They thought in cricket, and dreamed of nothing else.

Any question which arose resolved itself into a cricket match in their minds, and was mentally played out to bring it to a decision.
Their ordinary talk betrayed their mania, and even their work was solaced by the importation of cricket into its deepest problems.
Here, for instance, is an illustration of the kind of talk which might been have overheard one evening during the first part of the term in the study over Railsford's head.
Arthur was groaning over his Euclid.
"I'm clean bowled by this blessed proposition," said he.

"Here have I been slogging away at it all the evening and never got my bat properly under it yet.

You might give us a leg-up, Dig." "Bless you," said Dig, "I'm no good at that sort of yorker.

I'm bad enough stumped as it is by this Horace.