Willow the king

WILLOW THE KING
The Story of a Cricket Match
BY J. C. SNAITH AUTHOR OF “FIERCEHEART, THE SOLDIER,” “MISTRESS DOROTHY MARVIN,” ETC., ETC.
ILLUSTRATED BY LUCIEN DAVIS, R.I.
LONDON WARD, LOCK AND CO. LIMITED NEW YORK AND MELBOURNE
TO MY COLLEAGUES OF THE NOTTINGHAM FOREST AMATEUR CRICKET CLUB
IT was the eve of Little Clumpton versus Hickory. To those who are unfamiliar with these haunts of ancient peace this may seem a chronicle of the infinitely little. The Utopians, however, dwelling there remote, were quite aware that Waterloo, nay, even the Battle of Omdurman, was a picnic in comparison with Little Clumpton versus Hickory. Therefore let the nations heed.
Half our team were sitting in my billiard-room discussing the prospects of the morrow. Opinion really was unanimous for once: Little Clumpton must not lose.
“Lose!” said the Optimist grandly, “is it England, or is it Hickory?”
“Only Hickory,” said the Pessimist, “and the Trenthams.”
“It can be W. G. and Jackson, if they like to bring ’em,” said the Optimist; “and then they’ll finish sick. They’ll simply flop before Charlie’s ribsters, and Billy’s slows.”
“H’m!” said the Pessimist.