The next type is the partial slacker. He differs from the absolute
slacker in that at rare intervals he actually turns up, changed withal
into the garb of the game, and thirsting for the fray. At this point
begins the time of trouble for the Game-Captain. To begin with, he is
forced by stress of ignorance to ask the newcomer his name. This is,
of course, an insult of the worst kind. "A being who does not know my
name," argues the partial slacker, "must be something not far from a
criminal lunatic." The name is, however, extracted, and the partial
slacker strides to the arena. Now arises insult No. 2. He is wearing
his cap. A hint as to the advisability of removing this piece de
resistance not being taken, he is ordered to assume a capless state,
and by these means a coolness springs up between him and the G. C. Of
this the Game-Captain is made aware when the game commences. The
partial slacker, scorning to insert his head in the scrum, assumes a
commanding position outside and from this point criticises the
Game-Captain's decisions with severity and pith. The last end of the
partial slacker is generally a sad one. Stung by some pungent
home-thrust, the Game-Captain is fain to try chastisement, and by
these means silences the enemy's battery.

Sometimes the classes overlap. As for instance, a keen and regular
player may, by some more than usually gross bit of bungling on the
part of the G.-C., be moved to a fervour and eloquence worthy of
Juvenal. Or, again, even the absolute slacker may for a time emulate
the keen player, provided an opponent plant a shrewd kick on a tender
spot. But, broadly speaking, there are only three classes.