Evening Star Newspaper, October 24, 1926, Page 88

6 B - O OCTOBER 24, 1926—PART 5. N one side of the fleld sat 10,000 persons who were silent because their throats had been strained beyond the limit of endurance: on the other side were 10,000 persons who were silent because there was nothing ahout which they might cheer. The teams lined up in Kkick-off fermation for the last play of the Jast game of the yvear. To the Red and Black of Woodland and the Gold | and Black of Markham. this was the one athletic contest of the year. The Ftruggle between the two colleges, a hattle fought each vear on the Satur- dey before Thanksgiving. had taken on an added importance this year, for it was to decide the State-as well as the city championship. Throughout the afternoon the teams had battled with traditional ferocity end courage. The record of seven years seemed certain to remain un- broken—a record of three points ar Jess difference between the teams. This was a game where dope meant mothing——as, for instance, when Markham had registered 21 first downs to Woodland’s 5, had_com- pleted 11 forward passes to Wood- and's 1, had ripped and torn and hammered and battered the Wood- ;and line! Had caused the Red and Black to fight throughout the game in the shadow of its own goal posts— ;lu((lng into play a little more than human power to check the Gold and RBlack assault. And then the Gold and Black had repared for a placement kick from he nine-yard line. Fourth down and ix to go. There was a smap, a urging together of tired, sweating dies, A filtering through of wild ad linemen—and a black-and-gold- Flad leg swung back, a cleated shoe $lunked squarely against the ball and §1 safled over the goal posts. The stands on the morth side of he field rose in a chorus of hysteria. he Boy Scouts at the end of the Rridiron posted the score: MARKHAM—3; WOODLAND—0. Markham players crowded around their halfback and cried on his #houlder and kissed him. The Wood- Jand players walked moodily toward the center of the field. They had fought thelr best—and a little better +-and defeat had come to them. Their captain spoke to the referee and then the timekeepers. ‘Fifteen seconds to pla. That meant_one more play; one and only one. Woodland's captain elected to ecefve. e turned to exhort his layers—hut his eyes filled with tears #nd he said nothing. They wera each in position, sway- $ng on their feet, eves glazed and $odies quivering protest against the rheer agony of the mauling to which 1hev had been subjected. It had been # bitter, losing siruggle, a hopeless hattle of unquenchahle courage #gainst immeasurably superior odds. Already the spectators were stream- #ng toward the exits, The referee raised his arm. “Ready Capt. Carr?” The big man nodded The referee lifted the whistle to his Jips, but abruptly he paused Over on the other side of the field the Woodland right halfback swayed # trifle, then sat down on the frozen turf. For perhaps a second he re- mnained motionless, then, as though tucked comfortably in his bed, he plllowed head on hands and passed into unconsciousness. * k¥ % HF Woodland coach cast hopeless eves up and down his hench. A few substitutes were sitting there, huddled in blankets. Most of the var: ®ity players who were not on the field Jay on the ground hefore the bench. One of them groaned with a broken sankle, one grimaced with the pain of an injured nose, others just helpless and cried Rut there was one Young man on the bench who leaned forward eagerly 4n an effort to attract the attention of the coach. Twice the mentor's eve passed him hvi then he nodded: “Warm up, Dolly Dolly Parker leaped to his feet. He aqasn’t large, perhaps feet R and weighing ahout 160. Not once had be heen in the varsity line-up. He pranced up and-down in front of the hench, throwing his knees high wwith each step. And the limp form of the right halfback from the field Dolly Parker sped across the gridivon and reported to ihe referee. The stands gave two cheers—one for the injured hero, one for the unknown sophomore who was taking his pla 2 The new man took his place far on the right of the field, within a yard of the intersection of goal and side | lines. All season he had_ scruhbed. | 1aking the battering of the varsity nneomplainingly, hoping against for- Jorn hope that the coach might notice him. The referee’s whistle cut across the field. He experienced the awful tremor which comes with the first Jick-off. And then he heard the warn Tng shout of his captain and saw that 1he oval wax spiraling directly toward him. He noticed the three-man inter- ference massing ahead of him. Then the ball struck his body and his arms folded about it. He took it in his hands and. holding it out in front of him. sldestepped a catapulting ler His eves swept the field. Where- ever he looked. there seemed to he golden. mud.streaked jerseys closing | n viciousiy, The giant ~Markham center flunz himself through the air Jiis fingers touched the adhesive tape on Parker's legs. Unconsciously he flexed the muscles of that leg and evaded the tackle. “This way!” It was the captain’s voice, and Park er obeved. But onlW for an instant The onrushing linemen of the opp ing team had heard the call. The awerved toward