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Fleet 'Cliffewomen Escape Grasps Of Funsters on Perfumed Gridiron

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

'Cliffe girls were playing the same old Saturday night game yesterday in their dormitory quad with a few new Sunday afternoon rules. It all went under the heading of touch football.

With an eight man team from Dunster House reaching at their ever elusive bodies as they flew toward the goal line or the safety of the sidelines, a twelve-amazon clutch football lineup seemed to be enjoying every minute of the familiar chase.

Getting tagged is a pleasure," said one fleet Funster as he eyed the girls' flying wedge approaching and set to hurl himself into the branches of the once tightly packed lines.

Watchers obscured in the recesses of third story boudoirs eyed the crimson-wearers' unique 7-1 defense with critical eye until the hard charging line roared into the girls' backfield. With their wits about the, however, the swivel hipped runners were, as always, hard to lay a hand on and managed to wile their way touchdownward. "Skidmore'll be a pushover," one bedungareed spectator was heard to remark.

The bare legged "Cliffsters yielded not so much as a hair ribbon for three periods. Desperate in the closing minutes of the struggle, the quarterback of the Charles River Chargers called a squeeze play on the next pitch. The center was low and outside and in the shower roam he said it was the "Christmas Night" perfume of the Radcliffe left tackle that made him score a touchdown in the wrong end song.

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