"No, I'm not going to try now. It's a fool of a game, and all one-sided."
"Well, never mind; you'll have the right side sometimes. Let's start off again. I know you'll like it."
"No, I'm not going to play any more," grumbled Harry. "I wish the old ball was burst."
"You are in a temper," said Phra quietly. "I'm sorry I hurt you. Here, have a kick, Hal."
"Shan't; I'm too hot and tired."
"Rest a bit, then," said Phra. "I say, what queer people the English are to have invented a game like that! They must look so comic."
"What!" cried Harry indignantly. "Well, I do like that! Who looks comic, playing at shuttlecock and kicking it up in the air, and sending it back with the knees, elbows, or shoulders? I've seen some of the men knock the great shuttlecock up with their necks or chins. Now, that does look stupid."
Phra's eyelids contracted a little, and there was a frown upon his brow for a few moments.
It passed off then, and he brightened up, just when a few angry words would have caused an open rupture.
"Come and have a try, Hal, old chap," he said. "Sorry I hurt you," and he held out his hand.