As an outsider views the result of a football victory, he sees perhaps only the bitter look of defeat on the losers’ faces, and is at a loss to understand the loyal spirit of thousands of graduates and undergraduates who stand and cheer their team after defeat.  Such a sight, undoubtedly, impresses him; but he turns his attention to the triumphant march of the victorious sympathizers around the field and watches the winners being borne aloft by hero worshipers; while hats by the thousands are being tossed over the cross bar of the goal post that carried the winning play.

The snake dance of thousands of exulting students enlivens the scene—­the spirit of glorious victory breaks loose.

After the Harvard victory in 1908, in the midst of the excitement, a Harvard graduate got up from his seat, climbed over the fence, put his derby hat and bull-dog pipe on the grass, walked solemnly out a few paces, turned two complete handsprings, walked back, put on his hat, picked up his pipe, climbed solemnly over the fence again and took his place in the crowd.  He was very businesslike about it and didn’t say a word.  He had to get it out of his system—­that was all.  Nobody laughed at him.

One sees gray-haired men stand and cheer, sing and enthuse over their Alma Mater’s team.  For the moment the rest of the world is forgotten.  Tears come with defeat to those on the grandstand, as well as to the players, and likewise happy smiles and joyous greetings come when victory crowns the day.

In the midst of a crisis in the game, men and women, old and young, break over the bounds of conventionality, get acquainted with their seat mates and share the general excitement.  The thrill of victory possesses them and the old grads embrace each other after a winning touchdown.

There may be certain streets in a college town upon which a freshman is never seen.  It may be that a freshman has to wear a certain kind of cap; his trousers must not be rolled up at the bottom.  And if you should see a freshman standing on a balcony at night, singing some foolish song, with a crowd of sophomores standing below, you smile as you realize that you are witnessing the performance of some college custom.

And if you see a young man dressed in an absurd fantastic costume, going about the streets of a city, or a quiet college town, it may mean an initiation into a certain society or club, and you will note that he does his part with a quiet, earnest look upon his face, realizing that he is carrying on a tradition which has endured for years.

You hear the seniors singing on the campus, while the whole college listens.  It is their hour.  At games you see the cheer leaders take their places in front of the grandstand, and as they bend and double themselves into all sorts of shapes, they bring out the cheers which go to make college spirit strong.

If you were at Yale, on what is known as “Tap Day,” you would view in wonderment the solemnity and seriousness of the occasion.  An election to a senior society is Yale’s highest honor.  As you sit on the old Yale fence you realize what it means to Yale men.  In the secret life of the campus men yearn most for this honor and the traditional gathering of seniors under the oak tree for receiving elections is a college custom that has all the binding force of a most rigid law.