"Oh, it's a horribly hot, stupid game," said Harry.
"Stupid?" cried the doctor warmly.
"Yes; it's all one or the other. If Phra gets the ball, one does nothing but run after him; and if I get the ball, he has to run after me. And oh! wasn't it hot!"
"When did you play?" said the doctor.
"Oh, in the afternoon."
"You are quite right, my lad," said the doctor drily. "A game at football between two boys with the thermometer standing at over a hundred in the shade, must be a very stupid game indeed."
"Did you ever play it?" said Harry. "I think I've heard you say you did."
"Did I ever play it?" said the doctor scornfully. "I should think I did, and with a couple of good teams. But the thermometer was not at a hundred in the shade, but thirty-five or forty."
"I wish you would play with us next time, Doctor," said Harry eagerly.
"Thank you, my lad, but I would rather be excused."