"I shouldn't say so," said Jim, as Acton's stumps waltzed out of the ground for the fourth time. "He can't play slows for toffee."
"Rum affair about the footer cap," said Gus.
"Rather so. But I believe Phil Bourne is as straight as a die. I'm not so sure of Acton, though. I fancy there's something to be explained about the cap. By the way, Gus, are you going to loaf about this term as usual? Taylor's house side really does want bigger fellows than it's got."
"No!" said Gus. "I'm no good at cricket, nor croquet, nor any other game; nor do I really care a song about them. All the same, I'm not going to loaf."
"What is the idea?" said Jim, curiously.
"I'm going to have a shot for the history medal, and I mean to crawl up into the first three in the Fifth."
"And you'll do 'em, Toddy," said Jim, admiringly. "You're not quite such an ass as you once were."
"Well, I'll work evenly and regularly, and, perhaps, pull off one or other of them."
"I go, you know, at midsummer. Then I'm to cram somewhere for the Army. Taylor's been advising a treble dose of mathematics, and I think I'll oblige him this time."
"Taylor's not half a bad fellow," said Gus.