And so these young cocks crowed, for the day was regularly their own; while Bill Jenkins sneaked off, with his feathers draggling down about his sides, and with bitterness in his heart, for he knew that another thrashing was in waiting for him at home, for getting his clothes wet, and his face bruised.
And now that the victors had the field entirely to themselves, and the excitement was over, they began to find that they were all very stiff and sore; and upon looking at one another, they found that the victory had been dearly bought Fred had, after all, been the greatest hero, and, as a matter of course, he had come in for the greatest amount of damage: his clothes were soaked with water; his shirt stained with blood; his collar torn off; but; as to personal damage, he had escaped with a cut mouth and bleeding knuckles, for he had found that Bill Jenkins possessed a terribly thick head. Harry’s clothes were terribly dragged about, and his knuckles were in nearly as bad a state as Fred’s, while his face was in such a condition that Philip said he might pass for somebody else. Poor boy, he was sadly “punished,” as sporting people call it, while more matter-of-fact folks would say, “knocked about:” the general appearance of his face was such that it might have been supposed that he had been the combatant who was immersed in the water, and that, having stayed in too long, his face had swelled and grown puffy. Philip had a nasty cut on the ear, and had had his nose flattened, but it had regained its proper position, though not without deluging him with blood. Altogether, the boys unmistakeably bore the appearances of having been in a sharp engagement; and, as the sailors say, they “hove to” for the purpose of repairing damages.
The first proceeding was to wring all the water out of Fred’s clothes, and then, when he had put on his dry jacket and cap,—which he had flung off on commencing the conflict,—he did not look so very, very bad. Philip, too, was made pretty decent, when he had taken his stained collar off, and buttoned his waistcoat up with the collar reversed, so that it covered his shirt. But Harry was the worst, for he looked dreadful; and no amount of bathing would make him decent. To begin with, his cap would not go on so as to cover his bruised forehead; his eyes were reduced to narrow slits, so that he could scarcely see; while his mouth was drawn down all on one side.
“Only look what an old gutta-percha head,” said Philip; “don’t he seem as if some one had been squeezing him out of shape?” And then all three burst out laughing, till Harry begged of them not to make him laugh.
“Oh, don’t, Phil; it does hurt so.”
“I say,” said Fred, “however are we to go in to tea?”
“I don’t know,” said Philip; “I don’t know what they will say to us! But we had better go home at once. What a set of guys we look! Let’s go along by the river side, and get over the palings into the fields, and then, perhaps, we can slip in without being seen.”
“Come along then,” said Harry, “for I do feel so stupid, and I can’t see a bit.”
“Oh! let’s make haste,” said Fred, “for wet clothes are not at all comfortable.”
It was getting on fast for tea-time, so they hurried along, and having, by means of jumping a couple of ditches, reached the palings which skirted Mr Inglis’s property, they helped Harry over, and crept along close to the trees. It had been no joke for Harry to leap the ditches, for he had to do it standing, but he managed to get pretty well over, and then blundered along behind his brother and cousin.