usual, I suppose?"

For the last five seasons that lamentable house had failed to put a
team into the field. "You'd better," said Henfrey, "we haven't
overmuch time as it is. That match with Paget's team has thrown us out
a lot. We ought to have started the house matches a week ago."

"Scratch!" said Clephane. "Don't you wish we would! My good chap,
we're going to get the cup."

"You needn't be a funny ass," said Henfrey in his complaining voice,
"we really are awfully pushed. As it is we shall have to settle the
opening rounds on the first innings. That's to say, we can only give
'em a day each; if they don't finish, the winner of the first innings
wins. You might as well scratch."

"I can't help your troubles. By rotten mismanagement you have got the
house-matches crowded up into the last ten days of term, and you come
and expect me to sell a fine side like Shields' to get you out of the
consequences of your reckless act. My word, Henfrey, you've sunk
pretty low. Nice young fellow Henfrey was at one time, but seems to
have got among bad companions. Quite changed now. Avoid him as much as
I can. Leave me, Henfrey, I would be alone."

"But you can't raise a team."

"Raise a team! Do you happen to know that half the house is
_biting_ itself with agony because we can't find room for all?
Shields gives stump-cricket _soirees_ in his study after prep.
One every time you hit the ball, two into the bowl of goldfish, and