ftly and prettily, slipping in and out among his own
men, who get beside him as a sort of bodyguard, ready at any moment to
carry on the ball. It is ludicrous to see Ricketts and Winter and
Callonby flounder about after him. The fellow is like an eel. One
moment you have him, the next he's away; now you're sure of him, now
he's out of all reach. Ah! Stansfield's got him at last! No he
hasn't; but Winter has--No, Winter has lost him; and--just look--he's
past all the School forwards, no one can say how.

Young Forrester tackles him gamely--but young Forrester is no hand at
eel-catching; in fact, the eel catches Forrester, and leaves him
gracefully on his back. Past the quarter-backs! The man has a charmed
life!

Ah! Greenfield has got him at last. Yes, Mr Eel, you may wriggle as
hard as you like, but you'd hardly find your way out of that grip
without leave!

Altogether this is a fine run, and makes the School see that even with
the wind they are not going to have it all their own way. However, they
warm up wonderfully after this.

Steady is still the word (what grand play we should get if it were
always the word at football, you schoolboys! You may kick and run and
scrimmage splendidly, but you are not steady--but this is digression).
Steady is still the word, and _every_ minute Saint Dominic's pulls
better together. The forwards work like one man, and, lighter weight
though they are, command the scrimmages by reason of their good
"packing."

Wren and young Forrester, the quarter-backs, are "dead on" the ball the
moment it peeps out from the scrimmage; and behind them at half-back
Oliver and Bullinger are not missing a chance. If they did, Wraysford
is behind them, a prince of "backs."

Oh, for a chance to put this fine machinery into motion! Time is
flying, and the umpire is already fidgeting with his watch. Oh, for one
chance! And while we speak here it comes. A County man has just darted
up along the touch-line half the length of the field. Wren goes out to
meet him, and behind Wren--too close behind--advances Oliver. The
County man thinks twice before delivering himself up into the clutches
of one of these heroes, and ends his run with a kick, which, Oliver
being not in his place, Wraysford runs forward to take. Now Wraysford
has hardly had a run this afternoon. He means to have one now! And he
does have one. He takes the ball flying, gives one hurried look round,
and then makes right