United States or Martinique ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Amory's firmly convinced that Biffen's was the most glorious house that had ever existed, and that it would do thanks to Acton, Worcester, and the dervishes great things when the cricket housers came round. "Grimmy," said Wilson, "you'll have to try to get into the team this year. You would last, if your batting hadn't been so rotten." "All right, old man; don't rub that in too often."
This day was pretty generally known amongst Biffen's fags. When he had finished he read it to Wilson, who unbent from his antagonistic attitude towards poetry when he heard the subject of the verse. "After all, Grimmy, it doesn't sound more rotten than Virgil, and it is rather swagger to say that Biffen's is to Hilda what Samnos was to Juno. It's a jolly lot more, though."
He knew only too well that his beloved chums would not hear of an afternoon's work, and would head him off either to footer or a run round the Bender. Therefore, immediately after dinner, he had made an unostentatious exit, and reached the laboratory in safety. "Where is Grimmy?" said Sharpe. "Dunno," said Wilson. "Did he know of our six-a-side against Merishall's lot?" "Rather!
He had been through a good deal since his last chance to wash and clean up, and he was grimmy and dirty. He discovered, too, that he was ravenously hungry. Until that moment, he had been too active, too busy with brain and body, to notice his hunger. However, there was nothing to be done for that now.
"We'll let the six-a-side slide for this afternoon, and we'll help Grimmy with his salt," suggested the egg-poacher, brilliantly; and any amount of hidden meaning was in the word "help." "We will! we will!" cried the rest, spotting Poulett's idea instanter, with enthusiastic joy; and despite Grim's frenzied declamation and eloquence they all "helped."
"You put in a lot of extra practice at one of those bottom nets, Grimmy, and you'll find Worcester'll shove you in first choice, almost, this go." "Serene. Shall we try to raise a bottle of cherries now," said Grim, lazily, lounging from net to net. "It's heaps too soon to think of housers yet." "You conceited ass, Grimmy! Not for you. Your batting is too awful." "Don't worry now.
In fact, the train, labouring up the heavy gradient, did barely more than crawl through the snow and wind, and the slow beat of the engine told how hard it was even to do that. Acton added thoughtfully, "We've quite four miles yet to the summit, and there's a chance we mayn't " "Mayn't what, Acton, please?" said Grim, putting down his magazine. "Get there, Grimmy." "To the top?
Lord, Grimmy, was it for this you chucked cricket and your chance of the house eleven?" Wilson exploded again, uproariously. "I'll tell Rogers and Jack Bourne. You a poet!" "Why shouldn't I be, you silly cuckoo?" "Why, you haven't got the cut of a poet, for one thing, and for another, I believe, next to your mother, the thing you like best in the world is a good dinner."
"His little game's up now, and we can rag him for an age over this." "Let's try his mount first, Grimmy." Rogers wheeled out the machine and, after hopping twenty yards, "found" the saddle.
"Rather," said they all. "One more feather in Biffen's cap.". "But, Grimmy," said Rogers, "I don't last, you know." "Ah!" said the chairman, brilliantly, "we'll only have one two-minutes' round each draw. It will go by points. You're safe as a house, my pet, really." "Who'll be judge about points? I propose you, Grim," said Rogers, with intent.
Word Of The Day