He aims and shies—instantaneously. He shatters the wicket.
"How's that?"
The appeal comes from every part of the ground.
And then, clearly and unmistakably, the umpire's fiat is spoken—
"Out!"
The Rev. Sep rises and rushes off, upsetting chairs, treading on toes, bent only upon being the first to tell Warde that Harrow has won.
"Io! Io! Io!"
FOOTNOTES:
[36] The blue of the Harrow colours.
[37] Lamper, i.e. Lamp-post.