represent his country first, and club afterwards, in a tussle which
proved disastrous to England; but it was admitted by all who witnessed
the match that Harry was one of the best men on the Field, and, in
company with his half-back, showed the best form and pluck--the
victorious Scotchmen notwithstanding. How the pair above mentioned
tackled and passed up, to say nothing of backing and nursing the ball, I
know full well, for I saw the game. Harry and his companion, in fact,
were again and again cheered for their magnificent dribbling, and when
the eventful game was over Harry was carried shoulder-high, in real
Scotch form, to the Black-and-White's pavilion.

The incident did not escape Jenny and her sister, who were standing on
the gravelled walk in front of the pavilion. Jenny was sympathetic when
she saw the handsome young Englishman cheered by the excited crowd, and
when the excitement culminated into carrying him shoulder-high to the
pavilion, a brilliant flash from her eye told the tale of regard. The
young lady, despite assertions to the contrary, must have at least
admired the young Englishman; and among the blithe and gentle faces who
swept their cambric handkerchiefs over their heads, none were more
demonstrative than the Black girls. They saw, with something akin to
pride, Harry let gently down at the pavilion door, followed by their
brother Jack, Jim Wallace, and Bill M'Clelland, all of whom had done
great work in the big match.

Harry did not lose sight of the handsome face which had haunted him all
the previous summer, notwithstanding his flirtation with the Italian
girls in Venice. Venice, beautiful Venice! It was in thy classic city,
close to the scene of the great Italian poet's labours and triumphs,
that poor Jack Vincent (who used to play left wing in the Swifts) was
found drowned, after attending a ball. Poor Jack, I think even now I can
see his handsome, but withal, comical face, when he used to dodge sundry
half-backs while playing for his club. Poor fellow! grave hints were
held out at the time that he had met with foul play, but nothing more
was ever heard about the matter, and Jack's friends never got any
satisfaction.

I am, however, going off the line with my brief story. Carts, in fact,
felt Jenny's face haunting him wherever he went, and on the earliest
opportunity came back to Scotland, asked the dear little girl to be his
wife, got the crusty old Colonel's consent, and the pair were al