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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Mr. Isaacs"

At last it
happened that I was chasing the ball back towards our goal, from one of
his hits, and he was pursuing me. I had the advantage of a long start,
and before he could reach me I got in a heavy "backhander" that sent the
ball far away to one side, where, as good luck would have it,
Westonhaugh was waiting. Quick as thought he carried it along, and in
another minute we had scored a goal, amidst enthusiastic shouts from the
spectators, who had been kept long in suspense by the protracted game.
This time it was to our side that the young girl came, riding up to her
brother to congratulate him on his success. I thought she had less
colour as she came nearer, and though she smiled sweetly as she said,
"It was splendidly played, John," there was not so much enthusiasm in
her voice as the said John, who had really won the game with masterly
neatness, might have expected. Then she sat quietly looking over the
ground, while we dismounted from our ponies, breathless, and foaming,
and lathery, from the hard-fought battle. The grooms ran up with
blankets and handfuls of grass to give the poor beasts a rub, and
covering them carefully after removing the saddles, led them away.
The sun leaves Annandale early, and I put on a coat and lit a cigarette,
while the saice saddled our second mounts.


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