ment
found relief in speech.

"There's that little red-haired fellow got it again!" exclaimed the
aunt; "see how he runs!"

"Wait a bit!" cried the uncle; "that fellow there will catch him--no, he
hasn't--just look at him; there's smartness for you! Ah! he's down!"

"But another of the blues has got the ball!" cried the aunt, starting on
tiptoe. "Well, to be sure! five onto one! what a shame!"

And so they kept up a running commentary on the fortunes of the game,
much to George's amusement and that of those near us. Now and then the
uncle appeared suddenly to recollect himself, and would come out with a
grunt of disapproval. Once, for instance, when by a sort of common
impulse the whole of the players engaged in one of the scrimmages fell
to the ground, he was hardy enough to ejaculate--

"Disgraceful!"

"Hold your tongue, my love," broke in his wife; "you know very well
you'd like to be in it yourself if you were a boy. _I_ would!"

After that the uncle, whatever he thought, said nothing.

The sides appeared to be very evenly matched; so much so, that when
"half-time" was called neither had gained the least advantage.

Just as the sides were changing over, preparing to renew the contest, a
man came running up to where our party stood and called out,--

"Will anyone lend me a watch? Mine has stopped." This man was the
timekeeper for Cambridge, and indeed was no other than Clarke's friend,
one of the breakfast-party that morning.

"Here is one!" cried George, recognising him and unfastening me from his
ribbon-chain. The next moment I was hurrying towards the goals in my
borrower's hands.

I had now nothing for it but to attend closely to the game, for the old
gentleman and lady were too far away for me to be able to observe them
any further.

The ball was started again, and I had the satisfaction of seeing that
both Jim and Charlie were in new posts, which promised a better chance
of sport.

And so it happened.

Hardly had the first scrimmage been formed when Jim was seen slipping
out of it with the ball under his arm, making straight for the Sandhurst
goal. He was quickly stopped, however, and after a desperate encounter
the ball got free and rolled out of the crush towards where Charlie
stood.

He, not waiting to pick it up, went at it with a flying kick. Up flew
the ball, amid cheers and shouts, right over the heads of the players,
and had it not been for the promptitude of the Cambridge