ROUND THE OVAL.

Press, Volume LII, Issue 9229, 5 October 1895, Page 5

ROUND THE OVAL.

St. James's Budget,

Cricket Match at Oval. Afternoon of last day's play. Crowded seats border the ground; -white-flannelled player 9in centre. Home county In ; Northern county fielding. Huge gasometer (too stout to play) frowns at side. Critical Spectator (agerievedly). But what I like and what I will 'ivve is style, and that's what you never seem to get nowadays. liook a;, the wivy young thing- j me-bob that's in now 'olds 'is bat. (Imitates with walkiiiß stick). Why, it ain't crUket, Pearsou, it ain't science, it j ain't art, (disgustedly) it ain't nothing. PEARSON. He's a pood batter, though. Hβ can knock up the runs. Chitical Spio. That's got nothing at all to do with it, Pearson. I don't like the way he's got. Seem's to mc so awk'ard somehow. Some one ought to set to and learn him. Peaiisok. What does ifc matter how be holds it, so long as he—— Critical Spec. That's all very well. I don't mind seeing a man knock up runs. I like good 'ard 'itting as well as anyone; but what I do go in for is Well, look 'ere. I remember very well once I run up across old what's-his-name that use to play for Kent, and—it was in a pub it was—and I says, "What's it to be?" and he says, "Oh, I don't know," he says; "a mild and bitter won't do any particular 'arm," and so ) waxing interested) 1 calls for the mild and bitter, and I pays for it, and then I puts the question to him straight. Pearson. But look at W.G. What price W.G., I should like to Critical Spec. No, no, now. Jeet allow mc to finish what I'm telling you. You can talk when I've done. Pearson (complainingly). But you never seem to be done. Critical Spec. And, aa I say, when he'd had a pull at his mild and bitter I put the question to him. I didn't beat about the bush at all. (Firmly) That ain't my atyle a bit. I jest said, "Look 'ere," I said, "you know something of cricket;" and he saya, " Well, I ought to;" and I says, " Now, do you consider that the modern so-called cricket has got any style about it? , and be!turns!round—jest like this—and he says, " your modern cricket,' he says, "is damror." Pearson (watching play). Nearly bowled that time. Critical Spec, (with much reliah). Yes, he says," Yoar modern cricket," he says, " is what I call " ißatsman caught by agile Northcounty man. A Few Voices. Bray vo-o I Well caught air. Well done, sir. [Home sympathisers grumble sotto voce. Languid Girl. What's tho score now, Percy dear ? Percy DEAR'(curtly). Eighty-eight. Languid Girl. Oh, isn't that a large number? Fancy, eighty-eight. (Giggles). Eight times eleven, isn't it f (Percy dear, watching incoming batsman, does not answer). I say, dear—it's eight times eleven, isn't it % Percy Dear. What is f Languid Girl. Why eighty-eight is, (Protettingly) Oh, Percy, dear, I don't believe you listen to one-half what I say. You're fonder of cricket than you are even of poor little mc. Ido believe you'd ten timee rather look on at a game of cricket any day of the week than talk to—(shyly) to anybody. Your mother was saying only the other night—l called in, being at BrixtOD, on the off-chance of finding you at home—and your mother was saying, "Percy losee his head," she Raid, "fairly ' losee his head directly anybody begins to talk about cricket." And upon my word Percy Dear (to neighbour). But I say, there. Why doa't he run? (Excitedly to batsman) Run another, run another! (Ball hits wicket.) Thrown out, by jingo I (Umpire appealed to says "not out.") Good business! (Triumphantly) Jest got over the crease iv time. Lansuid Girl. What's a crease, dear ? (No answer.) How do you spell it? Remiude one (humorously) of a relish for tea, don't it? Percy Dear (goaded to plainness). Haven't you goc anything you can hare a read at for a bit ? I tell you etraigbt, I want to watch the game. [Languid Girl sighs, takes folded novelette from skirt-pocket and reads. Crowd (ehouting). Well hit, sir, well hit! Boy (ironically to perspiring racing Lone-ou). AEter it, old man, after it 1 Save the babndary, for goodnee*' sake ! North count y Man. Ah consider oor folks a bit loose in their fieldin' like. Ah allus said the team wanted weeding, mind you. (Impartially) Ah may ba right or an may be wroong, but thot's ma opeenion There's one or two of era aa ought to be playing at coodam or some soochllke game. It'n ower much in the hands of what ah call a clique to ma mind. There's a yoonz friend of mine—only a yoong ch»p he isn't —that ah've gooc in my eye now. His Friend. You keep him there, old chap. If it isu't any ill-convonieuce to you, you keep him there. iCricket poDt bobs up reaped fully in front of crowd. ■ Post (loudly). Gentlemen, I 'uve 'ere my new poem on Stoddart, offered to him by a 'vunble admirer on his return from Australia's sunny shores; also I 'aye also a welcome 'ome poem to George Lohmann, known to all of us as one of the best. I 'aye al»o-^— Lady in White tto Lady in Blue). I don't know that I won'c sport a pennorth just for once. I always «ay it's the sort of thiug that ought to be encouraged to a j certain extent. (Buys.) Poetry's so uiuc'.s nicer than anything else, isn't it? Blue. I was never much of a one for it myself. Lady in White. Oh I dote on it. Fairly dote on it. Look here now for instance. (Reads.) Oh, welcome mighty cricketer, welcome to Albion 3 shore. You've fought the fight grandly, and will fight many more; A thousand voice*— and so forth, and so forth. Nice, isn't it, the way it's all put. I'd give anything to be able to do it. What I mean to say is it muat piss the time away so. Blue (neverely). There's many more useful thir.R« anyone can occupy their minds over. Making your own hats or buying calico, for instance, and letting to work and—

