e on our way to New York for the banquet and
celebration of our victory.

Arthur Poe was the lion of the hour. No finer fellow ever received more
just tribute.

It would take a separate volume to describe the incidents of that trip
from New Haven to New York. Before it had ended we realized if we never
had realized it before how sweet was victory, and how worth while the
striving that brought it to us.

Suffice it to say that that Yale football was the most popular
"passenger" on the train. Over and over we played the game and a million
caresses were lavished upon the trophy.

This may seem an excess of sentiment to some, but those who have played
football understand me. Looking back through the retrospect of seventeen
years, I realize that I did not fully understand then the meaning of
those happy moments. I now appreciate that it was simply the deep
satisfaction that comes from having made good--the sense of real
accomplishment.

Enthusiastic Princeton men were waiting for us at the Grand Central
Station. They escorted us to the Murray Hill Hotel, and the wonderful
banquet that awaited us. The spirit of the occasion will be understood
by football players and enthusiasts who have enjoyed similar
experiences.

The members of the team just sat and listened to speeches by the alumni
and coaches. It all seemed too good to be true. When the gathering broke
up, the players became members of different groups, who continued their
celebration in the various ways provided by the hospitality of the great
city.

[Illustration: TOUCHING THE MATCH TO VICTORY]

Hillebrand and I ended the night together. When we awoke in the
morning, the Yale football was there between our pillows, the bandaged
shoulder and collar-bone of Hillebrand nestling close to it.

Then came the home-going of the team to Princeton, and the huge bonfire
that the whole university turned out to build. Some nearby wood yard was
looking the next day for thirty-six cords of wood that had served as the
foundation for the victorious blaze. It was learned afterward that the
owner of the cord-wood had backed the team--so he had no regrets.

The team was driven up in buses from the station. It was a proud
privilege to light the bonfire. Every man on the team had to make a
speech and then we had a banquet at the Princeton Inn. Later in the year
the team was banqueted by the alumni organizations around the country.
Every man had a peck of souvenirs--gold matchs