SPORTS

Star (Christchurch), Issue 19268, 3 January 1931, Page 18 (Supplement)

SPORTS

CRICKET TIPS. The wicket-keeper is one of the most important men in the side, and a great deal depends on the efficiency with which he does his work. A good wicket-keeper can make only fair bowling dangerous, while a bad wicketkeeper can ruin the attack of the best bowlers. When standing up to the wicket, place yourself where you can nip off the bails without having to move forward, and stand with vour legs apart, so that you can reach out without overbalancing. Hold your hands with your fingers down, so that they are not bruised by balls hitting the ends of them. Do not snatch at the ball, let it come into your hands, and then, close them, and at the same time let them give a little. Always use both hands whenever possible, and practise taking balls on the leg side, which are the hardest for a wicket-keeper to gather. In a case of stumping do not in your eagerness take the ball from in front of the stumps, as this is contrary' to the laws. FUN IN THE WATER. Sometimes you see girls and boys tumble over in the w'ater and splash and splutter and shout because they cannot stand up again quickly. When you are in the water, you see, you are rather like a cork, and it is quite hard for you not to float. And if your feet want to float too, it is not easy to put them down on the bottom. But you must learn to be able to jump up just when you want to—and I’m sure you will like learning. All you have to do is to fall over backwards, or forwards, in the water and then jump up quickly! This is the way to do it: Draw your feet up under you, and put just one down on the bottom, like making a step forward. As your foot goes down hit against the water with both hands —and you will be able to jump up. When you fall over backwards it will be a little harder than when vou fall forwards. But don’t be afra'id—you can always regain a standing position by using one foot first, and both hands.. MA CONFUSED. One of the guests, in a jocular manner, asked Tommy, the son of the hostess,- where turkeys came from. “ Dunno,” he answered; “but I can tell you where this one came from,” pointing to the one on the tabTe “Ma got it from a tramp for Is 6d ’cause the man said he stole it. Didn’t he,

A LETTER FROM INDIA. Dear Aunt Hilda, —Kindly get me a pen-friend from New Zealand. I would like a girl, sixteen or seventeen years of age, who can play the piano or violin. Winter is just setting in; it is rather late this year. We all love winter because we can play games without getting drenching wet with perspiration. This term we play hockey, basketball and badminton. Our annual sports were on the Ist inst. They started at 4 p.m. and ended at 6.30 p.m. We had our singing and music exams, on the 30th inst. The senior singers got distinctions, middle honours, and the juniors passed. Two girls did a music exam (I was one), and we both got distinction. I was one grade higher than the other girl, and I got one mark more than her. I think I must say something about myself. I am fifteen years and four months of age, and in the Bth Standard. lam taking up the matriculation exam in March, 1932. I am learning music (piano), and have taken up three ' examinations, in which I have had great success. I was learning the banjo during my Poojah holidays, but had to stop when the term began. I have a great desire to learn the violin, but cannot do so just now. I will now close my letter, hoping to hear from you soon.—l remain, yours sincerely, Irene Kent. P.S. —Will girls please write as requested?—A.H.

BE TOPICAL. Pick up your pen—by all means Your thoughts may run in wild 4 streams— So write, yes write your dear dreams But hear young scribe! Be topical “ The Circle ” craves for writings new, Something magic, something true, But all you really have to do Young Scribes, is just—be topical ! Aunt Hilda! Oh she will be pleased, With old stale stuff she won’t be teased And think her mind, how ’twill be eased— If you young scribes be topical! (Original.) Gladys Levy.

SANDY ANDY. , Sandy Andy was a very jolly little boy who always had a happy smile on his round face, and who always wore a big, striped cap. He thought the world a perfectly wonderful place to live in, and there were such heaps of things to do that he hardly ever had time to be cross and bad-tempered. He had a pig—but it was no ordinary pig. Oh, dear, no! It was truly a most remarkable pig, and Sandy Andy called it William P. Grunt! I never could find out what the “P” stood for, but Sandy Andy said it was a very nice name, and that was that! One morning Sandy Andy came down the crooked stairs which led from his bedroom, and popped his face round the kitchen door, where his mother was cooking the breakfast. “ Morning! ” he called out. “Have you washed your face, combed your hair, brushed your teeth and done your shoe-laces up?” asked Mother all in one breath! “ Yes,” said Sandy Andv. “Then come and sit down”; and Mother put a big plate of porridge on the table for him. When he had finished, she said:— “Will you go into the town to get some shopping for me?” “Sure!” said Sandy Andy. When he’d got the orders he put William P. Grunt in his box on wheels, and off they started. They hadn’t gone far when they met a man, who said:— “That’s a nice pig you’ve got there.” “ Yes,” answered Sandy Andy. “What would you like for it? A stick of toffee?” “Is it nice sticky toffee?” “ Rather,” said the man. “All right. You can have the pig, but you’ll have to make him follow you.” So he took the toffee and, taking the box on wheels, he went on sucking hard at the sticky toffee. He hadn’t gone much farther when he heard the man’s voice again:— “ Look here! This pig won’t follow me! ” “I didn’t think it would,” said Sandy Andy! “ Well, you can have it back.” “ Thanks.” “Where’s my toffee?” “You can’t have that back! I’ve eaten it! ” “Bother you,” said the man, and walked off. And Sandy Andy said to his pig: “I knew you’d come back to me, William P. Grunt, so that’s why I let you go! You see, I did want a piece of sticky toffee! ” William P. Grunt gave a happy snort, and on they went into tbe town. Tourist: “ I hear you have a remarkable echo here.” Native: “Yes, sir, very remarkable. The people shout when they go to bed, and the echo •wakes them in the morning.” :I®®®®®®ll]!l!®®®®®E®ll]®®3