for he bristled up and tore into me like a wild cat. I have
met a goodish few guards in my day, and was accustomed to almost any
form of warfare, but this Payne went around me, like a cooper around a
barrel, and broke through the line and downed the runners in their
tracks. On plunges straight at him, he went to the mat and grabbed every
leg in sight and hung on for dear life. He darted through between my
legs; would vault over me; what he did to me was a shame. He was not
rough, but was just the opposite. I never laid a hand on him all the
afternoon. He would make a world beater in the game as it is played
to-day."

Whenever Brown University men get together and speak of their wonderful
quarterbacks, the names of Sprackling and Crowther are always mentioned.
Both of these men were All-American quarterbacks. Crowther filled the
position after Sprackling graduated. He weighed only 134 pounds, but he
gave everything he had in him--game, though handicapped in weight. In
the Harvard game of that year, about the middle of the second half,
Haughton sent word over to Robinson, the Brown coach, that he ought to
take the little fellow out; that he was too small to play football, and
was in danger of being seriously injured. Crowther, however, was like an
India-rubber ball and not once during the season had he received any
sort of injury. Robby told Crowther what Haughton had suggested, and
smiling, the latter said:

"Tell him not to worry about me; better look out for himself."

On the next play Crowther took the ball and went around Harvard's end
for forty yards, scoring a touchdown. After he had kicked the goal, the
little fellow came over to the side line, and said to Robby:

"Send word over to Haughton and ask him how he likes that. Ask him if he
thinks I'm all in? Perhaps he would like to have me quit now."

In the Yale game that year Crowther was tackled by Pendleton, one of the
big Yale guards. It so happened that Pendleton was injured several times
when he tackled Crowther and time had to be taken out. Finally the big
fellow was obliged to quit, and as he was led off the field, Crowther
hurried over to him, reaching up, placed his hands on his shoulder and
said:

"Sorry, old man! I didn't mean to hurt you." Pendleton, who weighed well
over 200 pounds, looked down upon the little fellow, but said never a
word.

It is most unpleasant to play in a game where a man is injured. Yet
still more distressing when you real