s, and certainly
the stars in their courses fought against the House. Ten minutes before
time Livingstone, who had been systematically starved the whole game,
got a pass about the half-way line. He was the fastest man in the field.
No one could touch him; he made straight for the corner flag, and scored
amid the tumultuous applause of Buller's. There could be no doubt about
the result now. Before the eyes of Jones-Evans there rose a prospect of
eternally treating outhouse men to muffins. Mansell swore violently.
"The Bull" walked up and down the touch-line beaming with delight.
Simonds was silent.

"Well, you men," said Richards, "we've been beaten, but by heaven we'll
shove them the last few minutes. Go for them, tooth and nail."

The House did so. In hall that night Burgess announced that there was
not a single gentleman in the School House, a remark which resulted in a
rather unpleasant half-hour with "the Bull" two days later. For these
last minutes produced one of the most glorious charges of the day. From
the twenty-five right in to the School half, the ball was carried.
Nothing could stop that wild rush. Livingstone and Wilkinson went down
before it, but they were passed by. Burgess made a half-hearted attempt
to fall on the ball, but did not get up for several seconds, and the
House was well in the School half when Gordon kicked a little too hard
and the School back, fielding the ball, managed to find touch. But the
House was still undaunted. From the line out, the ball was flung to
Richards, who, putting his head down, literally fought his way through
the scrum and tottered out the other side. He handed off Wilkinson,
dodged the fly-half, and made for the centre of the ground. Livingstone
came across at him. "With you, Richards," yelled Lovelace.

As Livingstone brought Richards crashing to the ground, the ball was
safely in Lovelace's hands. Lovelace was about half-way between
mid-field and the twenty-five. He ran a few yards, steadied himself, and
took a drop.

In deadly silence the School watched the flight of the ball. It sailed
high and straight towards the goal. "It's over," murmured the Chief
excitedly. But as the ball neared the posts it travelled slower, a
slight breeze caught it, blew it over to the right. It hit the right
post and fell back into play. As the full-back returned it to mid-field
the whistle blew for no-side.

"School, three cheers for the House!" shouted Livingstone.

"House, thr