"Of course, it is not," said Hal. "Don't be a donkey, Jim. How often am I to tell you that this is not a regular game, but just a sort of knock up, you know?"
"In which you get all the knocking up," Helen said indignantly.
Hal laughed.
"Now, don't get into a temper, Helen. I don't see what girls want to play cricket for. It is not a girls' game. All they are good for is just to field, and that sort of thing."
At that Helen fairly choked with anger, Drusie opened her eyes very wide, and Jim lay down on the grass and laughed quietly to himself. Considering that both his sisters had been toiling on his behalf for the last half-hour, it certainly was very cool of Hal to make such a speech.
"I knew how it would be," Helen exclaimed passionately, as soon as she could find her voice; "and I warned you two others, only you would not listen. I knew perfectly well that Hal was not going to let us go in, and I call it downright unfair, and I for one am not going to field for him any more.—And you say," she added, turning indignantly to Hal, "that girls can't play cricket. Well, they can. Father says himself that Drusie plays awfully well for a girl, and I suppose he ought to know."
"For a girl," Hal said slightingly; "yes, that is just it."
"Please don't quarrel," Drusie said quickly. "You may stay in if you like, Hal, and I will bowl for you.—Jump up, Jim, and go and be wicket-keeper."