on this occasion the far-famed claret of our host, dexterously administered by the opposing team, had considerable effect. He was earnestly solicited to give his opinion on every vintage we could find, and the spoon might have stood up in the whiskey dashed with soda which was mixed for his nightcap. On the morrow, when he was out before he ran into double figures, we decided that Bacchus was the best bowler on our side.
The next story is not a country-house cricket story at all, but as it is new in print, it may be allowed to slip in. It happened when I was captain of Oxford, and I think the match was against the Australians. Those who merely study cricket scores may not be aware that Warner has a high opinion of his own persuasiveness as a change bowler. His actual figures for life up to 1902, in first-class cricket, drawn from Mr. Home Gordon's Cricket Form at a Glance, are only three wickets for 196 runs, which only shows how bad is the judgment of modern captains. If he had been permitted the persistency of K. S. Ranjitsinhji, he would probably have captured more wickets. Last season, when he was captain, he failed to disturb the bails to the tune of 51 runs, which proves his modesty. I have known captains go on to bowl first and stay on through the whole innings, but of such certainly is not my old friend. However, in the match in question, when our opponents wanted about six runs to win, and I don't know how many wickets to fall, I chucked the ball to "Plum." "Ridley and Cobden won't be in it,"
