every one admitted that they were a
good-looking and well-set-up eleven; they brought half a dozen other
fellows with them, to help to cheer their victory and to keep their
score, and a master to be umpire. The Seminary eleven were in all
colours and such dress as commended itself to their taste. Robertson and
Molyneux and one or two others in full flannels, but Speug in a grey
shirt and a pair of tight tweed trousers of preposterous pattern, which
were greatly admired by his father's grooms--and, for that matter, by
the whole school; and although Jock Howieson had been persuaded into
flannel bags, as we called them then, he stuck to a red shirt of
outrageous appearance, which was enough to frighten any bowler. Jack
Moncrieffe, the Muirtown cricket crack and bowler of the All Scotland,
was umpire for the Seminary, and the very sight of him taught the first
lesson of respect to the "Bumbees"; and when they learned that Jim
Fleming, the other Muirtown crack, had been coaching the Seminary all
the summer, they began to feel that it might be a real match, not merely
a few lessons in the manly game of cricket given to encourage a common
school, don't you know.

There was a representative turn-out of Muirtown men, together with a
goodly sprinkling of Muirtown mothers and sisters. Bulldog took up his
position early, just in front of the tent, and never moved till the
match was over; nor did he speak, save once; but the Seminary knew that
he was thinking plenty, and that the master of mathematics had his eye
upon them. Some distance off, the Count--that faithful friend of his
Seminary "dogs"--promenaded up and down a beat of some dozen yards, and
spent the time in one long excitement, cheering with weird foreign
accent when a good hit was made, swearing in French when anything went
wrong, bewailing almost unto tears the loss of a Seminary wicket, and
hurrying to shake hands with every one of his eleven, whether he had
done well or ill, when he came in from the wicket. Mr. McGuffie moved
through the crowd from time to time, and finally succeeded in making a
bet on the most advantageous terms with that eminent dignitary, the Earl
of Kilspindie's coachman, who was so contemptuous of the Seminary from
the Castle point of view that he took the odds of five to one in
sovereigns that they would be beaten. And on the outskirts of the crowd,
half ashamed to be there and doubtful of his reception, hovered Bailie
MacConachie.

The Semi