"It is too early to pick out the crew yet," said Mr. Lighten, "as I don't know what any of you can do. So I suggest that you all have a try, and those that develop the most aptitude will come In for more consideration. Have you thought of anyone for permanent captain? Wait, though, I guess you'd better let that go until you see how you make out In rowing. And, as for the coxswain—who want's to be coxswain?" he asked.
"Don't all speak at once," he added whimsically. "Remember that, while it's a post of honor, the coxswain doesn't row, though by steering he assumes almost as much responsibility as all the rest put together, for a well-steered boat often means a winning one. We want a light weight for coxswain," and he looked over the assembled group.
No one volunteered and the coach went on:
"Well, at the risk of seeming egotistical, I'll assume that post myself, for the time being, though I'm a bit heavy. I think I can coach you better from that position—at least at the start. Now then, I guess we're ready. Whom shall we try first?"
Once more he looked around.
"Holly Cross," he called, and that lad stepped forward, then: "Kindlings, Phil Clinton, Tom Parsons, Frank, Sid," went on the coach.
A pause.
