'Ad promised a cane-'andler to the boy as made top score.
Oh I tell yer I meant 'aving it, if practisin' would do,
But my bat 'ad split a lump off, and it seemed to 'it askew.
'Ow can yer "keep a straight bat" when your bat itself aint straight?
But we did our level best, Bill, me an' Polly.
At our fate
Out at Petersham I tell you as we done the thing to rights,
None o' yer 'at-an'-coat piles for the wickets, as is sights
A cricketer cocks snooks at, when 'e knows the real game.
No penny injy-rubber and a club! Though, all the same,