nother I was walking on ice so thin that one bad
mistake, however unintended, would break it.

"The rules were so incomplete that common sense was needed and,
frequently, interpretation was simply by mutual consent. Bitterness of
feeling between the big colleges made my duties all the harder. But it
was an untold satisfaction when I could feel that I had done well, and
as I said, the responsibility had its fascination and, in the main, was
a great satisfaction.

"And then came the inevitable, a foul seen only by me, which called for
an immediate penalty. This led to scathing criticism and accusations of
unfairness by many that did not understand the incident, altogether
leaving a sting that will go down with me to my grave in spite of my
happy recollections of the game. I had always taken a great pride in the
job, and in what the confidence of the big universities from one year to
another meant. I knew a little better than anybody else how
conscientiously I had tried to be fair and to use sense and judgment,
and the end of it all hurt a lot.

"One friendship was made in these years that has been worth more than
words can tell. I refer to that of Matthew McClung. To be known as a
co-official with McClung was a privilege that only those who knew him
can appreciate. I had known him before at Lehigh in his undergraduate
days, and had played on the same teams with him. In after years we were
officials together in a great many of the big games where feeling ran
high and manliness and fairness, as well as judgment, were often put to
a pretty severe test at short notice. Never was there a squarer
sportsman, or a fairer, more conscientious and efficient official; nor a
truer, more gallant type of real man than he. His early death took out
of the game a man of the kind we can ill afford to lose and no tribute
that I could pay him would be high enough.

"One night after a Yale-Harvard game at Cambridge, I was boarding the
midnight train for New York. The porter had my bag, and as we entered
the car, he confided in me, in an almost awestruck tone, that: 'Dad dere
gentlemin in de smokin' compartment am John L. Sullivan.'

"I crept into my berth, but next morning, in the washroom, I recognized
John L. as the only man left. He emerged from his basin and asked:

"'Were you at that football game yesterday?' and then 'Who won?'

"I told him, and by way of making conversation, asked him if he was
interested in all those outdoor gam