t," said the master, "or else, fag as you were,
you would have shouted with the whole school against putting down old
customs. And that's the way that all the Doctor's reforms have been
carried out when he has been left to himself,--quietly and naturally,
putting a good thing in the place of a bad, and letting the bad die
out; no wavering and no hurry,--the best thing that could be done for
the time-being, and patience for the rest."

"Just Tom's own way," chimed in Arthur, nudging Tom with his elbow,
"driving a nail where it will go"; to which allusions Tom answered by
a sly kick.

"Exactly so," said the master, innocent of the allusion and by-play.

JACK RAGGLES'S INNINGS.

Meantime Jack Raggles, with his sleeves tucked up above his great
brown elbows, scorning pads and gloves, has presented himself at the
wicket; and, having run one for a forward drive off Johnson's, is
about to receive his first ball. There are only twenty-four runs to
make, and four wickets to go down, a winning match if they play
decently steady. The ball is a very swift one, and rises fast,
catching Jack on the outside of the thigh, and bounding away, as if
from india-rubber, while they run two for a leg-bye[37] amidst great
applause and shouts from Jack's many admirers. The next ball is a
beautifully pitched ball for the outer stump, which the reckless and
unfeeling Jack catches hold of, and hits right round to leg for five,
while the applause is deafening; only seventeen runs to get with four
wickets,--the game is all but ours!

[37] #Leg-bye#: the ball glances from the batsman's leg.

It is over now, and Jack walks swaggering about his wicket, with his
bat over his shoulder, while Mr. Aislabie holds a short parley with
his men. Then the cover-point hitter, that cunning man, goes on to
bowl slow twisters. Jack waves his hand triumphantly toward the tent,
as much as to say: "See if I don't finish it all off now in three
hits!"

Alas, my son Jack! the enemy is too old for thee. The first ball of
the over, Jack steps out and meets, swiping[38] with all his force. If
he had only allowed for the twist! but he hasn't, and so the ball goes
spinning up straight in the air as if it would never come down again.
Away runs Jack, shouting and trusting to the chapter of accidents, but
the bowler runs steadily under it, judging every spin, and calling
out: "I have it," catches it, and playfully pitches it on to the back
of the stalwart Jack, wh