Acton took not the smallest interest in the usual Easter Term games.
Footer was only played occasionally, but there was one blessing, the
fellows need not play the usual Thursday Old Game. As for cross-country
running, paper chases, _et hoc genus omne_, Acton refused to have
anything to do with them. "That sort," he said to Dick Worcester, "isn't
in the same street with footer."

"Why not try and lift the Public School Heavy at Aldershot?" suggested
Worcester.

"There's Hodgson in for it, Dick."

"A good man; but if you would only apply yourself seriously to the
business I'd back you. You're a good weight, and got a longer reach than
Hodgson."

"There's Bourne, too."

"Personally, I believe Phil is only pacing Hodgson to take him along
quicker."

"It's an awful fag, and I believe Eton have got the Heavy safe and sure
this year. A cousin of mine there says that their pet, Jarvis, would walk
right through the best man we've ever turned out."

"Oh, that's their usual brag!"

"Personally, I don't think so. They have got a young Bermondsey
professor--who is up to all the latest dodges--to coach. Our sergeant is
a bit old-fashioned--good, but old-fashioned. Does not do enough with his