the writer failed to
evince the admirable skill displayed by his worthy prototype; the
Dumkins of grim reality was unable to compete with the Dumkins of
fiction. Instead of "sending the ball far away over the heads of the
scouts; who just stooped low enough to let it fly over them," I caught
it just as it pitched on a rabbit-hole, and sent it straight up into the
air like a soaring rocket. "Right, right, I have it!" yelled bowler and
wicket-keeper simultaneously. "Run two, Podder; they'll never catch it!"
shouted Dumkins with all his might. "Catch it in your 'at, Bill!"
screamed the Edgeworth eleven. Never was such confusion! I was already
starting for the second run, whilst my stout fellow batsman was halfway
through the first, when the ball came down like a meteor, and, narrowly
shaving the luckless "Podder's" head, hit the ground with a loud thud
about five yards distant from the outstretched hands of the anxious
bowler, who collided with his ally, the wicket-keeper, in the middle of
the pitch. Half stunned by the shock, and disappointed at his want of
success in his attempt to "judge" the catch, the bowler had yet presence
of mind enough to seize the ball and hurl it madly at the stumps. But
the wicket-keeper being still _hors de combat_, it flew away towards the
spectators, and buried itself among the mowing grass. "Come six,
Podder!" I shouted, amid cries of "Keep on running!" "Run it out!" etc.,
from spectators and scouts alike. And run we did, for the umpire forgot
to call "lost ball," and we should have been running still but for the
ingenuity of one of our opponents; for, whilst all were busily engaged
in searching among the grass, a red-faced yokel stole up unawares, with
an innocent expression on his face, raced poor "Podder" down the pitch,
produced the ball from his trouser pocket, and knocked off the bails in
the nick of time. "Out," says Peregrine, amid a roar of laughter from
the whole field; and Mr. "Podder" had to go.

Now came the question how many runs should be scored, for I had passed
my fellow batsman in the race, having completed seven runs to his five.
Eventually it was decided to split the difference and call it a sixer;
the suggestion of a member of our side that seven should be scored to me
and five to Mr. "Podder" (making twelve in all) being rejected after
careful consideration.

Thus, from the first ball bowled in this historic match there arose the
whole of the remarkable events record