the Woodland ~ap- fain. Dolly Parker took three steps in that divection and then reversed his fleld. And now there were only four Markham plavers between him Felf and the goal, and the Woodland yooters. xripped by the feeling that gomething miraculous Was {rans spiring, chorused acclatm, Four men between himself and the Aistant goal posts. A big halfback of the opposing team cut in on him. Parker threw his weight on one side | @nd the tackler ploughed into the round Bl hree men now. two of them con verging toward him. The third. a veterad ;arterback. waited tensely, 4n case this human streak should suc: ceed in eluding®the other (!1“'0. It was impossible. of course. an e N They Phny- down on him from op- posite sides. To his ears came the pinister cry. “High!" and its answer from the other man: “Low He The first man ew what it meant. :':9 going to hit him chest high, the other man would dive for his knees. He did not slacken pace, but he was holding something in-reserve and he knew it. They timed him to a nicety gnd leaped at the same instant. Both touched him before they collided in mid-air—and now the red-jerseved treak, which was Dolly Parker, was inhmx across the white lines toward Only that safety man! The the goal. other 20 players were strung out be-| hind, some of them racing in hopeless pursuit, others picking themselves un from the turf and merely watching the drama P TROM both sides of the field came freasied shrieks of encouragement. Soodland howling to this new hero— lay | < they hore | WHITE wowwssssBY OCTAVUS ROY COHEN st s s Foot Ball, Temperament and Sportsmanship. Markham pleading, begging, praying to their safety man. The last play of the game. Dolly Parker knew that he had dis- tanced his” fleld. Ilie was thinkinz clearly now. Somehow this seemod no more than a practice scrimmage. He deliberately slowed down—slacken ed pace without breaking stride. He was doing what is technically termed “drifting.” The safety man knew his job. It | was his task to keep the flaming youngster from crossing the goal. That and only that. If necessary, he’d let him get to one side, and then cut him down, or else run him out of bounds —and the game would be over. Apparently Parker was traveling with all the speed at his command. His face was contorted with effort; ! he still held the ball out in front of him, ready to tuck it under his arm should the necessity arise for stiff- arming with ‘the left. They drew closer and closer to- gether. It was certain that they were destined to meet—body crashing against body—and the ~Markham quarter was a deadly tackler. The stands were hushed. A clean tackle meant victory for Markham-—- la failure meant a touch-down ani glory for Woodland. In all the gath- ering of 20,000. only two persons counted: Dolly Parker and the quar- terback of the Markham team. And now they were close-—closer. There was a hysterical shriek as the gold-jerseved figure shot through the air. And at that instant Dolly Parker came to life. He dug his cleats little deeper, flexel his muscles a trifle more tightly--and fairly leaped ahead. The quarter- back barely touched him—then crumpled on the ground sobbin. And now the Woodland stands shrieked and screamed and cried as the lithe, boyish figure flashed down the field for the 35 yards intervening between the prostrate figure of the Markham quarter and the goal line. The cheering was a bedlam. Tnco herent barks and hoarse-throated screams and a great sob arose from 20,000 throats as Dolly Parker crossed the line. And that was all. There was no necessity for the attempt at point after touchdown. The game was over. The timekeeper's whistle had blown. And Woodlawn had won 6 10 3. * x K ¥ OLLY PARKER was dazed. He stood under the goal posts with chest heaving and legs feeling queer- ly all gone. And the varsity swooped down upon him and seme of them put their arms around him and others cried like habies, and big Reb Rogers fell face down and sobbed and sohbed. The students swarmed about them and lifted Dolly Parker on their houlders and bore him from the field. Tears were streaming from their eves and they were very boyish and very foolish and very sentimental. It Was a beantiful and wonderful and {silly experience—and Dolly Parker | Was reveling in the momen: which | Would make all life worth while for s 1 £ course. His letter—of course. @ressing room. the hard-faced. sof: hearted coach expressed his opinion: “Oh' Dolly—Dolly—what a_louse [ 've been. All season I've used you as a serub plunger. I'm a rottea | hum. But wait 'til next year. Just wait until next vear! And that was the motif of the hys- pervaded the campus “Wait_until next vear: wellest halfback O e ek with ua afl year and W v e conference wit e famt know it But now— Retween the closing of the foot ! pall season and the Christmas holi- | days Dolly Parker was the campus hero. He was placed upon a pedestal. | not only hecause of his mazmnr:}:n achievement hut also beca e of what | romised for the future. iheu‘: ::;Ldo a frat and was elected | | vice' president of his class. When Spring training petiod came along | | Bl Boswell. the coach, worked ind | atigably with him. T ewell saw many things. He that while Dolly's historic run | |in the