Better get your men out." There was a hurried donning of clothing, a renewed uproar.
"All ready, fellows," shouted the captain.

"Answer to your names: Kendall, Tucker, Browning, Stowell, Witter, Jewell, Devoe, Gale, Pearse, Mason, Foster." "There's not much use in talk," said Mills, as the babel partly died away.

"I've got no fault to find with the work of any of you in the last half; but we've got to do better in this half; you can see that for yourselves.

You were a little bit weak on team-play; see if you can't get together.

We're going to tie the score; maybe we're going to beat.
Anyhow, let's work like thunder, fellows, and, if we can't do any more, tear that confounded tackle-tandem up and send it home in pieces.