"I hope you are under no delusion as to my powers, Mr. Sapsworth. I never was a first-rate cricketer, and, as I have already told you, it is more than fifteen years since I handled a bat." "If you'll excuse my saying so, sir, I've generally noticed that them who doesn't say much does a deal." That was one way of looking at it, no doubt; but if I did a deal, I could only say that it would be a pleasant surprise to me. "And our opponents--what sort of a team are they?" Mr. Sapsworth turned up his nose--not metaphorically, but as a matter of fact. "If we're bad," he said, "they're wuss. There's only one thing I've ever seen those Latchmere blokes much good at, and that is cheating. You'll have to keep a sharp eye on them, or they'll have all our chaps out when they ain't; and they won't go out themselves, not even when you've bowled their three stumps down all of a row." "Surely," I suggested, "those sort of questions are for the umpires to decide." "Umpires!" Up went Mr. Sapworth's nose again. "They bring their own umpire, and he's got his own ideas of umpiring, he has. But we've got our own umpire as well as them." I said nothing; but Mr. Sapsworth's words conveyed to my mind pleasant impressions of the strict rigour of the game. When we arrived there was a goodly gathering already assembled in Mr. Stubbs's field. A tent was erected; in and about it was a nondescript collection of men and boys; some forty or fifty others, availing themselves of the opportunity afforded them for a little practice, were actually disporting themselves on the pitch on which we were presently to play. I consoled myself with the reflection that the worse the ground was the more _my_ bowling would tell. Mr. Sapworth introduced me to the crowd _en masse_. Several persons touched their caps to me; others nodded their heads; some grinned. "Good-morning, gentlemen. We're going to have a fine day for our match. Our team all here?" Mr. Sapworth took upon himself to answer; he had been searching about him with his eyes. "They're here all right. I suppose those Latchmere chaps ain't come yet?" They had not come, and they did not come for an hour or more. I employed the interval in becoming acquainted with the individual members, arranging the order of going in, and their positions in the field; matters in appearance simple enough, but more difficult in practice. But at last the preliminaries were settled somehow, and the Latchmere men appeared upon the ground. Their captain, coming up, was introduced to me. I was informed afterwards that he was a blacksmith. I thought he was by the way in which he grasped my hand. His opening speech was a little surprising. "We ain't going to play you if you've got eleven men, you know." I inquired into his meaning. "We've only got ten," he said. "And one of them's Soft Sawney, and another's Sprouts."