Cricket 1910

A p r i l 2 8 , 1910. CRICKET A WEEKLY RECORD OF THE GAME. 87 TH E CONVERTED POET. MAID who, in days more strait and formal, Used to be hailed as source abnormal Of inspiration ; sought in prayers To plaster thoughts in verbal layers ; Assist another feeble bard (Or, if yon can’t, please don’t retard,) To sing : how one of thy vast train Was argued, dearest muse, again, Out of the mists of fallacy And cynical apostacy, Like a well-mannered homing pigeon, Back to the Englishman’s religion ! A Poet, who was rather vain, Once went Up on an aeroplane And, truth though strange must be related, With self-conceit was so inflated That, when the aeroplane descended, It left him up on high suspended ; Whilst—strangest fact of all about him — The world went rolling on without him ! This Poet, in the upper regions Stranded, amid the heavenly legions, UDsung, unhonoured, e’en unmiss’d, Still managed somehow to exist; For, floating far above Ihe air In medium more sublime and rare, His body wouldn’t mortify And, consequently, couldn’t die. So he entranced through space did whiz For years and years, aye, centuries, Until, a planetary car Returning from the Evening Star, Its Pilot caught him, safe and sound, Fetched him to earth aud brought him round. On waking he with terror heard The Pilot saying, word for word, “ ’Twas lucky we came through the heavens That way with our two famed X I’s ! ” The Poet gave a dismal waul And nearly perished after a ll! His rescuers were sorely tasked ; “ What ails you now ? ” they kindly asked. The Poet for awhile said nought Then mumbled, like a man distraught, “ 0, say not the ‘ XI's,’ sirs, You uttered stood for Cricketers, For, if such sons of idle folly Survive, I’ll die of melancholy ! ” The Pilot with surprise stood smitten. “ Methought,” said he, “ you were a Briton ; I marvel that you should exclaim Against your grand historic game.” “ Historic game be hanged ! ” the Poet Swore, “ ’Tis a scandal, and you know it, To see grown men like children playing ! ” The Pilot asked, “ What are you saying ? Would you have all amusements, then, Foregone as soon as we be men ; And all life’s pleasantness and joys Restricted to the little boys ? Methinks our elder folk have need Of these in quite as large a meed.” The Poet thus : “ To work and earn, Experiment, invent, and learn, Deduce, illuminate and teach, Compose, design, orate and preach, Are occupations far more fit To occupy men’s time and wit.” The Pilot broke in : “ Not so fast! You’re speakiDg of conditions past. We live in more enlightened days And work in much superior ways. On learning little time we squander, Nor, seeking truth, have far to wander. Of what and why and how things are We’ve long been perfectly aware ; And memory no more is rack’d To hoard up slight details of fact, Packed more conveniently in books For anyone who wants, and looks. To these our children get the key, Simple and brief, in infancy ; Acquiring in the public schools A mastery of general rules, And principles, and laws applied, And moral discipline beside. Unlike your one-time brats, encumbered With arts irrelevant, unnumbered, That vexed them all their childhood years And muddled up the little dears, Our youths are qualified at ten As sane, polite and selfless men. To earn they then have little need, Who smile at futile pomp and greed Now but traditions, half believed, And never more to be received. On labour we few efforts spend, Who’ve harnessed nature to that end; Our task is simply to direct Her pow’rs to the desired effect. And, after that, we’ve ample leisure To give ourselves and others pleasure ; For, recollect, to anxious toil Pleasure’s the necessary foil.” “ You please me much,” the Poet quoth, “ Things have improved, upon my oath ! But, yet, you’ve not made out a case Why games like cricket should have place Among your pastimes. Surely art, The stage and pictures play a part —Or eke the bandstand, concert hall, Museum, billiard-room or ball — More rational than cricket fields ; And poesy more pleasure yields.” “ 0, fie ! ” the Pilot answered, “ toys Like these suit namby-pamby boys. To sniff the indoors tainted air, To moon