d then a
full pitch--'e's a disgrace."

"They've knocked him off his length," I protested. "On a wicket like
this ..."

Stott shook his head. "I've been trying to learn 'im," he said, "but he
can't never learn. 'E's got 'abits what you can't break 'im of."

"I suppose it _is_ difficult," I said vaguely.

"Same with me," went on Stott, "I've been trying to learn myself to bowl
without my finger"--he held up his mutilated hand--"or left-'anded; but
I can't. If I'd started that way ... No! I'm always feeling for that
finger as is gone. A second-class bowler I might be in time, not better
nor that."

"It's early days yet," I ventured, intending encouragement, but Stott
frowned and shook his head.

"I'm not going to kid myself," he said, "I know. But I'm going to find a
youngster and learn 'im. On'y he must be young.

"No 'abits, you know," he explained.

The next time I met Stott was in November. I ran up against him,
literally, one Friday afternoon in Ailesworth.

When he recognised me he asked me if I would care to walk out to
Stoke-Underhill with him. "I've took a cottage there," he explained,
"I'm to be married in a fortnight's time."

His circumstances certainly warranted such a venture. The proceeds of
matinee and benefit, invested for him by the Committee of the County
Club, produced an income of nearly two pounds a week, and in addition to
this he had his salary as groundsman. I tendered my congratulations.

"Oh! well, as to that, better wait a bit," said Stott.

He walked with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground. He
had the air of a man brooding over some project.

"It _is_ a lottery, of course ..." I began, but he interrupted me.

"Oh that!" he said, and kicked a stone into the ditch; "take my chances
of that. It's the kid I'm thinking on."

"The kid?" I repeated, doubtful whether he spoke of his fiancee, or
whether his nuptials pointed an act of reparation.

"What, else 'ud I tie myself up for?" asked Stott. "I must 'ave a kid of
my own and learn 'im from his cradle. It's come to that."

"Oh! I understand," I said; "teach him to bowl."

"Ah!" replied Stott as an affirmative. "Learn 'im from his cradle;
before 'e's got 'abits. When I started I'd never bowled a ball in my
life, and by good luck I started right. But I can't find another kid
over seven years old in England as ain't never bowled a ball o' some
sort and started 'abits. I've tried ..."

"And you hope with your own