ow, though. That's nine to us, isn't it, in the last three years?"

"Yes... And I took old Duncan off all games for extra-tu five years ago
this term," said the Head. "By the way, who do you hand over the Games
to, Flint?"

"Haven't thought yet. Who'd you recommend, sir?"

"No, thank you. I've heard it casually hinted behind my back that the
Prooshan Bates is a downy bird, but he isn't going to make himself
responsible for a new Head of the Games. Settle it among yourselves.
Good-night."

"And that's the man," said Flint, when the door shut, "that you want to
bother with a dame's school row."

"I was only pullin' your fat leg," Perowne returned, hastily. "You're so
easy to draw, Flint."

"Well, never mind that. The Head's knocked the First Fifteen to bits,
and we've got to pick up the pieces, or the Old Boys will have a
walk-over. Let's promote all the Second Fifteen and make Big Side play
up. There's heaps of talent somewhere that we can polish up between now
and the match."

The case was represented so urgently to the school that even Stalky
and McTurk, who affected to despise football, played one Big-Side game
seriously. They were forthwith promoted ere their ardor had time to
cool, and the dignity of their Caps demanded that they should keep some
show of virtue. The match-team was worked at least four days out of
seven, and the school saw hope ahead.

With the last week of the term the Old Boys began to arrive, and their
welcome was nicely proportioned to their worth. Gentlemen cadets from
Sandhurst and Woolwich, who had only left a year ago, but who carried
enormous side, were greeted with a cheerful "Hullo! What's the Shop
like?" from those who had shared their studies. Militia subalterns had
more consideration, but it was understood they were not precisely of the
true metal. Recreants who, failing for the Army, had gone into business
or banks were received for old sake's sake, but in no way made too much
of. But when the real subalterns, officers and gentlemen full-blown--who
had been to the ends of the earth and back again and so carried no
side--came on the scene strolling about with the Head, the school
divided right and left in admiring silence. And when one laid hands on
Flint, even upon the Head of the Games crying, "Good Heavens! What do
you mean by growing in this way? You were a beastly little fag when I
left," visible haloes encircled Flint. They would walk to and fro in
the corridor with the