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Updated: September 14, 2025
I must take it out of some one for this house-match business, and you started it. Will tonight suit you, after supper?" "You'll get it hot if you try to touch me." "We'll see." "You'd funk taking me on in a scrap," said Walton. "Would I? As a matter of fact, a scrap would suit me just as well. Better. Are you ready now?" "Quite, thanks," sneered Walton.
'That's what I call really nicely expressed, said Marriott to the umpire. 'Yes, over the wicket. Marriott was a slow, 'House-match' sort of bowler. That is to say, in a House match he was quite likely to get wickets, but in a First Eleven match such an event was highly improbable.
On the other hand, in view of the fact that the final House-match had yet to be played, and that Merevale's was one of the two teams that were going to play it, it behoved him to keep himself at least moderately fit. The genial muffin and the cheery crumpet were still things to be avoided.
Two days had elapsed since Dunstable and Linton had looked in on Sheen for tea. It was a Saturday afternoon, and roll-call was just over. There was no first fifteen match, only a rather uninteresting house-match, Templar's versus Donaldson's, and existence in the school grounds showed signs of becoming tame. "What a beastly term the Easter term is," said Linton, yawning.
There were five vacancies in the House Eleven, but, according to precedent, these need not be filled up till after the last House-match, and possibly not even then. In a word, John might play for the House, and even distinguish himself, without receiving the coveted distinction. How sore John felt! About the end of May he noticed that something was amiss with Caesar.
The pavilion and the parts about the pavilion rails were always packed on the last day of a final house-match, and even in normal circumstances there was apt to be a little sparring between the juniors of the two houses which had been playing for the cup. In the present case, therefore, it was not surprising that Kay's fags took the defeat badly.
So pass the biscuits, and let us rejoice if we never rejoice again. The Easter term was nearing its end. Football, with the exception of the final House-match, which had still to come off, was over, and life was in consequence a trifle less exhilarating than it might have been. In some ways the last few weeks before the Easter holidays are quite pleasant.
"My good lunatic," said Clowes, "don't you think you've done almost enough for one term?" "Well, 'myes," replied O'Hara thoughtfully, "perhaps we have, I suppose." The term wore on. Donaldson's won the final house-match by a matter of twenty-six points. It was, as they had expected, one of the easiest games they had had to play in the competition.
Couldn't you get in something about the M.C.C. match? You could make cricket rhyme with wicket. Smith sat entranced with his ingenuity, but the other treated so material a suggestion with scorn. 'Well, said Smith, 'I must be off now. We've got a House-match on. Thanks awfully about the poem. Left to himself, Reynolds set himself seriously to the composing of an ode that should do him justice.
One house-match is just like another, and their "ploy" of that week happened to be rabbit-shooting with saloon-pistols. "I can't see a ball when it's coming, sir," said Beetle. "I've had my gig-lamps smashed at the Nets till I got excused. I wasn't any good even as a fag, then, sir." "Tuck is probably your form. Tuck and brewing. Why can't you three take any interest in the honor of your house?"
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