"INNINGS DECLARED CLOSED."
SCENE—Grounds of the St. Stephen's C.C. SALISBURY (Captain) and BALFOUR (Champion Bat) at Wickets. The latter has just despatched the ball to the boundary for "another four," eliciting "applause all round the ring," as the (Cricket) saying is.
Captain. Well hit, my dear ARTHUR!
Champion Bat (modestly). Ah! bit of a fluke.
Captain. Come, come! Cricket swagger may merit rebuke,
But take your fair kudos; don't run yourself down.
Wicket-Keeper (aside). Bah! that's his old trick. At the ball he will frown,
And fumble the bat as though funk, or don't care,
Filled his soul; but when slogging's the game he's all there.
Mere posing, not playing the game,—yet he scores!
I wonder how WILL likes the ring's frantic roars
At their flashy young favourite?
Bowler (aside). Humph! he lays on!
I did hope, with that ball, that his wicket was gone.
'Twas a curly one, one of my regular old sort.
Good batting and bowling, that's true Cricket sport,
As CLARKE, Grand Old Trundler, declared was the case
When he bowled and PILCH batted.
Champion Bat (aside). Just twig HARCOURT's face!
Thought he'd had me ere now. Can't you hear his "How's that?"—
If I gave him a chance?
Captain. He's a fine slogging bat,
But behind the sticks—humph! Well, let's see, lad, your score
Wants but eight of the "century." Ninety-two more
Towards your "average," ARTHUR! The Cricketer's Bard
Will be rhyming your doings!
Champion Bat. An awful "reward"!
But shall we play on?
Captain (thoughtfully). Well, now, what do you think?
From fighting it out to the end I don't shrink,
But time's running short; we stand well for a win:
They say that their eager desire's to go in.
Perhaps if they got their desire they'd be posed.
Suppose we declare that our innings is closed?
[Left considering it.