rackets and balls as big as melons. And actually here one comes! A great white india-rubber thing, bouncing heavily over the hedge there. It's out of bounds, and they are sure to come to look for it soon, disturbing the solitude. Yes, I thought so. For here is our young friend, in the white flannels and the scarlet tie. What a jump! He's down the bank like a streak of lightning! But an instant too late. For the big white ball has eluded him, and off he goes, by the other path, very much on the wrong scent.
And now, what's this? Why, I do believe it's the young man's playfellows coming to help him find the ball. They must have chosen the easy way through the shrubbery. Here they are, anyway, tripping into the garden, happily, prettily, all in white, with their short white skirts
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