_A Song of the Cricket Championship._
[Illustration: Em met. (Yorks.)]
THE GRACES are hers, but the Parcae have tost her
Of late, so the Championship won't go to Gloucester;
Despite brave Lord HARRIS, and efforts well-meant,
That honour won't fall to the bold Men of Kent.
'Twould have charmed not a few of the "better for wus" sex,
Had luck smiled (not she!) on their sweethearts of Sussex;
And, though it is famed as the pluck and hard-work shire,
The top of the tree is not reached yet by Yorkshire.
Dame Fortune, that Sphinx of the riddle-cum-diddle sex,
Crowns not with success the crack Batsmen of Middlesex.
Spite of SHREWSBURY, GUNN, and such cricketing pots,
Her Song for this season is "_No, not for Notts!_"
And, although "runner-up" (if like greyhounds one rank a shire)
She's _just_ missed first place, has stout HORNBY-led Lancashire.
Thanks--in chief--to young LOHMANN, whom fate cannot flurry,
The Championship once more comes South. Bravo, Surrey!
[Illustration: Pilling. (Lancs.)]
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OMINOUS.--Lord R. CHURCHILL is to address a meeting of Unionists at
Sunderland. Hardly strikes one as quite a suitable spot for that
purpose, _Sunderland_ being rather suggestive of the Separatist policy
that Lord RANDOLPH and his friends are so strongly opposed to. The Home
Rulers would have chosen Cumberland as more appropriate.
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[Illustration: Pleasure Parties.]
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