Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 23, 2025
He had walked into Stoke-Underhill to deliver a parcel, and on his way back his attention was arrested by the sight of a line of vehicles drawn up to the boarded fencing that encloses the Ailesworth County Ground. The occupants of these vehicles were standing up, struggling to catch a sight of the match that was being played behind the screen erected to shut out non-paying sightseers.
I did not see Stott again till August, and then I had a long talk with him on the Ailesworth County Ground, as together we watched the progress of Hampdenshire's defeat by Lancashire. "Oh! I can't learn him nothing," he broke out, as Flower was hit to the four corners of the ground, "'alf vollies and long 'ops and then a full pitch 'e's a disgrace."
Stott stared moodily into the fire. "And it won't be so out of the way far for you, at Pym, with your bike," she continued; "and we can't stop 'ere." "We might 'a took a place in Ailesworth," said Stott. "But it'll be so much 'ealthier for 'im up at Pym," protested Ellen. "It'll be fine air up there for 'im." "Oh! 'im. Yes, all right for 'im," said Stott, and spat into the fire.
There are many people alive in Ailesworth to-day who can remember the sturdy, freckled, sandy-haired boy who used to go round with the morning and evening papers; the boy who was to change the fortunes of a county. Ginger was phenomenally thorough in all he undertook. It was one of the secrets of his success.
Seen from that height, it has something the effect of a Dutch landscape, it all looks so amazingly tidy. Away to the left I looked over Stoke-Underhill. Ailesworth was a blur in the hollow, but I could distinguish the high fence of the County Ground. I sat all the morning on Deane Hill, musing and smoking, thinking of such things as Ginger Stott, and the match with Surrey.
I remembered at last that I had first thought of writing it after my return from America, on the day that I had had that curious experience with the child in the train. It occurred to me that by a reversal of the process, I might regain many more of my original thoughts; that by going to live, temporarily perhaps, in the neighbourhood of Ailesworth, I might revive other associations.
Before his son was a year old, Stott had grown to loathe his home, to dread his return to it, yet it did not occur to him until another year had passed that he could, if he would, set up another establishment on his own account; that he could, for instance, take a room in Ailesworth, and leave his wife and child in the cottage.
I looked round, but the ramshackle cart was hidden by the turn of the road. "Does Stott still live at Pym?" I asked. "Not Ginger," replied Bates. "He lives at Ailesworth. Mrs. Stott and 'er son lives here." "The boy's still alive then?" I asked. "Yes," said Bates. "Intelligent child?" I asked. "They say," replied Bates. They say 'e's read every book in Mr. Challis's librairy."
I was never a good journalist. But I went down to Ailesworth on Monday morning, and found that Findlater and Stott had already gone to Harley Street to see Graves, the King's surgeon. I followed them, and arrived at Graves's house while Stott was in the consulting-room. I hocussed the butler and waited with the patients.
I was reporting the Surrey match for two papers, and in company with poor Wallis interviewed Stott before the first innings. His appearance made a great impression on me. I have, of course, met him, and talked with him many times since then, but my most vivid memory of him is the picture recorded in the inadequate professional dressing-room of the old Ailesworth pavilion.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking