“Yes, sir,” answered Tom, looking up roguishly, “I see; only the question remains whether I should have got most good by understanding Greek particles or cricket thoroughly. I'm such a thick, I never should have had time for both.”
“I see you are an incorrigible,” said the master, with a chuckle; “but I refute you by an example. Arthur there has taken in Greek and cricket too.”
“Yes, but no thanks to him; Greek came natural to him. Why, when he first came I remember he used to read Herodotus for pleasure as I did Don Quixote, and couldn't have made a false concord if he'd tried ever so hard; and then I looked after his cricket.”
“Out! Bailey has given him out. Do you see, Tom?” cries Arthur. “How foolish of them to run so hard.”
“Well, it can't be helped; he has played very well. Whose turn is it to go in?”
“I don't know; they've got your list in the tent.”
“Let's go and see,” said Tom, rising; but at this moment Jack Raggles and two or three more came running to the island moat.
“O Brown, mayn't I go in next?” shouts the Swiper.
“Whose name is next on the list?” says the captain.
“Winter's, and then Arthur's,” answers the boy who carries it; “but there are only twenty-six runs to get, and no time to lose. I heard Mr. Aislabie say that the stumps must be drawn at a quarter past eight exactly.”