PREHISTORIC PEEPS.
There were often Unforeseen Circumstances which gave to the Highland Stalking of those days an added zest!
BOWL ME NO MORE!
(An Unlucky Batsman's Lament after a Season of Slow Wickets.)
Air—"Ask me no more."
Bowl me no more: the man may draw the stumps; The rain may swoop from heaven and swamp the crease; In folds of baize the bat may lie at peace; But oh, too fond of yorkers, breaks and bumps, Bowl me no more!
Bowl me no more: 'tis dark at half-past five; The misty light betrays the keenest eye. O Cricket, dismal autumn bids thee die! Bowl me no more: Football is all alive; Bowl me no more!
Bowl me no more: bat's fate and ball's is seal'd. I strove to make my thousand, all in vain: Like a great river ran the ceaseless rain, And spoiled the wickets. Lo, I leave the field Bowl me no more!