-keeper, an unobservant
bowler would frequently say, "How's that?" And an ill-informed umpire
would reply, "Out." It was my duty before the game began to take the
visiting umpire on one side and give him a practical demonstration of
the click ...

But these are troubles of the past. I have my new bat now, and I can see
that cricket will become a different game for me. My practice of this
morning has convinced me of this. It was not one of your stupid
practices at the net, with two burly professionals bumping down balls at
your body and telling you to "Come out to them, Sir." It was a quiet
practice in my rooms after breakfast, with no moving object to distract
my attention and spoil my stroke. The bat comes up well. It is light,
and yet there is plenty of wood in it. Its drives along the carpet were
excellent; its cuts and leg glides all that could be wished. I was a
little disappointed with its half-arm hook, which dislodged a teacup and
gave what would have been an easy catch to mid-on standing close in by
the sofa; but I am convinced that a little oil will soon put that right.

And yet there seemed to be something lacking in it. After trying every
stroke with it; after tucking it under my arm and walking back to the
bathroom, touching my cap at the pianola on the way; after experiments
with it in all positions, I still felt that there was something wanting
to make it the perfect bat. So I put it in a cab and went round with it
to Henry. Henry has brightened first-class cricket for some years now.

"Tell me, Henry," I said, "what's wrong with this bat?"

"It seems all right," he said, after waving it about. "Rather a good
one."

I laid it down on the floor and looked at it. Then I turned it on its
face and looked at it. And then I knew.

"It wants a little silver shield on the back," I said. "That's it."

"Why, is it a presentation bat?" asked Henry.

"In a sense, yes. It was presented to me by Twyford."

"What for?"

"Really," I said modestly, "I hardly like---- Why do people give one
things? Affection, Henry; pity, generosity--er----"

"Are you going to put that on the shield? 'Presented out of sheer pity
to----'"

"Don't be silly; of course not. I shall put 'Presented in commemoration
of his masterly double century against the Authentics,' or something
like that. You've no idea how it impresses the wicket-keeper. He really
sees quite a lot of the back of one's bat."

"Your inscription," said Henry,