wling of babies; and see! Nick, who gave the catch, and pretends he
did it out of commiseration for Fallow field, the ball has flown from
his bat sheer over the booth. If they don't add six to the score, it
will be the fault of their legs. But no: they rest content with a fiver
and cherish their wind.

Yet more they mean to do, Success does not turn the heads of these
Britons, as it would of your frivolous foreigners.

And now small boys (who represent the Press here) spread out from the
marking-booth, announcing foremost, and in larger type, as it were,
quite in Press style, their opinion--which is, that Fallow field will
get a jolly good hiding; and vociferating that Beckley is seventy-nine
ahead, and that Nick Frim, the favourite of the field, has scored
fifty-one to his own cheek. The boys are boys of both villages: but they
are British boys--they adore prowess. The Fallow field boys wish that
Nick Frim would come and live on their side; the boys of Beckley rejoice
in possessing him. Nick is the wicketkeeper of the Beckley eleven;
long-limbed, wiry, keen of eye. His fault as a batsman is, that he will
be a slashing hitter. He is too sensible of the joys of a grand spanking
hit. A short life and a merry one, has hitherto been his motto.

But there were reasons for Nick's rare display of skill. That woman may
have the credit due to her (and, as there never was a contest of which
she did not sit at the springs, so is she the source of all superhuman
efforts exhibited by men), be it told that Polly Wheedle is on the
field; Polly, one of the upper housemaids of Beckley Court; Polly,
eagerly courted by Fred Linnington, humbly desired by Nick Frim--a
pert and blooming maiden--who, while her suitors combat hotly for an
undivided smile, improves her holiday by instilling similar unselfish
aspirations into the breasts of others.

Between his enjoyment of society and the melancholy it engendered in his
mind by reflecting on him the age and decrepitude of his hat, Mr. John
Raikes was doubtful of his happiness for some time. But as his taste
for happiness was sharp, he, with a great instinct amounting almost to
genius in its pursuit, resolved to extinguish his suspicion by acting
the perfectly happy man. To do this, it was necessary that he should
have listeners: Evan was not enough, and was besides unsympathetic; he
had not responded to Jack's cordial assurances of his friendship 'in
spite of anything,' uttered before they c