The ball was a disused pot-hat of the baronet's, and the combatants were the two owners of the study _versus_ their cronies and fellow "Shell-fish"-- Tilbury, of the second eleven, and Dimsdale, the gossip.

There had been some very fine play on both sides, and a maul in goal at the towel-horse end, in which the dog had participated, and been for a considerable period mistaken for the ball.
_Hinc illae lacrymae_.
At the moment when Ainger looked in, Herapath's side had scored 35 goals against their adversaries' 29.

The rules were strict Rugby, and nothing was wanted to complete the sport but an umpire.

The captain arrived in the nick of time.
"Offside, Dim!--wasn't he, Ainger?
That's a place-kick for us! Hang the dog! Get out, Smiley; go and keep goal.

See fair play, won't you, Ainger ?" To this impudent request Ainger replied by impounding the ball.