Whereupon the company--half of them in a very elementary stage of dressing, and the other half in no stage at all-- resolved itself into a meeting on the spot, and fixed that day week for a formal trial of prowess between the two classes.

Three events were to be contested--a half-mile race, a hundred yards, and a duck hunt--and, of course, the winner of two out of the three would carry the day.
Then, in great excitement, we finished our toilets and hurried back to the school, where, naturally, the news of the coming contest spread like wildfire and caused a great commotion.

The school divided itself forthwith into two factions, calling themselves the "fivers" and "sixers." The selection of representatives to compete in the races was a matter of almost as much excitement as the races themselves, and I need hardly say it was a proud day for me when I was informed I was to act in the capacity of "hunter" for the fifth in the duck hunt.

I accepted the honour with mingled pride and misgivings, and spent a busy week practising for my arduous duties.
Well, the eventful day came at last, and nearly the whole school mustered at Cramp Corner to see the sport.

For the half-mile race, which was to come off first, there were only two fellows competing.