ot a decent pass, and ran practically the
whole length of the field. Towards the end, however, the light House
grovel got tired and was penned in its own half. "Come on, House,"
Gordon yelled. "One more rush; let the swine have it!" The House was
exhausted, it managed to keep Buller's out; but no more. This was an
ominous sign. It had not been a long game.

"The Bull" had been watching the game. As the players trooped off the
field, he called back Gordon. "Caruthers, here a second. You know, I
don't want to interfere where it's not my business, but I don't think
you should call another house 'swine.' To begin with, it's not the
English idea of sport, and if there's any ill feeling between two houses
in a school, especially the two biggest, it's not good for the school.
Do you see what I mean?"

"Oh yes, sir. I didn't mean----"

"Of course you didn't, my dear chap.... By the way; will you be young
enough for the Colts' next year? You will. Good. Then it won't be at all
a bad side. Collins and Foster were quite good; and you played a really
good game."

"What did 'the Bull' want, Caruthers?" Lovelace asked as Gordon walked
into the changing-room.

"Oh, nothing much. He didn't like me calling his fellows 'swine.'"

"But why the devil not? They are swine, aren't they?"

"Of course they are; but you can hardly expect 'the Bull' to realise
it."

"No, perhaps not; but, my God, they are the last thing in swine, those
Hazlitts and their crowd."

The House supper this year was not much, compared with the one of the
year before. Simonds was not an R.D. Lovelace, and Ferguson again spoke
miles above his audience. However, he was a sport, and let them do as
they liked; so they drank his health and sang: _He's a Jolly Good
Fellow!_ Several old boys came down, FitzMorris with an eyeglass and a
wonderful tie; Sandham, as usual, quite insignificant; Armour wearing
the blue waistcoat of a Wadham drinking club. Meredith had been
expected, but at the last moment he had found his debts so much in
excess of a very generous allowance that he would have to retrench a
little. It was a pity; but in the Bullingdon living is not cheap and
Meredith was a great blood.

The prize-giving this term afforded little comfort to Gordon; he was
easily bottom of V.A. Rather a collapse, but still one has to keep up
with things. It does not do to lose sight of the really important issues
of life, and Gordon had certainly been a social success. He