Before him, on a white-barred field, two groups of young gentlemen were facing each other. Those of one group were bright red as to arms and legs and those of the other dark green. Besides the number engaged in the contest――the man placed that number as between twenty and thirty; possibly because several of them kept moving about all the time――there were two older persons on hand, one of whom was an extremely active gentleman, judging from the manner in which he ran back and forth. While he looked someone blew a whistle and the two groups of players suddenly became inextricably confused. Some ran one way and some another and each seemed mainly bent on getting into the next fellow’s way! And then, quite from nowhere, a green-stockinged youth shot into prominence and ran very fast across the field in the observer’s direction. He had a football in one arm and held the other stiffly before him. The reason for this was presently made plain when a scarlet-legged youth tried to interfere with him. That extended hand came into contact with the scarlet-legged youth’s face and the latter swerved quickly aside. But the lad with the green stockings didn’t get much farther, for two other scarlet-legged players literally hurled themselves on him and he was sent headlong across the white line and into a windrow of hay. The man, rather startled by such violence, understood at once that the hay had been placed there for humanitarian purposes. Everyone shouted things then, while, to the surprise of the man, the assaulted youth arose nonchalantly, shook himself, and trotted further into the field, where, presently, the whole performance was gone through with again. The man was perplexed. Football he had heard of but never witnessed, and it was very difficult to understand. On a board at one end of the inclosure was the legend: GRAFTON VISITORS That, of course, meant that neither side had as yet succeeded in making a tally. The man wondered what they did to make a tally, and while he was still wondering a gentleman wearing a white sweater ran frantically onto the field and tooted an automobile horn. Whereupon, with one accord, the players of both sides drew apart and then trotted diagonally down the field and disappeared from sight. The man started to get up, saw that only a very few were following his example, hesitated, and resumed his seat. “I beg pardon, sir,” he said to his neighbor, “is there more of it?” “Oh, yes, that’s only the first half,” replied the boy, a note of surprise in his voice. “You got here late, didn’t you?” “Yes, sir. The train I reached Needham Junction on did not connect with any train for this place and I was obliged to take a fly――er, carriage, that is to say. It took some time.” “I guess it did!” The boy observed his neighbor interestedly, a bit puzzled. “Too bad to miss a whole quarter after coming so far, sir.”