mamma. Tea or coffee, Dick? Coffee for Worcester, Grim, tea for me. Pass
that cream to Worcester, and you've forgotten the knife for the pie.
You're a credit to Sharpe's, Poulett; but remember that you've been
poaching for Biffen's footer captain. That's something, anyhow. Don't
grin, Poulett; it's bad form. Going? To Bourne's, eh? I can recommend you,
though it would be no recommendation to him. You can cut, too, Grim, and
clear at 9.30. See the door catches."

Grim scuttled after the renowned egg-poacher, and Worcester and Acton were
left alone. When Worcester was fed, and had pushed back his chair, Acton
broached the business to which the breakfast was the preliminary.

"Fact is, Worcester, I've been thinking how it is that Biffen's is the
slackest house in the place."

"Oh! it's got such a plucky reputation, you know. The kids weep when
they're put down for Biffen's. Give a dog a bad name--"

"But why the bad name?"

"Dunno! Perhaps it's Biffen. I think so, anyhow. At any rate, there's not
been a fellow from the house in the Lord's eleven or in the footer eleven,
and in the schools Biffen's crowd always close the rear. By the way, how
did you come among our rout?"

"I think mater knew Biffen; that's the explanation."

"Rather rough on you."

"Don't feel anything, really, Worcester."