“You new fellows must understand that permits to take part in baseball and track games won’t answer for rowing, so please see Mr. Beck to-morrow if possible; if not, on Saturday. I hope that you’ll do as Mr. Beck has requested; I mean try and work up more of an interest in rowing; every fellow ought to be able to bring at least one other fellow with him next Wednesday. We’ve got a hard proposition before us this spring, but it’s by no means a hopeless one. We’ve beaten St. Eustace on the river before--often--and we can do it again; but it means lots of hard work, and any fellow that’s afraid of work might as well pull out now, for we can’t have any shirking. Last spring there was a good deal of trouble at the first of the season because the candidates--some of them, that is--tried to get out of preliminary work. That won’t do; the work on the weights at the beginning of the season is really important, and it’s got to be faced; and I tell you now that any fellow who won’t go through with it honestly isn’t wanted. But I don’t believe there are any of that sort here to-day, and I hope there won’t be next Wednesday. I guess that’s all I have to say. I hope every fellow will bear in mind the fact that in trying for the crew he is not only bettering his own physical condition and health, but standing by the school; he can’t do more for the honor of Hillton than by honest, sincere work on the crews. And it doesn’t make any difference whether he makes the varsity boat or the second; in either case he’s doing his best, doing his duty; for the fellow that rows with the second eight is helping to turn out a winning crew almost as much as though he rowed in the race with St. Eustace. I hope we’ll all pull together this year and that there won’t be any discord. I’ll do my level best, and I’ll trust you fellows to do yours; and if that is so I defy St. Eustace or any one else to beat us!” The audience showed its approval of these sentiments by clapping, Taylor perhaps the loudest of all, and Dick, somewhat red in the face from his effort, smiled, and drawing a tablet from his pocket, proceeded to take the fellows’ names. Professor Beck settled his glasses again on his nose and approached a youth who during the proceedings had been perched comfortably on the top of a radiator, but who, having secured the entry of his name in the list of candidates, was now examining with interest the working of one of the rowing machines. “You’re Nesbitt, aren’t you?” asked the professor. “Yes, sir.” “Ever rowed any, Nesbitt?” “Yes, as a youngster”--here the professor smiled slightly--“I used to paddle a bit; that was in England.” “Ah, yes; I recollect you now. You won the last quarter in the relay race the other night; that was well run, my boy, although you’re rather too heavy for fast work. How was your wind when you finished?” “It was rather short; the spurts tuckered me quite a bit.”