The End of the Term "Look here, my hearties!" said Winona to the cricket team.

"Do you realize that Seaton _versus_ Binworth is on Wednesday week?
If you don't, it's time you did, and you'd better buck up! My opinion of you at this present moment is that you're a set of loafers! What are you doing lounging about here, when you ought to be practicing for all you're worth ?" The little group sitting on the grass under the lilac bushes smiled indulgently.
"Go ahead! Lay it on thick!" twittered Betty Carlisle.

"We knew when you hove into sight that we might expect some jaw-wag!" "It's all very fine to sermonize," yawned Maggie Allesley, "but you'd oblige me very much by going indoors and inspecting the thermometer in the hall." "One can't tear about in this heat!" added Irene Swinburne.
"What a set of dainty Sybarites you are! No one would ever win matches if they waited for the right kind of day to practice.

It's always too hot or too cold or too wet, or too something!" "Well, to-day it's decidedly too something! Don't roast us!" "But I shall roast you! D'you mean to let Binworth have a complete walk-over?
I'll tell you what--if you can't or won't play during the heat, will you all come back to school for an hour every evening, and practice then?
I'd square it up with Miss Bishop.

I'm sure she wouldn't mind." "There's sense in your remarks now," admitted Irene, sitting up.