im, so that we might prevent him from hurting
the feelings of the Burlington men.

In the middle of the field a small space had been mown, and the pitch
itself, apart from a few holes, was not at all bad, but Bagshaw, who
was captaining the Busters, decided at once that he should keep wicket
because he did not want to stand up to his knees in grass. The captain
of the Burtington team was the local publican, a hearty man who told us
in the same breath that he was very glad to see us, and that he had
played cricket for thirty years, boy and man. His name was Plumb, and
I liked him very much; he played in both braces and a belt, because he
told us belts were ticklish things and braces sometimes burst. I
answered that it was always well to be on the safe side, and we had
quite a confidential talk, until Lambert and Dennison came up and
interrupted us. Lambert began to complain about the long grass, and I
was afraid Mr. Plumb might be offended, but I expect he had seen a good
many people like Lambert, and he only smiled compassionately at him.

"You see it's like this," he said, "this damp, not to call it a wet
spring, has made this yer grass grow, and what I say is that weather
that is good for farmers up to June is bad for us cricketers. But,
bless me, there's nothing to complain of here--I've played cricket in
some funny places if you like, and many a dap on the side of the head
I've had in my time."

"This man," Dennison remarked, pointing at me, "is a very fast bowler."

Mr. Plumb shut one eye and looked at me with interest. "Then," he
said, "I think you had better bowl up the hill; I have seen them kick a
bit at the other end, nothing to speak of, but Bill Higgs got his nose
cut open come next Saturday three weeks; he's a fast bowler if you
like, I've seen Spofforth and I've seen Mold, but for pace give me Bill
Higgs."

"Is he playing to-day?" Lambert asked as unconcernedly as he could.

"Oh yes, he's playing, he's the terror of the neighbourhood. There he
is, the tall man, he's our policeman when he's not playing cricket. My
eye, his arms are like tree-trunks," and Mr. Plumb left us and walked
over to talk to Bill Higgs, but I am not at all sure that he did not
wink at me before he went.

"You didn't score much there," I said to Dennison.

"Cricket isn't good enough in these outlandish holes," he answered, and
seized Collier to tell him about Bill Higgs. Lambert went off hastily
to get a drink, and w