came from Hastings the day before, and was set up ready, and the next
day was to be the match.

But, as Burns says, "The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft
a-gley." So it was here; our plans went very much "a-gley," for I awoke
on the morning of the match with a headache, which I knew would
completely upset me for the day.

I did not know then, but I know now, that it was Polly Hopley's fault,
and that her turnovers and cake were far too rich to be eaten in
quantity by two boys sitting up in bed, and going to sleep directly
after, in spite of the crumbs and scales of crust. I just remember that
I had a bad night, full of unpleasant dreams, all connected with the
cricket match in some way. Now I was being horribly beaten; now I was
running after the ball, which went on and on, far away into space, and
would not be overtaken, and it was still bounding away when I awoke with
a start. Then I fell asleep again, and lay bound and helpless, as it
seemed to me, with Burr major taking advantage of my position to come
and triumph over me, which he did at first by sitting on my chest, and
then springing up to go through a kind of war-dance upon me, while I
stared up at him helplessly.

Then Dicksee came with his face all swollen up, as it was after the
fight, but he was grinning derisively at me, and while Burr major seemed
to hold me down by keeping one foot pressed on my chest, Dicksee knelt
by my side, and began to beat my head with a cricket bat.

_Bang, bang! bang, bang_! Blows that fell with the regularity of the
beats of a pendulum, and it seemed to me that he beat me into a state of
insensibility, for both Burr major and he faded from my eyesight, though
the blows of the bat were still falling upon my head when I awoke in the
morning; that is to say, they seemed to be falling, and it was some
minutes before I fully understood that I was suffering from a bad
bilious headache.

"Now then, why don't you jump up?" said Mercer, as I lay with my eyes
shut, and at this I got up slowly, began to dress, and then, feeling too
giddy to stand, sat down by my bed.

"What's the matter?" cried Mercer.

"So ill. Head's so bad."

"Oh, that will be all right when you've had your breakfast. Mine aches
too. Look sharp. It's ever so late."

I tried to look sharp, but I'm afraid I looked very blunt, and it took
me a long time to get dressed and down-stairs, and out in the fresh
morning air, where I walked up and do