“Hurrah for goalkeepers, for forwards and halves! 
      Hurrah for the clash of the sticks! 
    Hurrah for the rapture of scoring a goal! 
      (Who minds a few bruises or kicks?)
        For hockey’s the game to play,
        When autumn has come to stay,
        And this is the reason we love the cold season,
        For hockey’s the game to play.

    “But a team that is set upon scoring its goal,
      And winning a vict’ry or two,
    Must see that its field it should carefully roll,
      And that’s what we’re hoping to do! 
        Oh! hockey’s the game to play,
        When autumn has come to stay,
        Yes, this is the reason we love the cold season,
        When hockey’s the game we play!

    “Hurrah for Form trophies!  Hurrah for our badge! 
      We’ll make it an annual rule
    To hold a ‘Sports’ Concert,’ to wish all success
      To the team of the Seaton High School! 
        Oh! hockey’s the game to play,
        And at Seaton we know the way! 
        Yes, this is the reason we love the cold season,
        When hockey’s the game we play!”

Winona’s words would certainly not have passed muster as a literary composition, but their extreme appropriateness to the occasion, combined with the action of the hockey-sticks, completely brought down the house.  The applause was thunderous, and the last verse was encored twice over.  Undoubtedly it was the hit of the afternoon.

For the second part of the performance the Dramatic Society gave an amusing little play, and the concert wound up with a lusty rendering of certain patriotic songs.

Winona was highly gratified.  Both artistically and financially the entertainment had proved a success.  The committee would be well able to bear the expense of keeping the field in order.  A gardener had been at work there, and already a marked improvement was noticeable.  The Games Captain’s enthusiasm was infectious.  Under her leadership the girls became wonderfully keen.  To Winona the thrill of struggle when a game seemed on the eve of being lost was one of the wildest excitements in life, and the joy when she struck the ball home straight and true the utmost triumph obtainable.  During this autumn term she lived for hockey.  The crowd of school girls, in thick boots and blue tunics, struggling and shouting in a somewhat muddy field might not be an altogether picturesque sight, but to the Captain it was Marathon and Waterloo combined.  No colonel prided himself on a crack regiment more than Winona on her team.  Sometimes, of course, a practice was off color; the day might be bleak or drizzly, or players might be penalized for “sticks,” or grumblers might express their dissatisfaction audibly, but whatever went wrong, Winona emerged cheerful from the fray, remonstrated with “off-sides” and “sticks,” and reminded growlers that it is unsporting to murmur.  By Kirsty’s advice she had sent out challenges to several good clubs in the neighborhood.