at again. These negroes never forget an
injury of this kind. If our black stoker lives over to-morrow, he will
probably collect his colleagues from the ship, and row ashore by night
and seek out the local bowler, and make it very unrestful and exciting
for him.

The Model Man now came in, but he had the misfortune to lose my
assistance almost immediately. I was caught at short leg after a patient
innings of ten, slightly marred, however, by about the same number of
chances. The Fourth Officer took my place. He began by nearly running
out his Captain. If point had not stopped to dance and rub his leg, the
wicket must have fallen. Then the new-comer settled down and played with
great care, and irritated the bowlers extremely by giving them advice
and criticising their efforts. Once they sent him so slow a ball that it
never reached the wicket at all. Then our Fourth Officer rushed out and
hit it after it had stopped, and so, rather ingeniously, scored two. It
was a revolutionary sort of stroke, and the umpire said it must not be
counted, but the batsman insisted upon having the runs put down. Of
course, to argue with any umpire is madness. This black one simply
waited for the next over, and then gave our Fourth Officer out "leg
before." There was a great argument, but the umpire's ruling had to be
upheld, and the batsman retired, declaring that he would never play
cricket with savages again as long as he lived. He said:

"In the first place the ball was a wide, and in the second, after
breaking a yard and a half, it hit my elbow. Then that black ass gives
me out 'leg before.' It's sickening. Emancipation is the biggest error
of the century. I'm going back to the ship." But he did not. He found
something under a yellow parasol that comforted him.

The Doctor came in next, and hit the first ball he received over the
bowler's head for three. Encouraged by this success, he ran half across
the ground to the next one, missed it, and would have been stumped
under ordinary circumstances, but the ball, instead of going to the
wicket-keeper, shunted off at a sort of junction, and proceeded to
short-slip. He, desiring the honour of defeating the Doctor, would not
give the ball up, and tried to put the wicket down himself. This the
outraged custodian of the stumps refused to permit, and while they were
wrangling about it, and the rest of the team were screaming directions,
our batsman galloped safely back amidst loud applause.

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