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Lampy Deserves Credit for Fight Against Team Mentally and Physically Infinitely Their Superior.


Once more the unquestioned superiority of the glorious daily over the lugubrious bi-weekly has been asserted; once more the boastful members of Lampy have had their hopes and incidentally, with especial reference to Captain Buel and President-elect Cromble, their astral bodies--trailed in the dust cut up by CRIMSON skates; once more they have marched sadly back to the home of freaks on Mt. Auburn street to drown their sorrows, and hope for better days.

And the irony of it! After 40 minutes of lambent, death-defying play as the game was drawing to a close, a figure shot out from the mob and down on the CRIMSON goal. It was Buel of the Lampoon. A mighty shout rose from the men of yellow streaks. But they reckoned without Hollister. In the first half as rover for the Lampoon, he had shone, nay scintillated. He had distinguished himself as the only man to be put off the ice for questionable playing throughout the game. Now, as goal for the CRIMSON, he proved his versatility. Under press of the occasion he warily approached the foe. The foe fell--not for the first time. Hollister fell--not for the first time either and in a mad tangle the two drifted through the goal, while the puck floated safely by without the coveted cage; 0 to 0 still stood the scoreboard.

Then came the fatal extra-period, with the CRIMSON playing in such a fashion as to revelate the Lampoon. To mention Phillips' ineffectual ground-covering dashes extending from the Stadium Bridge to the Cambridge Boat Club and always ending in a serious fall over the puck, the fiendish body-checking of Captain Batchelder, or the unapproachable rushes of Baker, suspected by the Lampoon to be "H.A.H." in disguise, were to insult the other members of the team. Suffice it to say that it was Baker, unhindered by the funny tired men, unaided, and unsupported who scored the winning and only goal, with the greatest of skill picking for his shot the four inches left open by the feet of Makepeace.

Recquiescat in pace, oh Lampy! Game to the end against a team infinitely your superior mentally, physically and in stick-work, your members deserve the highest tribute. Only 1 to 0 was the score against you, and that required an extra period

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