(_In a Pluvial Autumn._)
Rain, rain, go away,
Come again before next May!
The driving shower and chilling raw gust
Are most inopportune in August.
Rain has a chance to reign, remember,
Till early summer from September.
Why come and spoil cricket's last pages,
Our wickets--and our averages?
* * * * *
[Illustration: LORD'S IN DANGER. THE M. C. C. GO OUT TO MEET THE ENEMY
["Sir Edward Watkin proposes to construct a railway passing through
Lord's Cricket Ground."]
]
* * * * *
[Illustration: OUR OPENING MATCH.--"I say, Bill, you've got that pad on
the wrong leg." "Yus, I know. I thought as I were goin' in t' other
end!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: "CRICKETING INTELLIGENCE."--_Sporting Old Parson_ (_to
professional player_). "why is a ball like that called a 'yorker,' sir?"
_Professional Player._ "a 'yorker,' sir? oh, when the ball's pitched
right up to the block----" _Sporting Parson._ "yes, yes--I didn't ask
you what a 'yorker' was"--(_with dignity_)--"I know that as well as you
do. But why is it called a 'yorker'?" _Professional Player._ "Well, I
can't say, sir. I don't know what else you could call it!"]
* * * * *