and spoon with ladies fair, And tread the idio:ic measures, Or rhapsodize on tawdry treasures, To watch enacted phantasies We’d do ourselves or els 3 despise, To sit and see, and mope, or muse, Or sigh, or simper, may amuse The tender weanling ; men of spirit In hardy spoit see much more merit.” Just here he paused, a bit abrupt, To let the Poet interrupt Thiswise : “ I see you’re men of breeding ; What do you urge concerning reading ? ” Tue Pilot said, “ You ask with reason And reading's very well—in season ; And so, like music, chess and chatter, Are other hobbies, for that matter. In fact a book is my delight To while away a winter's night; Though poetry has this sad fault: Only one author’s worth his salt. (I need not indicate his name For every poet knows the same.) “ Reading intent, I’ve many whiles Turned up your old newspaper files; Turned sick’ning from your law reports (Thankful that we’ve no longer Courts;) Turned from your shabby politics, And twaddle that you’d intermix As Crimes, Finance, Society, And suchlike, with satiety ; But sudden interest have found, [sound,’ And thought ‘ Here’s something clean and When in the parts that dealt with sports I’ve dropped on cricketing reports. Then could I recognise^ at last, That worthy men lived in the past. In fact, to dream I’d oft begin, Of Grace or Fry or Alfred Mynn, And almost wish’d I’d lived before To interview such giants of yore.” “ 0, those reports ! the wicked waste! ” The Poet cried, “ You must have taste! But change the subject, please ; you told Just now your folk love pleasures bold. If exercise possess such charms, Why, there’s the exercise of arms. To learn, I ween, ’tvvere better far Proficiency in arts of war Than, armed with bats to sally out A puny leather ball to clout.” “ Alas ! ” the Pilot said “ I see I discourse with barbarity. You represent a bygone age When men mad warfare used to wage j Proving, by sanguinary might In quarrels, not which side was right But which was armed most ‘ up-to-date,’ Or had most money in the state: When nations’ bravest sons were led In battlefields, their blood to shed That recreants, behind their backs, Fat on the spoils of war might wax, And useless left-behinds rejoice, Self-proud with hypocritic voice ! ” “ Our army, sir? We've none at all Save that that's armed with bat and ball. In fact you’ve seen it, having seen us Returning from a trip to Venus Where we, our colonists attacking, Have given them a frightful whacking. Yet they, so far from feeling sorrow, Will try their luck down here to-morrow.” {To be continued.) FILEY v. HUDDERSFIELD. Several Yorkshire county cricketers took part in this match at Filey on the 20th inst. Rain caused the game to be abandoned with the score as follows :—■ F il e y . Wilson, b Hirst 16 Hunter, lbw, b Pontefract 13 A. Helm, run out 0 A. E. Long, b Lee 2 W. S. Robinson, W. Wheldon, c b Rhodes 39 Shaw, b Stod- dart 11 G. T. Clarkson, c J. Southwell, b Bates, b Hirst 16 Lee 3 Newstead, c Lee, Hirst, G., not b Rhodes 5 out 4 Ringrose (F. R.), Ringrose, (W.) b Pontefract .. 4 c Pontefract, b Stoddart 2 Byes, etc. . 16 Total ..:L31 H uddersfield . Rhodes, c ClarkBates (E.), not son, b Ringrose 6 out 11 J. E. Haley, not Byes, etc. .. 1 , 13 — Total (1 wkt) 31 THE NORFOLK CRICKET ANNUAL .* It is a good sign that the Norfolk Cricket Annual should be published again, after remaining in abeyance for several seasons. Last year the County results were not very good, but great efforts are being made to revive interest in the game there, and a good season is being looked forward to. The Annual consists of 112 pages, and contains full scores of all matches played last year by the County, as well as a great deal of infor­ mation concerning other phases of Norfolk cricket. A biographical notice and portrait of the Rev. G. B. Raikes are given, and there are also articles on “ Some Sensational Half-hours at Lakenham,” “ How to revive Village Cricket,” and “ The Necessity of Cricket and Football.” * The Norfolk Cricket Annual, Season , 190'J-10. Edited by Mr. C. B. L. Prior, of Thorpe Hurst, Thori>e St. Andrew, Norwich, from whom copies may be obtained. Price, post free, 3d.