Markham game might never| | he repeated. the young man had the| | makings of a great foot ball player - | one of the flashy. twisting, squirming. | saw | open-field men who make foot ball | history. ! g * ok kX | QPRING training was more ar- Woodland was ous than usual. a A i men in addi- -eturning efght varsit e Doty Parker. “Added to that | Imposing array was a list of flashy, freshmen. Boswell arranged a ten- | tative line-up and put them through | signal drill. y | “Speed — everything That's what we want | speed and trickery. Here com Waondland—there they go! That's us | next season. ('mon. Rogers—little bep there. Give ‘em the 84-31 play: | | double hackward pass an’ a forward | to Dolly Parker! Attaboy, Parker! | Thassit! Cut cut in! You got it. Dig. lad. dig | With the passing of the day ! heeame certain that Woodland to have a team which would make | its bid for fame. The student body Wwas delivious with hope. Here was minor speed. next vear for the chance for which every | college longs—the opportunity to flash across the firmament where big universities belong. Par- Iy they were thinking about | the opening game against State. Woodland alwi opened State's schedule—a warming-up contest for the great conference champions. Perhaps. in September—well. it cer- tainly wasn't beyond the realm of | possibility. | Then came the breaking up of | school for Summer. In mid-August the foot ball squad reported at River Camp, where it went through a con- ditioning process. “Big time stuff | That's us. If we don't have a team this year we never will ht var- sity regulars back. including two| three-vard ends. And Dolly Parker.| And six as promising freshmen as /| we've had in "mon boys! | Dig in—speed! ~Thassus i | Spneed’ Speed! It hecame the { shibboleth of the little college. | Speed and trickery. Hour after l\nur‘ | Boswell gave the squad skull prac- tice. Each man was to have a cer- tain job to do in each play and | was to be letter-perfect in doing it. | And then he tossed out a haif a dozen new foot balls and worked weary. M vou ean't handle a foot ball | vou ain't worth a darn. Just keep on practicing. You gotta get so that | if a foot ball was to hit you when | you was asleep, it'd stick In your fingers. 3 | ""The foot ball camp was “informal. | Formal practice, as permitted un- der conference rules, started the day college opened. The team trot- ted out on the fleld in the condition which comes usually only after a | gruelling month of conditloning. | The student body marveled. They | particularly marveled at Dolly Par- | | ker. He was a bundle of steel| | springs—in the early scrimmages it | | was Parker. Parker, Parker. They didn't stop to analyze that these | biays had been planed just that way 2o that Parker could star. Dolly | Was doing wondera, but there were | 10 other men helping. State’s husky squad arrived dis- dainfully for the opening game. State's coach ‘wondered ‘what it was all about when he saw 10,000 persons in the stands: usually this game drew around three or four thousand. He didn't know that rumors had circulated through the city that those who knew foot ball believed that this was to be a real game and not a practice scrimmage. It was. State kicked off to Wood- land. Harrington received and re- turned 12 yards. The Red and Black was lined up before State knew what it was all about. Dolly Parker barked the signals—the ball came to a half- back. He dug in for right end. the full-back running beside him and a trifle to the rear. A big State and swooped down on the man carrying the ball and he flipped it to the full- back. fThe full-back slowed down, measured the fleld and then flipped a forward pass across what had been the line of scrimmage. They caught Dolly Parker after he had run 63 yards. It was a daring play; an unthinkable, impertinent play—a play which violated every precedent. But it had worked. That afternoon Woodland stepped into the front rank of conference colleges. When the game ended, State staggered from the fleld: battered. bruised, bewildered. ‘*Seventeen to nothing—and we never had a chance! .I\" who in thunder is this fellow Parker?"” The Sunday papers all over the section asked the same question the following morning. A new Eckersall, a new Millin, a new Thorpe! Dolly Parker of Woodland—already a maker of conference history. That was the beginning of Wood- land's greatest foot ball season. The team played as a unit. Instead of pointing for a single game, the team was pointed for every game. It swept through the first part of the schedule like a hurricane. There was no stopping it. Woodland attracted the attention of sports writel And they, keen for the dramatic and seeking the color- ful, selected Dolly Parker as the subject for their encomiums. Dolly Parker's picture was syndi- cated a half-dozen times and ap- peared in newspapers from Portland to Minneapolis and San Antonio. He was the outstanding figure of his section—nor was his glory dimmed when State, overrun 17-to-0 by Woodland, journeyed North and held one of the most powerful Eastern elevens at a tie score. * ok ok Xk OLLY PARKER would have been less than human had all of this adulation not gone to his head. Asa matter of fact. it affected him less than