Outside the high walls it was more like a fair than anything else. Itinerant4 vendors5 of a variety of eatables did a good trade, and evaded6 the attentions of the police with remarkable7 skill. No sooner did the man in blue move a coster on than he ‘bobbed up serenely’ in a different place. Portraits of the cricketers were hawked8 about, though the celebrities9 depicted10 would have had some difficulty in recognising their own faces. The excitement over the match was tremendous. The bus-drivers discussed the chances of success with the passengers nearest to them, and many of the cabmen wore the English colours on their whips. Morning editions of the evening papers met with a ready sale, and every scrap11 of news anent the great match was pounced12 upon with avidity.
Before noon a few drops of rain fell, and with the gathering13 clouds the faces of the people became sombre, and their looks gloomy. A heavy shower would make a good deal of difference, and none knew it better than the members of the teams.
Robert Foster stood inside the pavilion, with his son and Will Murch, anxiously scanning the clouds for a sign of a break. They had not long to wait. The blue sky became visible, and the sun chased the dulness away and shed its brilliant rays on the scene.
And what a sight it was as they looked from the pavilion over the ground! A dense mass of people lined the enclosure, and even pressed over the boundary line in some parts of the ground. To the left of the pavilion the enclosure was gay with the costumes of the ladies, and they seemed as eager for the game to commence as any of the male sex.
Doris Foster accompanied Muriel Wylde and her mother, and they were escorted by Will Brown and Ben Brody, who felt slightly uncomfortable in a hard hat and a pair of gloves—not to mention a new suit, made by a fashionable tailor. They occupied seats in the first enclosure, and had an excellent view of the ground.
The mere14 mention of Lord’s conjures15 up wonderful feats16 in the cricket field, and recalls memories of men who played on its green sward. A glance round the pavilion shows the members have not been unmindful of their doughty17 champions of the game. It gives the history of cricket, its rise and progress, in a pictorial18 form, to look at the various prints, paintings, and engravings hanging on the walls. The ‘tall hat’ period is well represented, and young cricketers may well be forgiven for smiling at the costumes of the men who made the game what it is. The smile, however, was not at the men—there was nothing but praise for them. Old stagers waxed eloquent19 over the doings of the cricketers of their younger days. They vowed20 there were as good men then as now, although they had to confess the game had improved—and consequently the players also.
A gray-headed veteran came up to Robert Foster and said:
‘We had big crowds in our day, but nothing like this,’ and he waved his hand in a comprehensive sweep round the circle of faces.
Edgar was introduced to the veteran, who said:
‘I remember the first time I saw your father play. He was about your age then, and he was a bat. I’ll never forget it. It was on this very ground—Surrey against Middlesex. He won the match, my boy. I’d[235] sooner you were for us than against us to-day, if you can play as well as your father did then.’
‘I recollect21 that match,’ said Robert; ‘but you give me too much credit when you say I won it for the team.’
‘Not a bit of it,’ replied the veteran. ‘Ask any man who saw it, and I’ll guarantee he tells the same story. Is it not recorded in the annals of cricket?’
‘We’ve lost the toss,’ said Edgar. ‘The usual luck at Lord’s.’
‘I expect they will bat,’ said Robert Foster.
‘I doubt it,’ said Edgar. ‘The ground is a bit tricky22 and in favour of the bowlers23. Grace has gone to have a good look at the wicket. He knows there are no chances to be thrown away.’
The tall figure of the English captain, with his black, bushy beard, stood out boldly against the background of people. It was in the days when Grace was at his best, and Dr. E. M. was another of the valiant24 brothers who took the field; Shaw and Morley, the famous Notts bowlers, were in their prime, and Daft had not yet retired25 from the field—when such grand men as A. P. Lucas, A. G. Steel, A. Lyttelton and Lord Harris were seen at nearly every big match. It was an anxious moment for everyone as Grace consulted with two of his team as to whether they should bat.
‘The pitch is all right, or Grace would not have gone in,’ said Robert Foster.
‘Perhaps he thinks it will wear all right for their innings, and leave us with the ground cut up,’ said Murch.
People settled down in their places, and made themselves as comfortable as possible. As the Australians filed on the ground, headed by Murch, cheer after cheer was given them—for the ‘Kangaroo boys’ had become very popular.
The commencement of a great match is always fraught27 with intense excitement. How will the game go? Will there be a stand for the first wicket?
The brothers Grace, W. G. and E. M., came out to face the bowling28, and again the cheers broke out from all parts of the ground. Two good men and good bats were going to open the game for the honour of Old England against the attack of her young country’s sons.
The English captain went through the preliminaries usual with him. He calmly surveyed the field, noting with keen eyes how each man was placed. He took his block, and then patted the ground in a fatherly way with his bat, as though requesting the pitch to behave well to him. Then he put his bat under his arm and leisurely29 fastened his glove. Having put himself to rights, he was ready for the attack.
The battle had commenced, and it soon became lively. Both men were in form, and the Australians had plenty of leather-hunting. Boundary hits did not come quite so quickly as might have been expected, as the ball seemed to fall rather dead, and did not roll far. When an adjournment30 for luncheon31 was made, both Graces were still in, and the crowd was jubilant.
‘After luncheon will do it,’ he said. ‘There will be a separation then.’
