it loves to bring down the most skilful
players. Johnson, the young bowler, is getting wild, and bowls a ball
almost wide to the off; the batter steps out and cuts it beautifully to
where cover-point is standing very deep--in fact almost off the ground.
The ball comes skimming and twisting along about three feet from the
ground; he rushes at it, and it sticks somehow or other in the fingers
of his left hand, to the utter astonishment of himself and the whole
field. Such a catch hasn't been made in the close for years, and the
cheering is maddening. "Pretty cricket," says the captain, throwing
himself on the ground by the deserted wicket with a long breath. He
feels that a crisis has passed.

I wish I had space to describe the match--how the captain stumped the
next man off a leg-shooter, and bowled small cobs to old Mr. Aislabie,
who came in for the last wicket; how the Lord's men were out by
half-past twelve o'clock for ninety-eight runs; how the captain of
the School eleven went in first to give his men pluck, and scored
twenty-five in beautiful style; how Rugby was only four behind in
the first innings; what a glorious dinner they had in the fourth-form
school; and how the cover-point hitter sang the most topping comic
songs, and old Mr. Aislabie made the best speeches that ever were heard,
afterwards. But I haven't space--that's the fact; and so you must fancy
it all, and carry yourselves on to half-past seven o'clock, when the
School are again in, with five wickets down, and only thirty-two runs
to make to win. The Marylebone men played carelessly in their second
innings, but they are working like horses now to save the match.

There is much healthy, hearty, happy life scattered up and down the
close; but the group to which I beg to call your especial attention
is there, on the slope of the island, which looks towards the
cricket-ground. It consists of three figures; two are seated on a bench,
and one on the ground at their feet. The first, a tall, slight and
rather gaunt man, with a bushy eyebrow and a dry, humorous smile, is
evidently a clergyman. He is carelessly dressed, and looks rather used
up, which isn't much to be wondered at, seeing that he has just finished
six weeks of examination work; but there he basks, and spreads himself
out in the evening sun, bent on enjoying life, though he doesn't quite
know what to do with his arms and legs. Surely it is our friend the
young master, whom we have had glimpses