it would have most young men. But, after all, he was 20 years old. an emotional type, and the foot-ball-lov- ng populace howed its collective head and worshiped. There is no question of the fact that Dolly Parker became arrogant. There Is no question of the fact that he be- lieved he was accomplishing these miracles singlg-handed. Save from the lips of Rill Boswell, he grew in- tolerant of criticism. The other mem- bers of the team resented his atti- tude. “Big head—that's what he's got.” They were seated in the room of Reb Rogers, the glant tackle. “This is my third varsity vear, and I know what I'm talking about. I know as much about foot ball as Dolly will ever know—and 1 realize he isn't doing it himself. There isn't a team that works together llke we do. We're blocking like a machine and running interference that a cripple could get through on. Mind you, I ain't saying that Dolly isn't a great plaver, but. by gosh! he hasn't any right to get high-hat with us, and T'm not going to stand for it." That was the heginning. Tt was the first time the squad had heard Reb Rogers utter a word against any one, and Reb was perhaps the most pop- ular man student at Woodland. He was big and drawly and good-hu- mored—a quiet-voiced, calm chap who 1ooked on life with a smile. They knew Reb was right. Nothing upstage about Rogers. Fine chap, doggone it! Why didn't he come in for some of the glory The squad took to being sorry for Reb. It grew resentful of Dolly Parker, even while it was proud of him. The feeling against Parker did not crystallize immediately. It was a process of slow development, but the seeds of dissension had been sown on fertile ground and they sprouted surely—but not quickly enough to mar the season of Woodland's grid- iron achievement. Markham was slaughtered by a 34-0 score—the only one-sided score in the history of the two institutions. Dolly Parker had flamed across the field” magnificently _throughout the game, the team working with him in absolute certainty and precision. The game was interesting only as an ex- hibition of perfect foot ball. And then the following week the varsity banquet was held and the election of a captain for the next vear. For some time there had been a deal of campus conjecture. The squad didn't want to elect Parker. Its choice was Reb Rogers—and Rog- ers called them aside Indiyidually and in_groups. “Nothing doing. fellows. We've got to elect Dolly. He gives me a pain in the tonsil—but that hasn't any- thirg to do with it; everybody in the country knows him, and if we don't spot him captain there'll be an awful howl." “But Reb, we you! “I won't serve, so there isn't any use. I'm not saying I wouldn't like to. And I'll be honest and say that I think I'd make a better captain. But for Woodland's sake, we've got to elect Dolly Parker.” And so Dolly Parker was elected Woodland captain. He accepted the honor quite casually, and expressed the belief that he could lead them through to an even more successful season. He finished his talk by thanking the other members of the team for their work — “Really, fel- lows—you all plaved good foot ball-— every one of you! A simple statement of fact—simply made. But it went deep and rankled. ‘They discussed it after the meeting. “You'd think we hadn't done any- thing—that there wasn't but one man on the fleld. sicl IT was an unhealthy situation and one certain to hear fruit. A hint of it was received in Spring training. were counting on * k% Kk Exercising his prerogative as captain, | Dolly took to ordering the around. They resented it _bitterly— particularly Reb Rogers. He had a keen foot ball sense and didn't like to be told what to do—not by Dolly Parker anyway. At preseason training camp the fol- lowing August Parker worked as hard as the others, biit it was evident that he considered himself a little better than the other members of the team. The veteran lettermen resented the attitude, and the graduates of the freshman squad and the more prom- ising subs from the preceding vear became inoculated with the spirit of Pebellion creeping through the camp. Dolly was unaware of any change. There was no consclous desire on his part to lord it over the others, but he sincerely believed that Woodland's chances rested on his shoulders and he enthusiasticaily assisted Bill Bos- well in devising -plays which would give him greater opportunities for starring. When the litile college opened {ts doors to the biggest freshman class in history —thanks to the brilliant Dolly Parker makes me | 4 7 : record of the 'team the preceding year—the name Parker was heard almost as frequently as the name of ‘Woodland. State had respectfully declined an opening date this year. and a little college was booked. Banners were flung to the local breezes: FOOT BALL. WOODLAND (with Doily Parker) NIVERSITY. Dolly Parker, Dolly Parker. Me- Kenzie was swamped. Only the in- Jection of a flock of substitutes in the second half kept the score under a hundred. Practice became dally more rig- orous; the freshman class included some wonderful material and fur- nished the varsity with some stiff scrimmages. Bill Boswell drove and drove and drove—speed, cunning—and then more speed. Exactitude was his byword. Some of the