"In the late summer of 1903, I was on a train coming east from Montana," Heff tells me, "after a summer spent in the Rockies. A companion recognized among the passengers Doc Hillebrand, who was coming East from his ranch to coach the Princeton team. This companion who was still a Lawrenceville schoolboy, had the nerve to brace Hillebrand and tell him in my presence that I was going to enter Princeton that fall and that I was a star football player. You can imagine what Doc thought, and how I felt. However, Doc was kind enough to tell me to report for practice and to recognize me when I appeared on the field several weeks later. I soon drifted over to the freshman field and I want to admit here what caused me to do so. It was nothing more nor less than the size of Jim Cooney's legs. Jim was a classmate of mine whom I first saw on the football field when he and another tackle candidate were engaged in that delicate pastime known to linemen as breaking through. I realized at once that, if Jim and I were ever put up against one another, I would stand about as much chance of shoving him back as I would if I tried to push a steam roller. So I went over to the freshman field, where Howard Henry was coaching at the time. He was sending ends down the field and I remember being thrilled, after beating a certain bunch of them, at hearing him say: 'You in the brown jersey, come over here in the first squad.' "DeWitt's team beat Cornell 44-0. For years there hung on the walls of the Osborn Club at Princeton a splendid action picture of Dana Kafer making one of the touchdowns in that game. It was a mass on tackle play, and Jim Cooney was getting his Cornell opponent out of the way for Kafer to go over the line. The picture gave Jim dead away. He had a firm grip of the Cornell man's jersey and arm. Ten years or more afterward, a group, including Cooney, was sitting in the Osborn Club. In a spirit of fun one man said, 'Jim, we know now how you got your reputation as a tackle. We can see it right up there on the wall.' The next day the picture was gone. "After I was graduated from Princeton in 1907 I went to Merton College, Oxford. There are twenty-two different colleges in Oxford and eighteen in Cambridge. Each one has its own teams and crews and plays a regular schedule. From the best of these college teams the university teams are drawn. Each college team has a captain and a secretary, who acts as manager. At the beginning of the college year (early October) the captain and secretary of each team go around among the freshmen of the college and try to get as many of them as possible to play their particular sport; mine Rugby football. After a few days the captain posts on the college bulletin board, which is always placed at the Porter's Lodge, a notice that a squash will be held on the college field. A squash is what we would call practice. [Illustration: "THE NEXT DAY THE PICTURE WAS GONE" Jim Cooney Making a Hole for Dana Kafer.]