eir own den.

After all, it was not so bad. It only meant letting the fire out and
putting one chair in the fender, and shoving the other end of the table
(which had been doubled in length by the addition of the table out of a
neighbouring room, that was within four inches of the same height) close
up against the door, which it was just possible to shut. As, however,
the door opened outwards, it was necessary for the gentleman occupying
the foot of the table to sit out in the passage, much to the
inconvenience of the casual passers-by.

To a shy man like Mr Rollitt, it was a difficult position to find
himself the honoured guest of nine young gentlemen like these.

"Thank'ee kindly, young masters," said he, when Ashby relieved him of
his hat and Fisher minor of his bag, and Percy undermined him with a
chair, and Cottle handed him the _Boy's Own Paper_, and Cash came in
with a hassock, and D'Arcy put a railway rug over his knees.

Wally, whose ideas of hospitality were of the old school, deemed it
expedient, while tea was being served, to engage his guest on the
subject of the weather.

"Rather finer the last few days than it was the other week when it
rained?" said he. "Rollitt's having fine weather for his trip."

This was an artful way of introducing the topic of the hour.

"Thank you kindly, yes. He's bound to be somewheres, is my Alf,"
replied Mr Rollitt.

"It's all right; we're backing him up. He made a ripping run for the
School against Rendlesham. He bashed the ball through the scrimmage,
you know, and then nipped it up right under their noses and ran it
through. They couldn't collar him, he bowled 'em over right and left,
and danced on 'em, and landed the touch clean behind the post."

"He meant no harm, young gents, didn't my Alf. He ain't often wiolent,
he ain't. There's no offence, I hope?" said the father, quite
overwhelmed by this alarming recital.

"No; it was a jolly good run. You ought to have seen it; I and my lot
were up the oak, you know; we could have tucked you in. My young
brother Percy and his Modern cads--k-i-d-s (I never can pronounce it)--
were on the steps."

"Oh," said the poor guest, feeling he ought to reciprocate the civility
of his entertainers. "Steps is nice things to be on when you ain't got
nowheres else."

"Tea!" shouted Fisher minor, who with Ashby had been busily charging the
table.

It was now the turn of the hosts to be shy. At this late period of the