United States or Ireland ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


"What a bother they are making about these wretched corn-laws! Here's three or four columns full of nothing but sliding scales and fixed duties. Hang this tobacco, it's always going out! Ah, here's something better a splendid match between Kent and England, Brown, Kent winning by three wickets. Felix fifty-six runs without a chance, and not out!"

The sun was our arch enemy! To break the monotony, we tried whatever sport was possible in the sand. The national game, cricket, came in for a trial, but was more laughter-provoking than recreative: a bundle of rags tightly rolled up in a sphere served as a ball, and pieces of boards of old packing-cases served as bats and wickets.

He survived all the other wickets of his side, and, though not making a brilliant score, did what was almost as useful played steadily, and gradually demoralised the bowling of the enemy.

I became the unhappy possessor of five dressed dolls, a lady's "nubia," a baby-jumper, fourteen "tidies," a set of parlor croquet with wickets that wouldn't stand on their legs, a patent churn warranted to make a pound of fresh butter in three minutes out of a quart of chalk-and-water, a set of ladies' nightcaps, two child's aprons, a castle-in-the-air, a fairy-palace, a doll's play-house, a toy-balloon, a box of marbles, a pair of spectacles, a pair of pillow-shams, a young lady's work-basket, seven needle-books, a cradle-quilt, a good many bookmarks, a sofa-cushion, and an infant's rattle, warranted to cut one's eye teeth; besides which I had tickets in a fruit cake, a locket, a dressing-bureau, a baby-carriage, a lady's watch-chain, and an infant's wardrobe complete.

The cricket-match came off with great éclat; in spite of a steady thirteen from the Rector, who spent two hours in "compiling" it to use the technical term and of several catches missed by Sir Roderick, who was tried in vain in all positions in the field, the Manor team won by five wickets, and Bob Territon felt that his summer had been well spent.

The Incogs, with a team recruited exclusively from the rabbit hutch not a well-known man on the side except Stacey, a veteran who had been playing for the club for nearly half a century had got home by two wickets. In fact, it was Strachan's opinion that the Wrykyn team that summer was about the most hopeless gang of deadbeats that had ever made exhibition of itself on the school grounds.

It was the last day of the Ilsworth cricket week, and the house team were struggling hard on a damaged wicket. During the first two matches of the week all had been well. Warm sunshine, true wickets, tea in the shade of the trees.

Probably, on the principle that the early bird gets the worm, he determined to be out in good time this morning. But for once in a way the bird was too early for the worm, and Bloomfield prowled about for a good quarter of an hour before the aspiring youth of Willoughby mustered at the wickets.

He had played on wickets of this pace at home against Saunders's bowling, and Saunders had shown him the right way to cope with them. The next ball was of the same length, but this time off the off-stump. Mike jumped out, and hit it before it had time to break. It flew along the ground through the gap between cover and extra-cover, a comfortable three. Bob played out the over with elaborate care.

'That's what I call really nicely expressed, said Marriott to the umpire. 'Yes, over the wicket. Marriott was a slow, 'House-match' sort of bowler. That is to say, in a House match he was quite likely to get wickets, but in a First Eleven match such an event was highly improbable.