changes, was the same as in the game played at the College.
The Toothpick-Tumbler Game.
On Saturday, November 2nd, a good sized crowd gath
ered on Beaver Field to witness the annual football game
between the Toothpicks and Tumblers. In case these lines
should be read by anyone unacquainted with State tradition,
it should be explained that the above names are the ones
applied to two elevens chosen with the utmost regard to
scantiness of corporeal accumulation on the one eleven, a
corresponding excess of avoirdupois on the other, and the
most sublime ignorance of the game of football on the part
of all the players.
John C. Clendennin, the celebrated fullback, of Mechan
icsburg, was captain of the angular and sharp pointed
Toothpicks, while “Fats” Rumbel, the two-hundred pound
center of the Ringtown Athletic Club was champion of the
Mellin’s Food aggregation. Just before the game, however,
Rumbel remembered that it was necessary for him to go
home to vote, and he accordingly left the captaincy in the
hands of his large-shadowed classmate, Harry Stoeltzing-,
ot Pleasantville.
The two teams came together with a crash which re
sembled the sound produced by the contact of a bicycle run
ning full speed, with a box of tacks. The Tumblers’ line
was punctured again and again by the sharg,pointed Tooth
picks, and time was frequently taken out in order to enable
the Tumblers to pump up wind, and to permit the Tooth
picks to give their ends (Rogers and Miller) new points.
Carl Rogers bumped his crazy bone, John Clendennin’s nose
bled, “Bunny” Cummings got out of breath, the time
keeper’s alarm-clock stopped, Stoll lost his tam-o-shanter
headgear, and all the players lost their heads. All these
misfortunes delayed the game somewhat, but at last the