These was no moisture in the little easterly wind that blew across the field when Alton kicked off to Kenly, but the clouds were heavy and the afternoon was gray and chill. Lack of sunshine, however, had not affected the attendance. The stands were filled, the rows of settees from the gymnasium and chairs from the halls were occupied and the crowd spilled over the ground in large numbers and sat on rugs, newspapers, anything that would serve. Alton was present, Academy and town, and so to a lesser degree was Lakeville. Gray-and-gold banners, arm-bands and megaphones lighted one side of the field, the cherry-and-black of Kenly sprinkled the other. Earnest youths, white-sweatered, bareheaded, gesticulated and cavorted while rival cheers and songs rose to the sullen sky. At two o’clock, having won the toss, Kenly spread her warriors over the north end of the gridiron. Warriors they looked, too, rangy, broad-shouldered youths, red-sleeved, black-helmeted. Captain Jonas swung a sturdy leg and the ball rose in the air. But there were no tees that year and the pigskin’s flight was short and low. Alton’s backs were far from the catcher and Kenly lined up on her thirty-four. Two plunges, with a tackle carrying, ripped the Alton line wide and made it first down almost in the middle of the field. But a third attempt was stopped short and a full-back smash on Wick yielded but two yards. Kenly shifted to the left and sent her quarter through Lowe for four more. Then, however, with four to go, Kenly had to punt. The effort, aided slightly by a gust of wind, was good for forty yards and dropped close to the side-line and into Storer’s arms. Nip made six before he was nailed by a Kenly end and the ball lay on the Alton twenty-one. Galvin tried the left wing from punting position but was unable to gain, and on the second down Storer kicked to the enemy’s forty-six where Dutch Kruger slammed the catcher to the earth. Time was taken out for Kenly while her quarter-back was ministered to.