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EIGHT THIRTY-FIVE TONIGHT.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

Any organization which brings as much glory to the name of Harvard as the 1919 football team deserves the highest tribute possible. Tonight at eight thirty-five o'clock this same aggregation which traveled over six thousand miles to defeat a plucky eleven from the University of Oregon arrives in Boston. A crowd must be at the station to meet them, to overwhelm them with thanks and congratulations.

It has been no mean task the football men have accomplished. Those who have been envying the good fortune of the team in receiving a free ride across the country forget a few very important, and unpleasant details connected with the trip. All members of the team had to resume training shortly after they had broken it--an extremely hard thing to do cheerfully. They practiced on frozen ground in the Stadium when the mercury was not far above zero. They gave up a vacation to spend nearly a week on the train, practice for a few days, and play desperate football against a team which had never broken training and which had had a far better chance to become acclimated.

Let us recognize these hardships! Let us give the team credit for all that is due them and more. Let us fill the station with a mob of cheering undergraduates to make them see that we understand what a great thing for themselves and for all of us they have done.

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