forth across the platform, shouting, and finally throwing his hands above his head and springing high into the air at the concluding “San—FORD!”
The Glee Club sang to mad applause; a tenor twanged a ukulele and moaned various blues; a pop¬ ular professor told stories, some of them funny, most of them slightly off color; a former cheer¬ leader told of the triumphs of former Sanford teams—and the atmosphere grew denser and denser, bluer and bluer, as the smoke wreathed up¬ ward. The thousand boys leaned intently forward, occasionally jumping to their feet to shout and cheer, and then sinking back into their chairs, tense and excited. As each speaker mounted the plat¬ form they shouted: “Off with your coat! Off with your coat!” And the speakers, even the professor, had to shed their coats before they were permitted to say a word.
When the team entered, bedlam broke loose. Every student stood on his chair, waved his arms, slapped his neighbor on the back or hugged him wildly, threw his hat in the air, if he had one—and, so great was his training, keeping an eye on the cheer-leader, who was on the platform going through a series of indescribable contortions. Sud¬ denly he straightened up, held his hands above his head again, and shouted through his megaphone: “A regular cheer for the team—a regular cheer for the team. Make it big—BIG! Ready—!”
