He couldn't walk his chalks.
Despite the flasks of monstrous size
He'd emptied to the dregs,
He scored "wides," "overthrows," "leg-byes,"
And runs attained by legs.
For all the ceaseless rain which flows,
The rival teams care naught;
Though runs were made by many a nose,
And many a cold was caught.
Inside and out they all got wet—