scrimmages against the freshmen took on the ferocity and bitterness of regular games. The general public knows little of foot ball practice. It does not see the dally grind—the battering and hammering, the merciless criticism, the flerce combat, sa color and applause. It is the practice which tests men, for 1t is nothing but hard. hard work, minus the exultation of a big game. And it was during these long, grinding afternoons of scrim- mage that the sentiment against Dolly Parker erystallized into a deep, | Tllllen. thoroughly understandable dis- ike. Nine varsity men on the team—fine | players—affording Dolly Parker oppor- tunity to add laurel to his wreath. Nine experienced men to take orders from him on the fleld. to accept his criticism when plays went wrong. To make matters worse, Bill Bos- well seemed (o have acquired the Dolly Parker complex. He was, per- haps, the worst of the lot. Occa- sionally he criticized Dolly, but when he did it was quietly and without vitriol. The red flag of danger was un- ‘furled to the breeze in the annual clash with State. The dope was all in favor of Woodland. which had re- turned almost intact the team which whipped State the previous year, 170, | and State had only five letter men in her line-up. But State was taking very seriously this year. Eighteen thousand people jammed into the stadium. And 18,000 people watched in amazement the grim battle in Woodland territory, a battle during the course of which Dolly Parker flamed only occasionallv—a battle which went to State by 7-2 score. 'R STAI the game LE! that was the cry that went up. Stale! The wonder team had {been pointed too early. But Wood- land wasn't stale—it hadn't even reached the peak of condition. It was simply that Woodland had not played as a unit. Each individual had given his best—to Woodland—but not to Dolly Parker. Somehow. State had sifted through time and again to throw him for disastrous losses. Spec- tators groaned: “Dolly’s flat-footed to- day. He can't seem to get started.” Dolly was critical of himself. It never struck him that the line hadn't been doing its share. Reb Rogers and his Intimates were miserable, but it didn't occur to them that the fault was theirs. They did not know that the mechanical preci- sion which had made the team wonder- ful the previous vear had been de- stroyed by the personal feeling against Dolly Parker. The following Saturday the team played one of the higgest universities in the East. And there, away from home, the eagerness to win overshad- owed the anti-Parker sentiment and Woodland functioned as it should It won 100, followed, but the have against State. vieto Another BY STERLING HEILIG. PARIS, October 11, 1926. HIS will interest Americans as much as Frenchmen, said a Paris architect, pointing to a controversy in the papers. It concerns the measures just begun to make Mont Saint-Michel, the eight marvel of the world, visible as well as accessible. The ancient abbey at the [ | peak of its island rock rises offshore where Normandy and Brittany meet —in the midst of ecruel, crawling quicksands, over which the tide | comes running in, faster than a horse can galiop. It is the everlasting danger and beauty of far-famed Mont Saint-Michel. Can they remove the danger without killing the beauty? That is the ques- tion. More than 10.000 American soldiers —perhaps 50,000 or 100,000—came, in war time, by squads, in motor trucks and afoot to this wonder site. from their rest stations at Saint-Malo, a little further west along the English Channel. Tourists have always been coming —400.000 came last vear, alone. Be- fore the tourists the pilgrims came to Mont Saint-Michel for a thousand vears. All of them were always warned. as all since have been warned continually. of the sudden treachery of the beautiful sands and sea! The rock is half a mile around at the base and 250 feet high where the church spires are planted. and it is nearly 2 miles from the shore. The tide goes out 10 miles over the shal- low bottom, leaving bare and quiver- ing wet sands. which tempt a man to cross over those 2 miles on foot. Then, perhaps, when he is within a | few vards of the foot of the rock— tand a run and jump ought to bring him to safety—the treacherous sands hold his feet, drawing him down. and the waves of the returning tide gallop back to overwhelm him! It was reported at the time that more than a few American soldiers were resued from the quicksands in dire danger — such rescues could be made, because there were many with- in running distance of each other. Once a lone doughboy was reported drowned and his body never recover- ed. If true, it went into the unre- corded fataliges of the war. To prevent such fatalities and yet allow the curious to see safely and at leisure how rock, sands and sea con- spire against them, the new works are being undertaken. They are great works, which con- tinue works already done; but, in par- ticular, they rectify them, because they were helping visitors to safety by what threatened to destroy alto- gether the antique splendor of the place. “Visible as well as safely accessible: is the new watchword. Heretofore the works for easy ac- cess have proved almost a disaster. A causeway was built from the shore