stand if you will. Come along
with me a little nearer, and let us consider it together.

HOW TO GO IN.

The ball has just fallen again where the two sides are thickest, and
they close rapidly around it in a scrummage; it must be driven through
now by force or skill, till it flies out on one side or the other.
Look how differently the boys face it! Here come two of the bull-dogs,
bursting through the outsiders; in they go, straight to the heart of
the scrummage, bent on driving that ball out on the opposite side.
That is what they mean to do. My sons, my sons! you are too hot; you
have gone past the ball, and must struggle now right through the
scrummage, and get round and back again to your own side before you
can be of any further use. Here comes young Brooke; he goes in as
straight as you, but he keeps his head, and backs and bends, holding
himself still behind the ball, and driving it furiously when he gets
the chance. Take a leaf out of his book, you young chargers. Here
comes Speedicut and Flashman, the School-house bully, with shouts and
great action. Won't you two come up to young Brooke, after locking up,
by the School-house fire, with "Old fellow, wasn't that just a
splendid scrummage by the three trees!" But he knows you and so do we.
You don't really want to drive that ball through that scrummage,
chancing all hurt for the glory of the School-house--but to make us
think that's what you want--a vastly different thing; and fellows of
your sort will never go through more than the skirts of a scrummage,
where it's all push and no kicking. We respect boys who keep out of
it, and don't sham going in; but you--we had rather not say what we
think of you.

Then the boys who are bending and watching on the outside, mark
them--they are most useful players, the dodgers; who seize on the ball
the moment it rolls out from amongst the chargers, and away with it
across to the opposite goal; they seldom go into the scrummage, but
must have more coolness than the chargers; as endless as are boys'
characters, so are their ways of facing or not facing a scrummage at
foot-ball.

YOUNG BROOKE'S RUSH.

Three quarters of an hour are gone; first winds are failing, and
weight and numbers beginning to tell. Yard by yard the School-house
have been driven back, contesting every inch of ground. The bull-dogs
are the color of mother earth from shoulder to ankle, except young
Brooke, who has a marvellous knack of keeping his legs