uch as Christy, who were no longer as young as they had been. The
result was invariably the same; the First Fifteen won by forty points,
and were cursed by "the Bull" for not winning by sixty. No one could
possibly enjoy such monotony. Every week the business became more
unpopular.

"The Bull" stamped up and down with a whistle in his hand.

"I never saw such slackness. What good do you imagine you men will be in
the trenches, if you can't last out a short game of rugger like this? I
don't know what the school is coming to!"

The side, which had never been good, got worse daily. As a captain, the
younger Akerman was a nonentity. Buller was captain of the side in
everything but name.

"You know, Foster," said Gordon one Saturday evening after a more than
usually dreary performance, "these uppers are getting about the ruddy
limit."

"Have you taken all this time to find that out?" growled Foster. "I used
to like footer once. Last year we had a good time on those Colts games.
Of course the old buffalo lost his hair a good deal, but the games were
level at any rate. I can see no sort of fun in winning every time by
forty points. Why can't we have pick-up games, so as to get level
sides."

"I suppose 'the Bull' wants to get the side working together."

"Perhaps he does; but why, if there are going to be no matches till
half-way through November? The Downside match is four weeks off, and
till then we have to continue this silly farce twice a week. And, after
all, it does not teach us defence in the least. Our three-quarter men
have not to do any collaring. If we run up against a side that is any
use at attack, we shall be hopelessly dished."

"I think we shall be dished anyhow. And I am damned if I care much.
Buller has knocked all the keenness out of me, and the rest of the side
say the same thing. Do you know, I actually look forward to Corps parade
day."

"The same with me. I am fed to death with footer."

"Still we are having a jolly good time off the field."

"Are we?"

"Oh, yes; we are prefects; we haven't got to do any work, and it's
interesting coaching the kids."

Foster looked dubiously at him. He had no side to coach. He also had to
do some work for his Sandhurst exam. next term. But Gordon's crown was
as yet too fresh to feel the tarnishing damp of disappointment.

* * * * *

October went by with its red-gold leaves and amber sunlight. November
swept in bringing a