ion. Further, as
containing an excellent moral, it may be said that this pair of
spectacles is suitable to the sight of everyone, from Materfamilias
up from the country to Master JACKY home for his Midsummer holidays.

* * * * *

[Illustration: BANK HOLIDAY SPORTS. "KISS-IN-THE-RING."

"NONE BUT THE FAIR DESERVE THE BRAVE."]

* * * * *

THE CLOSE OF THE INNINGS.

_Bowler_. Over at last!

_Wicket-keeper._ Humph! Yes, but not "all out!"
Time's up! All glad to leave the field, no doubt;
But _I_'m not satisfied.

_Bowler._ You never are!

_Wicket-keeper._ Some thought you, when you joined the team, a star,
Equal, at least, to SPOFFORTH, FERRIS, TURNER,
Yet sometimes you have bowled like a school-learner.

_Bowler._ That's most discouraging! Come now, I say,
You know that every Cricketer has "his day,"
Whilst the best bat or trundler may be stuck.
And, though he try his best, be "out of luck."
Ask W.G. himself! Early this season
He couldn't score, for no apparent reason.
Now look at him! Almost as good as ever!

_Wicket-keeper._ Well, ye-e-s! But you were thought so jolly clever.
To me it seems 'tis your idea of Cricket
To smash the wicket-keeper--not the wicket.
Look at my hands! They're mostly good to cover me;
With _you_, by Jingo, I need pads all over me!

_Bowler._ Oh, well, you know, fast bowling, with a break,
Not every wicket-keeper's game to take.
You are not quite a SHERWIN or a WOOD,
Or even a McGREGOR. You're no good
At bowling that has real "devil" in it.

_Wicket-keeper._ The--dickens I am not! Just wait a minute!
I have stood up to GRANDOLPH at his wildest.
You know _his_ pitch and pace; not quite the mildest,
Scarce equal, certainly, to "demon" DIZZY,
But when he's on the spot he keeps one busy.
It's not your "devil," JOKIM, that I dread;
That's easy, when you're "bowling with your head,"
But when you sling them in, as you've done lately,
Swift but _not_ straight, why, then you vex me greatly.
Your pet fast bumpy ones, wide of the wicket,
Perhaps look showy, but they are not Cricket.

_Bowler._ Oh, bother! You're the crossest of old frumps.
Why, bless you, SMITH, I stood behind the stumps
Long before you pu