Football, dear reader, is a paradoxical pastime. As the title seems to imply, the ball is the game and the game is the ball; without the ball, football page 15 is mere foot-brawl; and yet it is a curious fact that as soon as a player attempts to pick up the ball—reasoning no doubt that it is there for that purpose—he is set upon and it is taken away from him; if he insists on his rights as a citizen and refuses to give it up on the grounds that possession is nine points of the score, they sit all over his habeas corpus until the referee whistles them off, and allows THEM to boot it without let or hindrance. Does it not seem unjust that such steadfastness of purpose should be thus harshly rewarded? Another peculiarity of the game is that everyone is so anxious to possess the ball, and that when they've got it they display even greater anxiety to throw it away to someone else. No doubt it is these enigmatical enactments which make the game so interesting, but ’tis passing strange.