Ever hear of the 'varsity team, Clint?
Of course I may be mistaken, but I've been given to understand that they have one or two fairly good men on the 'varsity." Clint grinned.

"That's what _they_ tell you, Amy!" "Well, of all the swank!" exclaimed the other incredulously.
"What's that ?" "Side, swell-headedness, dog, intolerable conceit--er--" "That'll do.

You talk like a dictionary of synonyms." "You talk like a blooming idiot! Why, don't you know that the second team is nothing on earth but the 'goat' for the 'varsity ?" "Yes, and the 'goat' butts pretty hard sometimes," chuckled Clint.
Amy threw up his hands in despair.

"You fellows are so stuck on yourselves," he said finally, "that I suppose you'll be expecting Robey to discharge the 'varsity and let you play against Claflin!" "He might do worse, I dare say," returned Clint carelessly.
"Might do--Here, I can't stand this! I'm going out! Where's my cap ?" And Amy fled.
Clint didn't see a great deal of Amy those days except during study hour, for Amy was busy with the Fall Tennis Tournament.

Besides playing in it he was managing it, and managing it entailed much visiting in the evenings, for the tournament insisted on getting horribly mixed up every afternoon owing to the failure of fellows to play when they were supposed to, and it was one of Amy's duties to hunt up the offenders and threaten them with all sorts of awful fates if they didn't arise at some unseemly hour the next morning and play off the postponed match before Chapel.