to the island, over which even motor cars could pass safely (lthe F refich‘ Begin Wor MONT SAINT-MICHEL, THE FAMOUS ISLAND-ROCK WHICH IS CROWNED BY ABBEY CHURCH. TWO MILES | FROM FRENCH SHORE OF THE ENGLISH CHANNEL. THE ROCK IS 250 FEET HIGH. | GET EVEN WITH ME.” I'lowed on the heels of depression. and “YOU'RE PLAYING TRAITOR TO WOODLAND . . . YOU'RE THROW- ING DOWN YOUR COLLEGE TO 7 team play was ragged. And then came | a defeat by a college which Woodland should have beaten by three fouch- downs. Experts left the field bewll- dered. Each member of the team had played magnificently. No man had knowingly shirked. But the feeling against Parker marked that difference of the fractional part of a second which makes for perfection. The balance of the se succession of amazing reversals. Teams which were doped to defeat Woodland were crushed. Other teams. admittedly weak, defeated the Red and Black. It was a miserable yvear, & year during which exaltation fol n was a was Immediately succeeded by worse depression. One day Dolly Parker was a great hero: the next he was criticized fiercely and openly Even Bill Boswell, wise asx he was in foot ball. did not know. for instance, that Stumpy Williams had thrown a pass a split second before it should have been thrown. All he saw was that it was a perfect play and a per- fect pass—and that Dolly had not been there to receive it. And gradually Dolly hegan to un- derstand. He didn't welch. That wasn't Dolly's way. In spite of the very natural air and arrogance which had come to him he was pretty much of a man, and he took his medicine standing up. Of course he understood, and he hated them for it. He could have taken | his theory to Bill Boswell, but he wasn't that kind. He accepted the defl and met the team in conscious battle. He'd jolly well show ‘em wha was captain of that team, He was sharp on the field. quick in rebuke and slow in praise. He watched every play criticallv. The other men —who had never analyzed—misunder stood again: “Dolly’s slipping. and he's trying to blame us for it. 1 guess he's pretty quick at that, but 1 didn’t notice him handing us anything last yvear \\h?r\l they were proclaiming him a wonder. That's always the way with these temperamental stars. They hog the praise and dispense the blame. Well, I guess I can’t play any better than T have heen, and that's all there is to_it.” | The city was on the qui vive over | the annual clash with Markham. Markham had a strong team. no doubt ! k to Make World Marvel More Accessible to the Tourist Public foot of the rock. It was higher than all but the highest tides. What happened? The devil tides were balked of their onslaught round the rock and began their revenge. Slow little by little, they banked the sands along the causeway, and then the moving sands of the bay came higher and higher up toward the shore and stayed. The alarm went out that, unless something be 8one, Mont Saint-Michel would soon cease to be an island and become like any other cliff of the coast. The architecture of the glorious old church and abbey would remain, but the strange beauty of the place (and the dangerous but uniquely interest- ing galloping of the wild tides around it) would be gone forever. A business company even came for- ward to propose: “Let us add dikes to the causeway, and in a short time we will dry up 9,000 acres of good new land from the bay. That is how the Dutch have taken Helland.” This shocked all French patriots, as well as art lovers. They might also answer this present vear, from even the coarse, material standpoint, “What will the revenues of your pal- try 9,000 acres be cumpared to the half million tourists vearly who come to see this marvel of the world!" The patriotism Is genuine. This rock fsland figured in the expedition of William the Conqueror, when he set out to make himself Norman King of Saxon England, just across the waters of the Channel. tht English Centuries afterward, successors of William tried their best to take such a natural fortress close to | the Norman shore. Actually, they took and held the adjoining little island of Tombelaine until 1450. | Tombelaine is now to be utilized for visibility. It is to give visitors the marvelous sight heretofore denied them, unless they brave the elements at_peril of their lives! Cuttings have been made under the | | unlucky causeway, indeed, to let the | 10-mile rush-back of the tide circle ers and spires of Mont Saint-Michel through the 2-mile channel that sepa. causeway altogether and ferry sight- seers over, as in old times. But, even =o, few visitors would see it. What all desire to see—and so few obtain—is the greatest sight of all— the tidal waves galloping in’ Little Tombelaine Island, two miles eastward, gives this, At sunset, par- ticularly, when the Gothie walls, tow- ers and spires of Mont Saint-Micinel stand out in dark reliet against sky and sea aglow, all the curves of shin- ing sand yield to the rushing streams of tide—Iit comes uniquely in galloping streams! Since the war—American soldiers began it—visitors have discovered the wonder scene from Tombelaine. This year motor boats convey them con- | tinually. But what is it among 500,000 clamoring sight-seers? No use to try to see the