Upon this he insulted me, as the Fourth Officer had done before him. He said:
“Do stand up to them, old man.”
I said:
“Why should I? I’m out to enjoy myself. I’m a human being, not a target. Besides, long-stop will lose interest in the game if he has nothing to do.”
“They don’t have long-stops in first-class cricket,” grumbled the Doctor. “You’ve got no proper pride.”
Then I said:
“Of course, if you are mistaking this display for first-class cricket, it’s no good arguing with you.”
In his second over the Doctor bowled a shade straighter, and began knocking the batsmen about, and hurting them and frightening them. If they had only kept in front of the wicket, and put their bats between their legs out of the way, they might have been safe enough, but they dashed nervously about and tried to escape; and the ball would shoot and hit their toes, or rise and threaten their heads, or break back into their stomachs. Then the bowler got a man “retired hurt,” and a regular panic set in.
“I’m keeping down the run-getting, anyhow,” said the elated Doctor.
“Yes, and you’ll have to mend all these local celebrities for nothing after the match,” replied our Treasure.