That sort of thing definitely stamps a master.

"What do you want to see O'Hara about?" asked Clowes.

"He's got my little gold bat. I lent it him in the holidays."

A remark which needs a footnote. The bat referred to was made of gold,
and was about an inch long by an eighth broad. It had come into
existence some ten years previously, in the following manner. The
inter-house cricket cup at Wrykyn had originally been a rather
tarnished and unimpressive vessel, whose only merit consisted in the
fact that it was of silver. Ten years ago an Old Wrykinian, suddenly
reflecting that it would not be a bad idea to do something for the
school in a small way, hied him to the nearest jeweller's and purchased
another silver cup, vast withal and cunningly decorated with filigree
work, and standing on a massive ebony plinth, round which were little
silver lozenges just big enough to hold the name of the winning house
and the year of grace. This he presented with his blessing to be
competed for by the dozen houses that made up the school of Wrykyn, and
it was formally established as the house cricket cup. The question now
arose: what was to be done with the other cup? The School House, who
happened to be the holders at the time, suggested disinterestedly that
it should become the property of the house which had won it last. "Not
so," replied the Field Sports Committee, "but far otherwise. We will
have it melted down in a fiery furnace, and thereafter fashioned into
eleven little silver bats. And these little silver bats shall be the
guerdon of the eleven members of the winning team, to have and to hold
for the space of one year, unless, by winning the cup twice in
succession, they gain the right of keeping the bat for yet another
year. How is that, umpire?" And the authorities replied, "O men of