They all thought it was high time.
But everybody we met I was introduced to as Sarah.
"Awfully sorry," said Langrish, after the fourth or fifth offence.
"I've such a bad memory for names .-- Well kicked, sir." This exclamation was addressed, not to me, but to a senior who had just appeared on the scene, and was kicking about the practice football with a friend prior to a match which was evidently due.
It was a splendid kick, and the author of it was a splendid fellow-- brawny of limb and light of foot, with fair hair and clear blue eyes--as one might picture one of the Norsemen of the story-books.

You could see by the way he moved, and the spirit he put even into this practice kicking, that he was a sportsman every inch of him; and his good-natured laugh, as he exchanged greetings with this and that arriving friend, proclaimed him, even before you heard him speak, as good a gentleman as he was an athlete.
"Redwood's in form to-day," said some one.

"We'd better stop and see the play." "Is that Redwood, the captain ?" inquired I, in an awestruck way, of Warminster.
"Rather," was the reply, in a tone of pride which convinced me that Low Heath was proud of its chief, even though he had the misfortune to be a day boy.
Just then Redwood turned and waved his hand to somebody near us.
"Look out; he wants you," said Langrish.
"Me ?" said I, flabbergasted.
"Don't you see him beckoning?
Look alive, or you'll catch it." I could hardly believe it; and yet everybody near looked round at me in apparent wonder at my delay.
Perhaps Redwood had heard something about me from Tempest and wanted to-- "Go on," said Trimble, giving me a shove.

"If he wants to stick you in the Fifteen, tell him it's not good enough." "Look sharp," called the others, encouragingly, as I started to obey the summons.
By this time Redwood was strolling our way.

Mahomet, thought I, is coming to the mountain.