But the old goal posts were broken, and the ball was flabby and nearly worn-out.
“The new goals and ball are to arrive from London to-day.”
But they had not got flannels or proper clothes to play in.
“They must get flannels. Every boy must have flannels, and meanwhile they must wear the oldest shirts and trousers they had.”
Shirts and trousers! Then they weren’t even to be allowed to wear coats and waistcoats this chilly weather! Hadn’t they better wait till next week, till they could ask leave of their parents, and get their flannels and practise a bit?
“No. Between now and Saturday they would have two clear days to practise. On Saturday, the Sixth would play the School at three o’clock.”
And Mr Frampton, there being nothing more to say on this subject, went off to see what his next pleasant little surprise should be. Bolsover, meanwhile, snarled over the matter in ill-tempered conclaves in the play-ground.
“It’s simple humbug,” said Farfield, one of the Sixth. “I defy him to make me play if I don’t choose.”
“I shall stand with my hands in my pockets, and not move an inch,” said another.
“I mean to sit down on the grass and have a nap,” said a third.