ry weather.

"I remember once in my senior year our divergence of views on this
question, about three weeks before the final game, nearly split our
team, and that as a result I nearly received the doubtful honor of
becoming the captain of a defeated Yale team. Camp, fearful of wet
weather and possible snow at the Thanksgiving game, and with Channing,
Eaton and Fred Remington as the heavy Yale ends and everybody 'big' in
the rush line excepting myself, was trying to develop us with as little
kicking as possible, and was sensitive because of the protests from the
rush line that there was no kicking. We were all summoned one evening to
his room in Durfee; the situation explained, together with his
unwillingness to assume the responsibility of captain unless his ideas
were followed; his fear of defeat, if they were not followed, his
willingness to continue on the team as a halfback and to do his best and
his resignation as captain with the suggestion of my taking the
responsibility of the position. Things looked blue for Yale when Walter
walked out of the door, but after some ten minutes' discussion we
decided that the open game was the better, despite Camp's opinion to the
contrary, but that we could not play the open game without Camp as
captain. Some one was sent out to bring Walter back; matters were
smoothed out; we played the open game and never lost a touchdown during
the season. But during the four years I was on the Yale varsity we
never lost but one touchdown, from which a goal was kicked and there
were no goals kicked from the field. This goal was lost to Princeton,
and I think was in the fall of '78, the year that Princeton won the
championship. The two men that were more than anybody else responsible
for the record were Eugene Baker and Walter Camp, but behind it all was
the old Yale spirit, which seems to show itself better on the football
field than in any other branch of athletics."

Theodore M. McNair

On December 19th, 1915, there appeared in the newspapers a notice of the
death of an old Princeton athlete, in Japan--Theodore M. McNair--who,
while unknown to the younger football enthusiasts, was considered a
famous player in his day. To those who saw him play the news brought
back many thrills of his adventures upon the football field. The
following is what an old fellow player has to say about his team mate:

"Princeton has lost one of her most remarkable old time athletes in the
death of Theodore M