The warm weather continued on Friday. Between recitations The Prospect and entrances of the halls swarmed with boys, all intent on the discussion of just one subject, the morrow’s game. There was a wide difference of opinion as to the outcome of it. Fellows who two weeks ago had predicted a Yardley victory were now shaking their heads gloomily and talking defeat, while others, erstwhile pessimists, were now jubilantly prophesying a glorious triumph for the Blue. Perhaps there was somewhere a fellow who managed to put the game out of his thoughts and attend to his duty in the form of study, but if so he wasn’t in evidence. Yardley frankly consigned lessons to the limbo of things left undone, and the faculty wisely shut its eyes.