And all the time three little bundles lay
discreetly on the sward, proclaiming:
"No. We are what matters. Without us shall no enterprise begin.
To us shall all flesh turn in the end."
"A try! A try!" yelled Freddy, snatching up George's bundle and
placing it beside an imaginary goal-post.
"Socker rules," George retorted, scattering Freddy's bundle
with a kick.
"Goal!"
"Goal!"
"Pass!"
"Take care my watch!" cried Mr. Beebe.
Clothes flew in all directions.
"Take care my hat! No, that's enough, Freddy. Dress now. No, I
say!"
But the two young men were delirious. Away they twinkled into the
trees, Freddy with a clerical waistcoat under his arm, George
with a wide-awake hat on his dripping hair.
"That'll do!" shouted Mr. Beebe, remembering that after all he
was in his own parish. Then his voice changed as if every
pine-tree was a Rural Dean. "Hi! Steady on! I see people coming
you fellows!"
Yells, and widening circles over the dappled earth.
"Hi! hi! LADIES!"
Neither George nor Freddy was truly refined.
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