or a
long time, do what I would, I always seemed as far as ever from the
coveted goal, and was half despairing of ever rising to win my "first
fifteen cap." Latterly, however, I had noticed Wright and a few others
of our best players more than once lounging about in the Little Close,
where we juniors used to play, evidently taking observations with an eye
to business. Under the awful gaze of these heroes, need I say I exerted
myself as I had never done before? What cared I for hacks or bruises,
so only that I could distinguish myself in their eyes? And never was
music sweeter than the occasional "Bravo, young 'un!" with which some of
them would applaud any special feat of skill or daring.

So I knew my time was coming at last, and only hoped it would arrive
before the day of the Craven match, the great match of our season--
always looked forward to as _the_ event of the Christmas term, when
victory was regarded by us boys as the summit of all human glory, and
defeat as an overwhelming disgrace.

It will therefore be understood why I was almost beside myself with
delight when, the very day before the match, Wright made the
announcement I have referred to.

I scarcely slept a wink that night for dreaming of the wonderful
exploits which were to signalise my first appearance in the Great
Close--how I was to run the ball from one end of the field to the other,
overturning, dodging, and distancing every one of the enemy, finishing
up with a brilliant and mighty kick over the goal. After which I was to
have my broken limbs set by a doctor on the spot, to receive a perfect
ovation from friend and foe, to be chaired round the field, to be the
"lion" at the supper afterwards, and finally to have a whole column of
the _Times_ devoted to my exploits! What glorious creatures we are in
our dreams!

Well, the eventful day dawned at last. It was a holiday at Parkhurst,
and as fine a day as any one could wish.

As I made my appearance, wearing the blue-and-red jersey of a "first
fifteen man" under my jacket, I found myself quite an object of
veneration among the juniors who had lately been my compeers, and I
accepted their homage with a vast amount of condescension. Nothing was
talked of during the forenoon but the coming match. Would the Craven
fellows turn up a strong team? Would that fellow Slider, who made the
tremendous run last year, play for them again this? Would Wright select
the chapel end or the other, if we