It was, however, uphill work fighting against such a powerful batting team. Man after man came in and piled up a score, and the captain was not got rid of until he had placed one hundred and fifty-two to his credit. He had played a grand innings, and fully34 maintained his great reputation.
The Englishmen were not disposed of until they had piled up the large score of four hundred and two.
‘What do you think of it now?’ asked Robert Foster of Edgar.
‘It is a big score, but we may equal it,’ he replied.
‘I admire your pluck, but I hardly think you will do that,’ was the remark of a friend of Mr. Foster’s.
They did not do it. The Australians made an unfortunate start, for Murch, their great bat and popular captain, was caught before he had scored.
Edgar made a fair show, and put on thirty runs before he was bowled; but none of the team made a good stand, and the innings closed, for a hundred and fifty runs—two hundred and fifty-two behind their opponents. This was a terribly black outlook for the Australians, and everyone was disappointed at their display.
Muriel Wylde felt vexed35, and she knew Edgar would be much cut up about it. He came to see her, and tried to put the best face he could on the matter.
‘We must avoid a one innings defeat, anyhow,’ he said; ‘I cannot make it out at all. It is sheer bad luck, for the wicket was good. I think when Murch got out for a duck it made our fellows feel a bit nervous.’
‘You played well enough,’ said Brody.
‘No telling what may happen in cricket,’ said Edgar. ‘I have seen an even worse match than this pulled out of the fire.’
‘Then you have not lost hope?’ said Muriel.
‘By no means,’ said Edgar. ‘I have a presentiment37 we shall make a big score, and prove what we really can do.’
Robert Foster was proud of the display of the home eleven, but he could not help feeling a pang38 of regret that the Australians had not made a better show.
Will Murch was determined39 to have his revenge for the catch that disposed of him, and said he felt like making a big score. He got his men together, and talked the matter over.
‘I’ll go in first again,’ he said, ‘with Bannman, and we must make a stand somehow. If we can make a big score the other side may be got out without getting the requisite40 runs, or they may not have time to get them, and we shall make a draw of it.’
Edgar Foster was to go in at the fall of the first wicket, and Murch was very anxious every man should do his level best.
‘They will be very down in the mouth about it at home,’ he said. ‘We can all imagine how they felt when they saw the poor stand we made; we’ll try and change the tune41 for them. Remember, lads, that every run tells. Run carefully, but run well, and then it is surprising how a few singles tot up and swell42 the total. Bat carefully until you are set, and when you feel safe don’t spare them. They have given us some leather-hunting, let us return the compliment.’
The cheery words of their captain put heart into the team, and it was with considerable confidence they saw Murch and Bannman walk to the wickets to commence the second innings.
Edgar went over to his father to watch the start, and his heart beat fast as he saw Murch prepare to take the first over.
‘This is better, much better,’ said Robert Foster, as Murch hit a couple of fours in his first over. ‘We can afford to be generous, and wish you all to do well this innings.’
Bannman played a cautious game, and left the bulk of the run-getting to his captain. After half an hour’s play there was a change of bowling. Will Murch treated the new-comer with scant43 ceremony.
To Edgar’s great delight the Australian captain hit the bowling all over the field. His powerful drives and clean cuts elicited44 well deserved applause, which was freely bestowed45.
‘If you go on at this rate,’ said Robert Foster, ‘it will put a very different complexion46 on the game. Your men always did play a good uphill fight.’
‘And will do so to-day,’ said Edgar. ‘By Jove! that was a narrow shave.’
Bannman made a miss-hit, and the ball went near to the fielder at point, but he just failed to hold it, although he touched it.
When the second day’s play ended, Murch and Bannman were not out, and the score stood at one hundred and thirty, of which number Will Murch had made eighty-four.
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1
thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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2
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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3
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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itinerant
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| adj.巡回的；流动的 | |
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vendors
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| n.摊贩( vendor的名词复数 )；小贩；（房屋等的）卖主；卖方 | |
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6
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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7
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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8
hawked
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| 通过叫卖主动兜售（hawk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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9
celebrities
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| n.（尤指娱乐界的）名人( celebrity的名词复数 )；名流；名声；名誉 | |
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10
depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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11
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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12
pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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13
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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14
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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conjures
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| 用魔术变出( conjure的第三人称单数 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
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16
feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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17
doughty
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| adj.勇猛的，坚强的 | |
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18
pictorial
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| adj.绘画的；图片的；n．画报 | |
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19
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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20
vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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tricky
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| adj.狡猾的，奸诈的；(工作等)棘手的，微妙的 | |
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23
bowlers
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| n.（板球）投球手( bowler的名词复数 )；圆顶高帽 | |
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24
valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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25
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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26
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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27
fraught
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| adj.充满…的，伴有(危险等)的；忧虑的 | |
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28
bowling
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| n.保龄球运动 | |
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29
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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30
adjournment
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| 休会； 延期； 休会期； 休庭期 | |
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31
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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32
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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33
stumps
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| （被砍下的树的）树桩( stump的名词复数 )； 残肢； （板球三柱门的）柱； 残余部分 | |
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34
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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35
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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36
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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37
presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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38
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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39
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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40
requisite
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| adj.需要的，必不可少的；n.必需品 | |
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41
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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42
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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43
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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44
elicited
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| 引出，探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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45
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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