get stale, and soon Claremont's
became a name for mediocrity. As a house it was like V. B, a happy land
where no one worried about anything, and it was quite safe to smoke in
the studies on a Sunday afternoon. A side made up of two houses that had
never played together before was bound to lack the combination of a side
that had played together for several weeks. But the School House was
always playing against superior weight and strength, and more than once
had found itself unable to sustain their efforts, and after leading up
to half-time went clean to pieces in the last ten minutes. It is pretty
hard to hold a "grovel" several stones heavier for over an hour, and
this year even Armour was a little doubtful about the lightness of his
side. To Gordon and Jeffries, of course, defeat seemed impossible. Last
year Jeffries had played in a winning side and Gordon had yet to see the
House lose a match. But Mansell smiled sadly; he had played in a good
many losing sides. Gordon dreamed football night and day. He saw himself
securing wonderful last-minute tries, and bringing off amazing collars
when all seemed lost. But all his hopes were doomed to disappointment.
Two days before the game he slipped coming downstairs, fell with his
wrist under him, and with his arm in splints and sling had to watch from
the touch-line an outhouse victory of ten points to nothing. The usual
thing happened--the House was just not strong enough. Jeffries played a
great game, and fought an uphill fight splendidly; Lovelace only missed
a drop goal by inches; Fletcher, an undisciplined forward, did great
damage till warned by the referee. But weight told, and during the whole
of the last half the House were penned in their twenty-five, while the
school got over twice. Very miserably the House sat down to tea that
evening. It added insult to injury when an impertinent fag from Buller's
walked in in the middle and demanded the cup. Armour managed to keep his
temper, but that fag did not forget for weeks the booting Gordon gave
him the next day. Still it was a poor revenge for a lost cup.

Whatever little chance there had ever been of Gordon getting a place in
the Two Cock was, of course, quite destroyed by his accident. The doctor
said he ought not to play again for at least three weeks. And so it was
that, as far as football was concerned, Gordon found himself rather out
of it. All his friends were in the thick of everything. Mansell was
captain of the