Parkhurst Boys | Page 2

to the tent, and promptly divested ourselves of our outer
garments, turned up the sleeves of our jerseys, and tied an extra knot in
our bootlaces. As we emerged, the Craven men were making their
appearance on the ground in battle array. I felt so nervous myself that I
could not, for the life of me, imagine how some of them could look so
unconcerned, whistling, and actually playing leapfrog to keep
themselves warm!
An officer in the Crimean War once described his sensation in some of
the battles there as precisely similar to those he had experienced when a
boy on the football field at Rugby. I can appreciate the comparison, for
one. Certainly never soldier went into action with a more solemn
do-or-die feeling than that with which I took my place on the field that
afternoon.
"They've won the choice of sides," said somebody, "and are going to
play with the wind."
"Take your places, Parkhurst!" shouted our captain.
The ball lies in the centre of the ground, and Wright stands ten yards or

so behind it, ready for the kick-off. Of our fifteen the ten forwards are
extended in a line with the ball across the field, ready to charge after it
the moment it goes flying. The two best runners of our team are
stationed quarter-back, where they can skirmish on the outskirts of the
scrimmage. I am posted a little in rear of them at half-back--an unusual
post for so young a player, but one which was accorded to me by virtue
of my light weight and not inconsiderable running powers. Behind me
are the two backs, on whom, when all else fails, the issue of the conflict
depends. The Craven players are similarly disposed, and waiting
impatiently for our captain's kick.
"Are you ready?" he shouts.
Silence gives consent.
He gives a quick glance round at us, then springs forward, and in an
instant the ball is soaring high in the direction of the Cravens' goal
amid the shouts of onlooking friend and foe.
Our forwards were after it like lightning, but not before a Craven back
had got hold of it and run some distance in the direction of our goal. He
did not wait to be attacked, but by a clever drop-kick, a knack peculiar
to all good backs, sent it spinning right over the forwards' heads into
the hands of one of our quarter-backs. He, tucking it under his arm and
crushing his cap on to his head, started to run. Going slowly at first, he
steered straight for the forwards of the enemy till within a pace or two
of them, when he doubled suddenly, and amid the shouts of our
partisans slipped past them and was seen heading straight for the
Craven goal. But although he had escaped their forwards, he had yet
their rearguard to escape, which was far harder work, for was not one
of that rearguard the celebrated Slider himself, who by his prowess had
last year carried defeat to our school; and the other, was it not the
stalwart Naylor, who only a month ago had played gloriously for his
county against Gravelshire?
Yet our man was not to be daunted by the prestige of these
distinguished adversaries, but held on his way pluckily, and without a
swerve. It was a sight to see those two cunningly lay wait for him, like

two spiders for a fly. There was nothing for it but to plunge headlong
into their web in a desperate effort to break through. Alas! brave man!
Naylor has him in his clutches, the Craven forwards come like a deluge
on the spot, our forwards pour over the Craven, and in an instant our
hero and the ball have vanished from sight under a heap of writhing
humanity.
"Down!" cries a half-choked voice, from the bottom of the heap. It was
rather an unnecessary observation, as it happens, but it served as a
signal to both parties to rise to their feet and prepare for a "scrimmage."
Now, if truth must be told, our school always had the reputation of
being second to none in "going through a scrimmage," so while the
players are scrambling to their feet, and waiting for the ball to be
"grounded," I will explain what our method of doing the thing was.
It was nothing more nor less than a carrying out of the principle of the
wedge. The ball formed the apex; the fellows got up close to it, so as
never to let it out of reach of their four feet. Behind these two came
three with locked arms, and behind the three, four. The men in the
middle pushed straight ahead, and those at the sides inwards towards
the ball, while the two or three remaining