players, said with this obstruction on his tongue:

"Plo-ay."

When the twenty-eighth ball of that over had been bowled, I went
across to Penny, presented my compliments, and intimated that six
balls constituted an over. In a reply of some length he showed that
he had a sucked fruit-ball in his mouth, which he must of necessity
finish before he called "over," as the word required a certain
rounding of the lips, and the confectionery might shoot out of his
mouth at the effort. An impertinent little junior echoed my
criticism.

"Yes," he protested, "there are six balls to an over."

Penny placed the fruit-ball between his gums and his cheek, and
answered magnificently:

"There are not. There are just as many as I choose to give."

Then he took the fruit-ball on his tongue again and added:

"We-soom your plo-ay."

The bowler having exerted himself twenty-nine times, was a little
tired and erratic, and the thirtieth ball hit Square-leg in the
stomach.

"Wide," announced Penny, without a smile.

The thirty-first ball, amid disorderly laughter, was caught by
Point before it pitched. The batsman meanwhile sat astride his bat:
he was the only person who seemed out of harm's way. Point held up
the ball triumphantly and yelled to Penny: "What's that, umpire?"

"I think it would not be unreasonable," answered Penny, "to call
that a wide."

This was a long sentence, and the fruit-ball shot out about half-way
through.

Relieved of this confectionery, Penny proceeded to give a practical
illustration of "How to bowl." I fear he intended to show off, and
to send down a ball at express speed which should shatter the
stumps. At any rate, while the Suckers watched with breathless
interest, he took a long run and let fly. One thing in favour of
Penny's ball was that it went straight. But it flew two feet over
the head of the batsman, who flung himself upon his face. It pitched
opposite Long-stop.

"Run!" yelled the batsman, picking himself up. "_Bye!_ Run, you
fool! Bye, idiot!" This was addressed to the batsman at the other
end, who was swinging his bat like an Indian club and paying no
attention to the game. He pulled himself together on being appealed
to, and ran, but it was evident that he could not reach his crease,
as Long-stop had accidentally stopped the lightning-ball--much to
his own chagrin--and was hurling it back to the wicket-keeper with
all the enthusiasm of acute agony.

Our unhappy batsman did what e