Why, there's been two collar-bones broken this half, and a dozen
fellows lamed. And last year a fellow had his leg broken."
Tom listened with the profoundest respect to this chapter of accidents,
and followed East across the level ground till they came to a sort of
gigantic gallows of two poles, eighteen feet high, fixed upright in the
ground some fourteen feet apart, with a cross-bar running from one to
the other at the height of ten feet or thereabouts.
"This is one of the goals," said East, "and you see the other, across
there, right opposite, under the Doctor's wall. Well, the match is for
the best of three goals; whichever side kicks two goals wins: and it
won't do, you see, just to kick the ball through these posts--it must go
over the cross-bar; any height'll do, so long as it's between the posts.
You'll have to stay in goal to touch the ball when it rolls behind the
posts, because if the other side touch it they have a try at goal. Then
we fellows in quarters, we play just about in front of goal here, and
have to turn the ball and kick it back before the big fellows on the
other side can follow it up. And in front of us all the big fellows
play, and that's where the scrummages are mostly."
Tom's respect increased as he struggled to make out his friend's
technicalities, and the other set to work to explain the mysteries
of "off your side," "drop-kicks," "punts," "places," and the other
intricacies of the great science of football.
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