TRYING FOR THE TEAM
game had spread all over the country. He weighed, about two hundred and eighty pounds, mostly fat, and I don't suppose he had ever seen a canvas jacket until the day he entered college and waddled down to the field along with a lot of other green Freshmen to look at the football practice. It interested him. He was so much interested that he paid no attention to the Sophomores who were guying him about his fat and his simplicity. "I should think that game would be fun," he said in a high, squeaky voice. "I think I'll play," he announced to his classmates.
"That's right," said they, chuckling at Simple Simon; "just your game, old man."
"Yes. You see I can't play many games," smiled Simon simply, trying to peep at his boots.
"Tell the captain you are a candidate," said they, chuckling.
"Think I stand a chance?"
"A chance? It's a dead cinch."
"All right," said Simple. "I will." And he did.
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