Tom Brown by his side, who has learned his trade by this time. Now is
your time, Tom. The blood of all the Browns is up, and the two rush in
together, and throw themselves on the ball, under the very feet of the
advancing column; the praepostor on his hands and knees arching his
back, and Tom all along on his face. Over them topple the leaders of
the rush, shooting over the back of the praepostor, but falling flat on
Tom, and knocking all the wind out of his small carcass. "Our ball,"
says the praepostor, rising with his prize, "but get up there, there's
a little fellow under you." They are hauled and roll off him, and Tom
is discovered a motionless body.

Old Brooke picks him up. "Stand back, give him air," he says; and
then, feeling his limbs, adds, "No bones broken. How do you feel,
young un?"

"Hah-hah!" gasps Tom, as his wind comes back, "pretty well, thank
you--all right."

"Who is he?" says Brooke.

"Oh, it's Brown, he's a new boy; I know him," says East, coming up.

"Well, he is a plucky youngster, and will make a player," says Brooke.

And five o'clock strikes. "No side"[53] is called, and the first day
of the School-house match is over.

[53] #No side#: a drawn game.

CHAPTER VI.

AFTER THE MATCH.

"----Some food we had."--_Shakespeare._

[Greek: "es potos hadus."]--_Theocr., Id._

CELEBRATING THE VICTORY.

As the boys scattered away from the ground, and East, leaning on Tom's
arm and limping along, was beginning to consider what luxury they
should go and buy for tea to celebrate that glorious victory, the two
Brookes came striding by. Old Brooke caught sight of East and stopped,
put his hand kindly on his shoulder, and said, "Bravo, youngster! you
played famously. Not much the matter, I hope?"

"No, nothing at all," said East; "only a little twist from that
charge."

"Well, mind and get all right for next Saturday;" and the leader
passed on, leaving East better for those few words than all the
opodeldoc[1] in England would have made him, and Tom ready to give one
of his ears for as much notice. Ah! light words of those whom we love
and honor, what a power ye are, and how carelessly wielded by those
who can use them! Surely for these things, also, God will ask an
account.

[1] #Opodeldoc#: a liniment.

"Tea's directly after locking-up, you see," said East, hobbling along
as fast as he could, "so you come along down to Sally Harrowell's;
that's our School-house