The bowling starts well. Looking at the pitch, in nautical parlance, “broadside on,” one is able to see what a good length the left hander keeps: shoots unpleasantly, too, at times, so that you have to be wide awake to get down on them.
These two are bad men to bowl at, though; they “keep their hair on,” watching the ball keenly, and contenting themselves at first with a snick or two through the slips, or a “pull” of moderate dimensions. But the left hander is beginning to lose his length a little, and pitches them up; so the batsmen may get a chance of “opening their shoulders.”
Lieutenant Benn faces him for a fresh over. Ah! there is one well pitched up: he won’t let that off! Not he: a lovely off-drive, going at a tremendous pace, all along the ground, just outside mid-off, who makes a wild grab, but fails to reach it. Away it goes, the man behind the bowler tearing after it, without the remotest chance of catching it, until the little dark speck disappears from view over the gentle slope on the northern boundary. Really now, anyone, “W. G.” or “C. B.” included, might be proud of that drive: and there are several more of the same kind to follow, though the foe discounts them by putting a man there.
Meanwhile, Lieutenant Smith is not idle; he is not as fierce a driver as his companion, but his wrist play through the slips is delightfully clean and well timed.
The opponents’ score is passed long since, and still no wicket. Ah! there is one at last. Lieutenant Benn is caught, for an innings of 69, thoroughly well played: and the score is 117 for one wicket; very good business!
Lieutenant de Burgh, of whom great things are usually expected, is bowled by a shooter from the left hander; Lieutenant Smith is caught for a capital innings of 46; Cadets Sparling and Beal show nice form with the bat, the latter scoring 17; then Dr. Bobardt and the “pro” get together and play out time. The doctor is a left hander, and smites very hard when he gets his opportunity; mid-on has occasion to wring his fingers and inspect them dubiously more than once, testifying mutely to the vigour of the doctor’s drives—or, possibly, not mutely; but his remarks are not audible to the gallery.
Total, for six wickets, 214; and of course, being a one day match, it was in reality a victory by ten wickets, Dr. Bobardt and Lord taking out their bats for 47 and 20 respectively.
And what about the second eleven? They are playing Montpelier School; Lieutenant Chetwode plays with them, as a set off against the master on the other side, who is a very big man and a very keen cricketer.
Britannia bats first, and does very creditably: Powell 49, Cull 44, Ling 25, Nicholson 22, and no ducks; “extras” comes out with an unusually long score, 22; total, 221. Towards the end of the innings Montpelier’s bowling was very slack, and Cadet Powell displayed good capacity for availing himself of it, repeatedly getting boundaries away to the bank under the trees on the west side; big leg hits, well timed.
The School would have come off badly, indeed, without their master, who went in first wicket down and scored 91; no one was able to keep him company very long, and it looked like a certain victory for Britannia when the ninth wicket fell with some time to spare. However, the last two men kept their ends up, and the result was a draw, greatly in Britannia’s favour, the School score having only reached 168.