"And another bad thing about that," continued Andy, "is that those fellows, if they wanted to, could make a reputation on something else besides their cash. Now there's one chap here--no names, of course--but he's a fine musician, and he could make the glee club, and the dramatic association too, if he liked. But he's just to confounded lazy. He'd rather draw a check, give an order for a spread, and let it go at that. "Of course the fellows like to go to the blow-outs, and--come home with a headache. This fellow thinks he gets a lot of fun out of it, but it's dollars to some of these socks Ikey sells, that he'd have a heap more fun, and make a lot more permanent friends, if he'd get out and take part in something that was worth while. "Now you take our friend Ikey. I don't imagine it's any great fun for him to be going around selling things the way he does--he has to, I understand it. And yet at that, he has a better time of it than maybe you or I do--and we don't exactly have to worry where our next allowance check is coming from." "Right, Andy old man. Jove! You'd better have taken up the divinity school. I'm thinking. You're a regular preacher." "I don't feel a bit like preaching though, Dunk old boy. In fact I'd a heap sight rather turn in and snooze. But, do you know I'm so nervous over this game that I'm afraid I'll lie awake and toss until morning, and then I won't be much more use than a wet dishrag, as far as my nerve is concerned." "I feel pretty nearly the same as you do, Andy. Let's sit up a while and talk. I s'pose, though, if we ever make the varsity we'll laugh at the way we're acting now." "Oh, I don't know," spoke Andy musingly. "Some of these varsity fellows have as bad a case of nerves before a big game as we have now, before our little Freshman one." "It isn't such a little one!" and Dunk bridled up. "The winning of this game from Princeton means as much to our class, and to Yale, in a way, as though the varsity took a contest. It all counts--for the honor of the old college. How are you feeling, anyhow?" "Pretty fit. I'm only afraid, though, that I'll make some horrible break in front of the crowd--muff a foul, or let one of your fast ones get by me with the bases full," concluded Andy. "If you do," exclaimed Dunk, with a falsetto tone calculated to impress the hearer that a petulant girl was speaking--"if you do I'll never speak to you again--so there!" and he pretended to toss back a refractory lock of hair. Andy laughed, and pitched a book at his chum, which volume Dunk successfully dodged. "Well, I wouldn't want that to happen," said the catcher. "And that reminds me. There's a rip in my glove, and I've got to sew it." "Can you sew?" "Oh, a bit," answered Andy. "I'm strictly an amateur though, mind you. I don't do it for pay, so if you've got any buttons that need welding to your trousers don't ask me to do it." "Never!" exclaimed Dunk. "I've found a better way than that."