The Seed of Empire by Fred M. White

The afternoon of Friday was fairly fine, with a keen wind blowing across the ground that gave no advantages to either side. All round the ropes soldiers from a dozen regiments were gathered, including a large number of Indian troops, who were just as keen as the rest of the spectators, and by no means the least critical amongst them, for most of them had played the game at home. It was quite evident from the first that the sympathy of the crowd was on the side of the Musketeers, who were held to have done a very sporting thing in challenging their opponents, who had carried everything before them up to now. But when the two sides came to a line up, and Major Brawnwood stepped out into the field to kick off for his side, a keen-faced London territorial whistled softly as he ran his eye over the Musketeer forwards, and turned eagerly to a sporting comrade.

"Look 'ere, Bill," he said, "you're a bit of a sportsman in your way, an' you're generally keen on a gamble. I think I'd like to back these 'ere Musketeers. They're a scratch lot, an' I'll want a shade of odds. You lay me half a crown to a shilln', an' as a favour I'll tike yer."