THE LATEST FROM LORD'S.
Land Bill. "Well, anyhow, you carried your Bat." Crimes Bill. "Yes; but you'll find the Bowling awfully hot."
Scene—The Cricket Field. The Bell has rung for the Second Innings. Mr. Land Bill is just going to the wickets, and pauses to exchange a word or two with Mr. Crimes Bill, who has had so long an innings in the earlier part of the match.
Crimes Bill (taking it easy on his bat). Hello, L. B. my lad, you're going in?
L. B. (buttoning his gloves nervously). Ye—e—s. Captain's orders!
C. B. Well, I hope you'll win.
L. B. I'll do my best; can Cricketer do more?
C. B. No. But, by Jove! you'll find it hard to score.
L. B. What? Bowling killing?
C. B. Beastly! Talk of "shying"?
Crossland's a lamb to Healy.
L. B. Ah! that's trying.
But then they haven't got a Shaw, Sir, surely?
C. B. No; but, by Jingo! they have more—a Morley!
Straight on the middle stump. And then old Glad
Breaks awful, right and left, and shoots like mad.
I say they ought to be disqualified
For unfair bowling.
L. B. Humph! that game's been tried;
But Umpire doesn't always seem to see it.
C. B. Ah! Umpires are such funkers.
L. B. Well, so be it.
Must do my best. What sort of wickets?
C. B. Crumbling.
Must meet the ball with a straight bat; no fumbling,
Or out you go!
L. B. And how's the fielding?
C. B. Dicky!
'Tis there you'll have the pull that wickets sticky
Or cut up, through the influence of weather,
Can't neutralise. They're never all together.
Some run like hares, some throw in like a Krupp;
But what they fail in is in "backing up."
L. B. Thanks be! I see my chance then. If they're loose
In fielding I can slog 'em to the doose.
C. B. But don't take liberties, my lad. No jumps
In for a drive; they're always on the stumps.
And then their wicket-keeper's like a cat.
L. B. Well, anyhow you carried out your bat,
Despite the lot of them. Can "crack" do more?
C. B. (significantly). Yes!—I kept up my stumps, but could not score!
A "Not out, nothing" may be meritorious,
And very useful, but 'tis hardly glorious,
A stolid Scotton's worth his salt, at need;
But, after all, he's not a Grace or Read.
You'll have to hit, as well as guard your wicket,
If you'd be popular. Blocking is not Cricket!
L. B. Humph! no, not quite. My orders are to score
And bring the House down.
C. B. That will cause a roar
When you take back your bat to the Pavilion.
A Cricketer must smite to please the Million.
Routledge's Jubilee Guide to London, is good, not only for such a "high old time" as the Jubilee Week, but for the next three years or so until the streets are re-named and a few new thoroughfares opened up. The illustrations are excellent. There is only one objection to this Guide as a companion, and that is it is rather too large. No Guide to be useful should be bigger than the Handy-Volume Shakspeare size, originally started at 85, Fleet Street. Some of the French Guides, not the regiment, but the little books, Joanne's Series, are models in this respect.
Philips' Handy Volume Atlas is about the right size. "The World," it is often said, "is a small place;" but for all that, it does not go so easily in a tail-coat pocket, where Mr. Philips' Atlas can be conveniently carried. It is an invaluable companion for everyday newspaper reading. Happy Thought for Travellers, to whom this little volume is recommended, "Philips on his way through the World."