sight from | Mont Saint-Michel Island ftself' From | the little hotel at the foot of the ah. | bey, you see only the few houses clus. | tering around. From the narrow beach | finely drilled in foot ball fundamen- | plaver in Of course, it was a typleal rather slow, about that. Markham team-—heavy tals, a defensive organization with a steam-roller offensive, It was pre- cisely the sort of team which Wood- land should beat by a huge score. ok ok ¥ HE Red and Black was fidgety as it took the fleld. Dissension had reached the breaking point. The chee were all for Dolly Parker and the team, but Dolly was the only individ- ual whose name was barked at the end of the Woodland rahs. The squad knew that the public considered that it had fallen down, and that Dolly Par- ker was as great as ever. It resented the fact. Woodiand recefved the kickoff. In- stantly it tried a split buck which net- ted four yards. A sweeping run around gained 12 more, thanks to Reb Rogers’ perfect interference. The stands cheered Dolly Parker, who had carried the ball. The team squirmed. Reb knew and the team knew that Rogers' name should have been on the end of that cheer and not Par- ker's. Four yvards—six—first down. Then they were held twice, and Parker sig- naled a punt formation. himself back. The ball was snapped. He streaked to | the right and backwards. balancing the ball in his right hand. The Mark- ham captain shrieked the warning “Pass!" to his secondary. Then Dolly cut in. Reb Rogers was hetween him and a Markham tackle. There was no reason why Reb should have failed to block that man out of the play. But he didn't. Parker was thrown for & 14-vard loss. As the teams lined up he expressed his opinion: “What's gotten into you, Reh? Are you asleep — letting that fellow through?" “Aw! Can it! If you'd been awake, he'd never have gotten you. I blocked him out, and you cut right into him." The team was all with Reb Rogers. Dolly again called for punt formation. And then things happened. The cen- ter and both tackles sifted through on the play. Dolly's punt was blocked— the stands groaned—it seemed as though Dolly had delayed unneces. sarily. The ball struck a Markham the chest and rolled back toward the Woodland goal. A Mark- ham end scooped it up and sped for a touchdown. They lined up on the -yard line. and an extra point was | added. | Markham. 7; Woodland, 0. Here was | the break of the game—_the impossible. | the unexpected. Woodland elected to | receive again. and when the teams clashed it was a different Markham— a team which helieved it had a chance to defeat its bitterest rival, the State’s wonder team. Woodland made two first downs, one on a beautiful forward pass, Snyder to Rogers, the latter having shifted to end on the play so as to be eligible as a receiver. The Red and Black | stands rose and cheered: *Rah! Rah! Rah! Tears!" Then Markham held, and Parker punted, a long spiral which went 50 yards over the line of scrimmage. The Gold and Black launched a driv- ing offensive: employed its weight in nibbling tactics; six yards—one—four first down. One vard—no gain--eight rds—and then a smashing offtackle ay which vielded another first down. Hammer, ‘hammer, bang—rip—tear! Woodland was playing brilliant in- dividual foot ball, and that was all. It was not functioning as a team. Eleven Woodland players threw them- selves into every play, seeking per- | haps to salve their consclences by bruising their bodies. But the ex- quisite coherence of thelr play was gone. The feeling against their cap. tain was responsible. Woodland found fitself fighting a losing battle. The Red and Black stands were appalled. Woodland held on its own 6.yard line, and Mark- ham’s try from placement went wrong. Woodland's ball on its own 20-vard | line. Parker—understanding the situa- tion—was plaving an inspired game. But he was getting no help. Inter. ferers weren't where they were sup- posed to be. Time after time he was thrown for losses. All through the balance of that quarter and through- out the second perfod he was caught before he started. The stands mur- mured: “I told you so. Yah! Didn't| I always say this here Dolly Parker was a fluke? Look at him now. Yeller! Quitting! Laying down Iike a dog just because his team ain't winning!" The new feeling penetrated to the fleld. Dolly sensed the current of | adverse comment. He knew in stinctively that they thought he was yellow—a quitter—a front runner to | star when things were going well, and | to lay down when the breaks were | against him. | Dl * ook % 'HE half ended with the bail in the middle field. Bill Boswell scarce. Iy knew what to say. He did not dis cern the lack of teamwork: he, too. saw only that the team was plaving brilliant individual foot ball—and that Dolly Parker was not getting away as he should. He didn't want to ride Parker. The: Woodland squad was not ashamed, because the Woodland squad didn't know what it was doing. Its actions were reflex—born of resent- ment and nurtured in bitterness. Only Dolly Parker understood—and there was nothing he could say. The second half opened with a flerce succession of scrimmages and a fruitless exchange of punts. Then farkham got the ball and tore down the field. And this time the kick