Evening star., 1926-10-17

She may wave the nag OF Vassar
In her delicate finger tips.
IN the CLINT Of her light brown hair.
And honor the color of Dartmouth
BY the dress she is wont to wear;
But the color she holds the closest
In her shining eyes it greets you.
:. And their. skies win never fail
The br9wn 3on h, hair ns may change to silver
Ny Ladye will then be seen:
The red in her lips may lessen
And the rose in her cheeks grow pale
But the blue in her eyes will ever tell
That her heart belongs to Yale.
Now any girl in the romantic nine
ties-or perhaps even in this rhyme
less fapper age-would have yielded
to understandable emotions had she
succumbed as ardently as might have
been expected, to a mind and heart
capable of meter so passable and
sentiment so fervent.
Perhaps for a time she did. But
years Of youth are years of swift
mutation, no less in sentiment than
anything whatever.
So it came about that within twelve
months she was engaged to be mar.
ried to John Rutherford. Rutherford
had no poetic faculty. but he had a
habit Of getting most things he
strongly desired. Moreover. from the
standpoint of heroics he fully matched
Joyce, being stalwart guard on the
Princeton eleven.
1t was a blow to Jeremy. for never
IN word or thought had he recanted q
single jot Of the sentiment set forth in
his poem, and, besides, being a bit
temperamental. he did not easily re.
act from things. Never again did he
write another StanZa. Something
within him perished when Lucy West
went out of his life.
AS for Rutherford of the Princeton
varsity, it makes for enduring bitter
ness to have one, who has once been a
friend, crash down upon your eX.
tended leg when you are going
through the line like a locomotive
ending then and there your foot ball
career midway through the last game
of senior year.
1t might well have been an accident
But Joyce thought differently. Down
upon the ground, the splintered end of
q bone thrust out through his stock
ing, he looked up at the man bending
over him.
Thank you" he said, his lips white,
his eyes dark with pain and enmity
THAT was cleverly done. Rutherford" "
Rutherford was-well, he was a
Rutherford. Flushing, he Strengthened
up, set his lips tightly. Here he
wronged himself and wronged Joyce
as well. But foot ball players are as
stoical as Indians when 1t comes to
such things, and more often than not
they cherish through the years venge.
full memories that are altogether
aboriginal in their depth and bitter
ness.
1t remains in this connection to he
said that Rutherford and Lucy West
were married soon after commence
ment.
Jeremy Joyce married the daughter
of a New York corporation lawy ,r
From the first she never inspired him
to write verse. This was just as well
since she had not the slightest appre-
citation of poetry.
X X
JEREMY JOYCE had two reasons
- for going to Princeton to see the
annual game between the freshman
elevens of Yale and Princeton. First
he was chairman of the foot ball COM
mittee of his university and wanted
to see what sort of material would
come up for the varsity next year.
Second his son was left tackle on the
team.
Biffy Joyce. as every one called him.
had come to Yale with a resounding
Andover reputation-a big-shouldered,
sturdylimhed youth who already was
inches taller than his father.
Joyce's breath caught and some
thing came up into his throat when
the team loped to the gridiron with
blankets flying and Tapping about
legs and shoulders, heads barred to the
sun.
1t was the first important college
game in which his son had played.
and the two. always great pals, had
looked forward to it from the time
when the boy had come to learn just
what foot ball meant in all its sport
Ing and traditional ramitlcations.
Hello, Dad. Glad you could make
It," Young Joyce. who was captain
of the team. came up to his father
with lightened eyes. Then. as he
glanced toward the bench and saw
girl seated there he frowned heavily.
Now. this girl merited no such signs
of disapproval. The only trouble with
her so far as Biffy Joyce was con-
cerned, was that she happened TO be
his sister.
How did Evelyn come to get on
the bench, Dad?'
oh. she wanted to come" replied
the elder Joyce. Look here. som
across the Gridiron-"you needn't be
so stuffy about Evelyn. There's a
girl with the Princeton team, too.
Biffy glanced toward the Tiger
bench. AT length he shrugged. That
isn't a girl That's a woman: the
mother, suppose, of one of the play
ers"
s the Yale freshmen galloped
"A down field through their plays.
up swept the rival team. lashed to its
work by the voice Of the quarterback.
In the poise of this slim youngster.
in the set of his head and the dy-
manic quality of his every action he
was masterful-just the sort of boy.
1t would appear. to handle bunch
of young huskies. He wore no head
guard, and the coppery sunlight rest
ed upon his blond hair and made him
an engaging figure to contemplate.
Evelyn tugged at her fathers sleeve.
Who is that Princeton quarter
back?"
Joyce shrugged.
How should know. Evelyn
What about him."
"Nothing-except he's the best look
ing player on the field.
"Humph"'
You see, he's captain. too" Evelyn
pointed toward the quarterback as he
walked out 10 mid field where Biffy
Joyce and the referee were standing.
My land. Biffy makes two of him.
What a big brute Biffy is. isn't he"
And he's acting like a surly bear.
The other looks almost too fragile for
foot ball"
RUT. Immediately the game began.
~ It appeared that the Princeton
quarterback fragility was less mat
ter Of fact than of appearance.
Yale had the better team. and it
was only this boVS intuition in dag