These boys were slovenly players, and were made unhappy by Skepsey's fussy instructions to them in smartness.

They had a stupid way of feeding the stick, and they ran sprawling; it concerned Great Britain for them to learn how to use their legs.

It was pitiful for the country to see how lumpish her younger children were.

Dartrey knew his little man and laughed, after warning him that his English would want many lessons before they stomached the mixture of discipline and pleasure.

So it appeared: the pride of the boys in themselves, their confidence, enjoyment of the game, were all gone; and all were speedily out but Skepsey; who ran for the rounder, with his coat off, sharp as a porpoise, and would have got it, he had it in his grasp, when, at the jump, just over the line of the goal, a clever fling, if ever was, caught him a crack on that part of the human frame where sound is best achieved.