from placement did not go wrong. Straight | and true. spinning end over end from the toe of the big lineman who was rates it from the Norman coast. It is even part of the plans to abolish the 1 below, you see only flat waters riaing slowly. called back for the try, it ealled over uun-hu;a the Boy Sceuts at | Woodiand benéh. | closing the scoreboard altered the tetal te read: MARKHAM--10; WOODLAND—0. Woodland received. Dolly barked the signals for one of their pet plays, a sweeping run around right end. with a backward pass, and then a long toss acrosa the line of scrimmage to himself. The play failed—came within an inch of being intercepted. Another trick play was tried. A big guard came lumbering through and Dolly was thrown for a loss. He dropped back at the triple threat point of a punt formation—and his punt was blocked. Woodland reco ered by sheerest good luck, and it was fourth down with 22 yards to go. Dolly Parker rose from the groun he was quivering with futile ange He signaled the referee for time out. Then he called the team ahout him. v came, all except Reb Rogers. voice rang out sharply: Come here!” came, his face red with . And_then, with a volce which trembled with bitterness, Dolly Parker spoke. “'T want to tell you just what I think of vou. You're a bunch of yellow s You're quitting! And vou're doing it hecause you're sore at all the notice and attentfon I received last vear and this! % “Bill Boswell don't know what's the matter. The studes don't krow. But you know—and I know “Yeh—get sore if vou like. You ought to. Now listen to me. This means specially you, Reb Rogers: Listen— He thrust his head forward vi Iy. You know what vou're doing? No? I do. You're playing traitor to Wood- land, that’s what. You're throwing down your college to get even with me! | guess you're having a fine time, knowing that the spectators think I'm laying down under fire, eh? That's what you want, is it? Well, you're going to get what you want. “Me—I'm going to lay down. I'm going to quit. But I'm not doing it to betray Woodland. I'm going to quit because T want to see Woodland win.” v were staring at him, wide-eyed and speechless. “The college is bigger than T am.” he said. 1 want to see Woodland win Reb Kogers. you're captain of the team: I'm taking myself out!” He turned and walked toward the For a few seconds the team did not move—then three of them. headed hy Reb Rogers, darted in pursuit. cia Dolly! Don't do anything like that “Get away from me. I'm out. Now see what you can do. Rogers." He reported himself out of the game. Bill Boswell sent in a substitut “I knew you were hurt, Dolly. 1 knew it all the time.” “Yeh," Parker’'s voice was scarcely audible. “I am. But there ain't any thing wrong with me physically.” A newspaper man rushed up for an explanation. Dolly gave it. “I took myself out,” he said crisply. “I wasn't any good." The reporters returned to the prass stand. Word filtered through the crowd. Meanwhile play was resumed. Woodland punted—and then the game really started. Under Reb Rogers the Red and Black played as a unit. Markham fatled to gain and was forced to punt. The kick was hurried. Woodland unleashed brilliant attack. Every plav went off perfectly. Down the fleld they drove with a hint of the foot ball which had made thelr preceding season glorfous. * o ox ok HROUGH it all Dolly Parker sat on the bench, staring at the fleld. Closer and closer to the goal line ripping, tearing, flashing trick plays when least expected—a touchdown near the end of the third quarter, an other at the beginning of the fourth period and a third one just before the whistle for a final score of 19—10, and the third Woodland vie- tory in three years. The crowd swarmed down oh the field. Spectators howled approval to Reb Rog Everywhere could he heard caustic comment against Dolly Parker. The public understood every thing now—quite everything! It unde, stood clearly that Parker never had heen any good—that he had received credit for what others had done. That was very clear. The team reached the shower-room. Dolly was seated alone in the corner. The other men ed him gulltily No one apoke. Reb Rogers came in and there “gleamed in the eyes of the big tackle a suggestion of that light which had flamed from Parker's faca when he took himself out of the game. Neb Rogermwalked across the room to Dolly Parker. The slighter man rose—walting. Rogers dropped both hands on Dolly Parker's shoulders. He spoke in a voice not at all steady. “Dolly."” he sald, “I've been talking to the newspaper men. I—I've been sort of explaining to them that Dolly Parker licked Markham single-handed T've been telling them—telling a flashing. And then a strange thing ned —a thing which was beautifully sen- timental and silly. They faced each other in the center of a ring of battered, grimy foot ball players, in an atmosphere which reek- ed ‘of dirt and liniment. And quite suddenly and simpl without shame or embarrassment—these two men put their arms about each other and cried like babies. And old Bill Boswell —Bill Boswell, the hard-hoiled —was the only specta: tor who commented. “'Ain’t that beautiful””’ he whispered reverently. “Alp't that just simply perfectly beautiful””’ (Copvright 1926.)