A fellow who can't control his nerves and temper isn't fitted to play football--a game that requires cool judgment at every moment of the game." "Then, while you're telling me what to stop, you just stop addressing me as 'fellow,'" cried Jetson, his lip quivering with rage.
"I'll admit that was hasty on my part," agreed Midshipman Hepson, "but it seemed necessary to use some word to bring you to your senses.

And now, this fight, which would get you both into serious trouble if a discipline officer came upon the scene, must cease." "I'm afraid it can't," broke in Midshipman Dalzell with quiet dignity.
"At least, I won't agree to stopping until Mr.Jetson admits himself satisfied.

It was he who started the fight, and only his word can close it.

But we don't want you other fellows pulled into this trouble as spectators, so we'll wait until you all withdraw." "If you're determined to fight," rejoined Hepson, who was the only first classman present, "then we don't want to stop the fight.

We'll stay and see it pulled off fairly.