Wendell, Harvard's captain and halfback, is carrying the ball. After a good gain he has all but broken free, and is prepared with his right hand to "stiff-arm" the tackier in the secondary defense. The number of men on the ground bears witness to the efficacy of the Harvard interference.

Prior to the advent of Haughton there had been a real football "school" at Cambridge which was in the front rank, but much of the scattered knowledge that had made Harvard teams formidable in the old days was solidified in Haughton, and he is to-day the best expression of what Harvard football really means. It is really beyond the line of scrimmage that Harvard's best work is done, and this in varying degree, I think, always has been the case. Like Yale, the Crimson has depended leas upon deception and more upon effective execution than most other universities, if we except some of the shifts, which, after all, were used rather to keep the strong side of the line in action. Taking Harvard's backfield men in the mass, I believe that they have shown greater ability in turning at the right point and making their direct run into the tackier count for more than the backfields of any other university, also considered in the mass. Until quite recently Harvard has not shown the resource that has been one of the outstanding features of the Yale system, and the mistakes made have been as bad as the good work was brilliant - in other words there was always something of a drift toward extremes. Beaten Harvard elevens have played a brand of football that if kept up throughout the game would have insured victory, but, once "in the hole," the Crimson has not shown the resource that would bring victory out of defeat. Even the beet that Harvard had in the way of coaching was committed to some extent to the machine idea, and when the machine idea failed, there was nothing to fall back on. Thus Harvard has in the past set before the football public more in the way of well conceived plays than any other eleven, but once these plays failed to produce the results anticipated, the machine has shown a tendency to go to pieces, save in such instances, as when beaten, it has come back, too late, to the great standard on which it had been built originally. Considered as a team type, then, Harvard has done the big things brilliantly, and the little things rather poorly when under pressure, with the result that the Crimson leaves the impression of great backfield work and fair line play. In emergencies Harvard failed - this, of course, merely the record of the past, for Harvard's football future is bright indeed.

The last few years have seen the beginnings of a change I believe to be permanent. In the years to come, if the Crimson keeps on its present course, I believe that it, like Yale, will never go very far astray, and will achieve such a foundation that when in difficulties it will be necessary to go only a little way below the surface to unearth the best football in the country.

Princeton generally does the unexpected. The Tigers are originators in football, always have been and always will be. Too much credit cannot be given to the Orange and Black for prompt acceptance of the radically changed rules, and the determination to make the most of them. The onside kick, now no longer a part of the code, is a fan-sample. This play was the most difficult to make, and at the same time perhaps the most fascinating in modern football. The Tigers took it up promptly, and while others complained of it, proceeded promptly to put it into execution. That they were never able to make it the scoring factor it promised at one time to be was not the fault of Princeton's conception or execution of the play.