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Updated: June 19, 2025
Or if you were to get a can of paraffin, and syringe them, it would make the fly sit up. But I don't know as how it's worth the trouble. Nater will have its way, and, if the fly wants the honion, who are we that we should say it nay? I think, TOBY, M.P., if I was you, I'd let things take their swing. It's a terrible thing to go a interfering with Nater." But we didn't follow ARPACHSHAD'S advice.
But the School had set its heart on the innings victory, and the team had the moral strength derived from the concentrated determination of six hundred boys. What had the Masters to oppose this? Nothing save Radley and a handful of tarnished Blues. It is stated that the third innings of the day opened like this: Honion started on a longer run than usual, as if to terrify this Radley fellow.
In the meantime Lancaster had buttonholed Doe. "You used to be a great cricketer, usedn't you?" "When I was a boy, Honion," said Doe. "And you've slacked abominably." "Thou sayest so, Honion." "Well, my son, the last place in the Team is vacant. You should be too good for the Second. Practise like fury, and the situation's yours."
I ignored him and devoted my attention to watching Radley, as he took his place at the net, where Honion was bowling. It was clear that he did not underestimate Honion's express deliveries, for he rolled up his sleeve, displaying a massive forearm that alarmed us seriously; re-arranged his rubber bat-handle; placed his bat firmly in the block; and faced Honion.
It was a question of "Honion" v. Radley. The enthusiasm swelled and burst the boundaries of the school. Local papers took up the subject. London papers, in small-print paragraphs, copied them.
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