Tell England!

There must be something in this Rugby recreation, when roving bands of muscular masculinity move up and down the face of the earth seeking whom they may defeat; the latest invasion is by a bunch of burly Britishers who have slid over the bulge of the earth to take the ball away from New Zealand, if they can. Will they do it? Will it said that “They came, they scored, they conquered”?

No tongue can tell—not even the tongue of the ball—until the final numbers go up; but it is safe to predict, without fear of ostracism by “Fair Play,” “Old Rugbyite” and the armchair experts, that the side which wins will be the victor.