story) after that
cruise, and two days after his visit to the hill there was a
cricket-match between a team from our flotilla and a team from theirs.
The idea was for all hands to forget rank for a while, get into the
game, and so cement the entente between the two nations.

Chiz was picked for one of our team, and you all know what a husky he
is, and what he used to do with a baseball-bat. There aren't many who
ever hit 'em any further or oftener than Chiz on the old Annapolis
ball-field. He was one of the first of our fellows to go to bat. He's
standing there--in the box, or whatever they call it, waiting for one to
his liking; and looking around the field wondering where he will place
it when he gets one to his liking. And as he looks he spies his friend
the admiral, playing what we'd call left field. And just beyond the
admiral the ground sloped away for a hundred yards or so.

Chiz hefts his bat--and you know those cricket-bats, what they look like
and how they feel after you've been used to meeting fast ones with a
narrow baseball-bat. They are wide and heavy and springy. Chiz doesn't
pay any attention to three or four balls that come along, except to fend
them away from the wicket with his wide cricket-bat. He knew what he
wanted, and by and by he got one--one about knee-high with a little
incurve to it. Chiz sets himself and swings and whale-O it goes, over
the old admiral's head and down the slope beyond.

Chiz makes all the runs the law allows--six, I think it is--and he's
sitting resting on the wide part of his cricket-bat before the admiral
even shows the top of his head over the hill with the ball. When he does
and heaves it about half-way to the pitcher, or bowler, or whatever they
call him, he's out of breath.

Chiz sets himself for another one knee-high with an inshoot, and when he
gets one he whales it again, and away trots the admiral on another hunt
down the hill. And Chiz makes six more runs before they even see the top
of the admiral's head over the brow of the hill.

The third time, and the fourth time, Chiz sets for a knee-high one with
an inshoot to it, and the third time and the fourth time he belts it
over the old fellow's head and down the long slope. But on the fourth
time the old fellow doesn't throw the ball in. He walks in with it and
he calls in the high official umpires, or whoever they are in charge,
and they have a conference, and the next thing they call the game off.
By this ti