would doubtless have been realised.

In the spring of 1915, interviewed by a London football editor, he
explained how Dulwich had built up its great football reputation. Much
of the success he attributed to the system of training.

We do not divide the school into so many "houses," as they do
elsewhere, but into "games." We have no fewer than eight senior
games, which means eight groups of players, about thirty in each
group; and these are selected so that boys of about the same age
and weight will meet each other. When we have arranged our games,
one of the Colours--1st XV men--is told off to coach. Sometimes
we play as many as nine XV's in one day. With the first team we
practise what are called "set-pieces." One day we will take the
forwards, get the scrum properly formed, practise hooking,
heeling and screwing. We have devoted a lot of attention to
wheeling. We also practise hand-to-hand passing among the
forwards.

My son held that brain as well as muscle was needed in athletics.
"Rugby football," he wrote, "tends more and more to become an ideal
combination of scientific actions. Haphazard, clumsy battering is
useless. Your footballer has to be a thinking and a reasoning factor."
He believed that games properly played are invaluable as a training in
character. "They make," he wrote, "not only for courage and
unselfishness, but also for clean living: a sportsman dare not indulge
in excesses."

Nobody could have found greater happiness in a game of football than
did Paul Jones. He revelled in a hard-fought match and seemed
impervious to knocks and bruises. One of his merits as a captain was
that he never lost heart; he would fight doggedly to the last, even
against adverse conditions. He knew, too, how to adapt his tactics
skilfully to varying conditions of play. It was an intoxicating moment
after a victory, for the boys would sweep into the field of play and
carry the captain in triumph shoulder-high from the arena. In
public-school football no animosities are left, no matter how keenly
contested the game. Victor and vanquished dine together after the
match, the best of friends, and the home team escort their visitors to
the railway station. How well I recollect Paul coming home on Saturday
evenings about eight o'clock after a victorious match; his firm, quick
step, and the eager joy that shone in his face! His mother and I
often watched the games at