue and Twenty-third Street. Athletics had for me a greater
attraction than ever before, and from that day I applied myself with
increased enthusiasm to the work of the gymnasium.

The following autumn I entered St. John's Military Academy at Manlius,
N. Y., a short distance from my old