Just shows how hard-up they must be for men.

How are you ?" he cried, as the schoolhouse tub went clumsily past, both rowers looking decidedly nervous under the critical eye of the captain of Parrett's.
Poor Game, who had been kept hard at it for nearly a mile, now fairly struck, and declared he couldn't keep it up any longer, and as he had really done a very good spell of work, Bloomfield consented to land at the Willows and bathe; after which he and Game would run back, and young Parson might scull home the tub.
Which delightful plan Master Parson by no means jumped at.

He had calculated on getting at least a quarter of an hour for his Caesar before morning chapel if they returned as they had come.

But now, if he was expected to lug that great heavy boat back by himself, not only would he not get that, but the chances were he would get locked out for chapel altogether, and it would be no excuse that he had had to act as galley-slave for Bloomfield or anybody else.
"Look alive!" cries Bloomfield from the bank, where he is already stripped for his header.

"And, by the way, on your way up go round to Chalker's and tell him only to stick up one set of cricket nets in our court; don't forget, now.