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‘  known to those who have not, as I have, chased Jim Savage in coram and hie-spy. The boy who took to the street for security or success lost caste at once.’ The same companion says: ‘I have not seen Savage for years, but I remember him as yesterday, full of fun and courage, with his “hockey” in hand, ready to plunge into any melee to get a blow at the ball. He was thin, and light in weight, and in a severe hustle would get pushed to the outside by mere want of weight, but he was sure to go in again and again. His side at football would win if he could make it, for in rush or race it took a good player to compete with him; and yet withal he was such a gentle and noble fellow that everybody loved him, and felt that he would never do a mean thing. He was one that never complained or made a fuss if the game was not arranged to suit him; all he wanted was fair play.’ In those days, twenty years ago, Boston boys were often called into sterner encounters; there were frequently severe battles between the sons of more wealthy parents and the Irish boys. Beside these contests there were long-standing feuds between Northenders and Southenders, between Boston and Roxbury boys. Temple Place, James's home, was nearly middle ground, and those who lived in that neighborhood were ever in danger of a blow. James Savage never engaged in a quarrel if he could avoid it, but when one was forced upon him he never thought of dodging. If a friend was in trouble, or an insult offered to those who could not defend themselves, James was ready to strike; and when he did strike, it was with all his might. Many of his companions have said, in later days, that he was unconquerable as long as his strength lasted. Careless of pain, his only thought was to reduce his opponent to submission. But the boy's life was not all play; for, though not distinguished as a scholar, he was exceedingly fond of reading, particularly those books of history which treat of the wars of Greece and Rome and the Middle Ages. He never wearied of the feats of knight-errantry, and read and re-read Irving's Conquest of Granada until he had it by heart. In the winter
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