WmrE. All, that's another matter altogether. [Eγ Dnrr.Y Loafer beams on QUTET Yourn. E(.rk:::.y Lo.vrrn. Dane with your evening paoer, sir? Thank you. I likes to 'lire a look throußli the paper now and again. I L.y (loubtfully), you ain't got such a thing at a bit o' lead pencil about yo<». QniEx Yourn (finding one). I think I hrm\ LoAiKn. Thank you, again, sir. I wnnt jpst to tot down one or two of these yer scores. Perhaps you don't want your »care-c.»rd sir^ Qliet Yoliii (Krudginsly). You can have it if you really want it. Loafer. 1 lilce to keep a bit of what ycu may call memento of these yer games. I cm recollect a tidy few*, too. (Shakes head knowingly). You don't remember tho time when (hey use to play iv tall 'at«, I lay. No, no; of course not. You wouldn't. But lord, how people would »tare if they was to see it now. Ever teen the cals play at it, sir? Quiet Youth. Can't say I have. Loafer. That was as rummy a sight as ever / want to see. My old ooman was with mc, and, uiy stars 1 how the old gal did carry on I Got such a thing as a piece of string about you, sir ? Quikt Youth (giving string). Was she pleased i Loai'er. Pleased? (Laughs ironically.) Bless your 'cart, she. went fairly mad at the si.sht of 'cm. "Trollops," she says, " kickin' up tluir 'eeN :it a game like this," she says. " I'd cricket 'em," she says, "1C they was daughters of mine," she says. (Laughs again.) You ought to meet my missus, bhe'd keep you allus on the grin, she would. Wonderful woman she is, although I say it aa shouldn't (Produces mutch.) She won't lemine smoke at 'ome, but 1 jest 'aye a whiff now and ageu when I'm out. Quiet Youth. That's right. Loafer (thoughtfully). Now il I had a pipe—any pipe 'd do, and a bit of terbacca — not much terbacca, blow my old 'cad off if I wouldn't 'aye a smoke. (Frankly) I would, help mc beb! (Youth offers pouch). Thank'e, sir, I will ju*t take a pipeful—or two. And now if I on'y 'ad a pipe. (Youth gives a briar pipe). Thank you, sir. And now I'll jeat trot round and 'aye a quiet puff. (Suddenly) It's jest occurred to me—if this 'ere pipe don't dror well I shall waut some cigarette paper. (Quiet Youin hands him packet). Tlmnkye, sir, thanke. 'Ope I 'avan't robbed ycu. (Goes). Quiet Youth. Well, he might just as well have done. (Square-leg misses difficult catch. Boy (with much contempt). Yah t Can't 'old the ball, foolish ? (To neighbour). What's that chap's name, mister t (Mister gives information). I thought as much. (Calls to square-leg) Hi, you there I Take some of that margarine off your fingers. Constable. Why don't you 'old your row, kiddy ? You don't want mc to 'aul you out by the scruff of your neck, do you? Boy (soothingly). It's awright, Inspector. Constable. Don't you inspector mc or give mc any of your cheek, or I'll aoon show you which is master, you or mc. Boy. 1 give in, guvnor. You're knocked mc out this round. I ain't been in i lining long enough. My name's the Coffee Cooler, and since I Constable (unappeased). Another word of your sauce, my boy, and [Winning hit sends ball Iα direction of stout gasometer. Crowd (running across field and shouting with much enthusiasm). Brayvo, sir I well done you, sir 1 Three cheers for—-r Boy (frantically). 'Oist 'Im on jut shou'ders! Goonl (To adults.) 'Oist'im up I Why don't you! You ain't 'all chaps. W. Pett Ridge.