It was plain that retreat was hopelessly cut off
If I may call you friend, I wish you this—
No gentle destiny throughout the years;
No soft content, or ease, or unearned bliss
Bereft of heart-ache where no sorrow nears,
But rather rugged trouble for a mate
To mold your soul against the coming blight,
To train you for the ruthless whip of fate
And build your heart up for the bitter fight.
If I may call you friend, I wish you more—
A rare philosophy no man may fake,
To put the game itself beyond the score
And take the tide of life as it may break;
To know the struggle that a man should know
Before he comes through with the winning hit,
And, though you slip before the charging foe,
To love the game too well to ever quit.
GRANTLAND RICE.
CHAPTER | |
I | The Boat That Came Down from the Sea |
II | The Mystery and Bobby |
III | Skipper Ed and His Partner |
IV | Over a Cliff |
V | The Rescue |
VI | With Passing Years |
VII | The Wolf Pack |
VIII | The Battle |
IX | The Fishing Places |
X | A Foolhardy Shot |
XI | When the Iceberg Turned |
XII | Adrift on the Open Sea |
XIII | How the Good and Sure Brought Trouble |
XIV | Visions in Delirium |
XV | Marooned in an Arctic Blizzard | <