What a game it is, Oxford _v._ Cambridge, unrivalled for its sporting keenness, and if it has proved a triumph to many, it has also been a game of cruel disappointment in those who have been expected to do best. The importance of the match to the funds of M.C.C. can be gathered from the annual balance-sheet of the club, and considering the difficulty of affording sufficient money for professionals and other expenses at the Universities, it may be open to the consideration of the committee if it would not be judicious were the premier club to increase the amount of the annual donation to the rival centres of education, whose delegates provide such an immense share of the club revenue. If the University match were to be removed from Lord’s—_absit omen_—it is obvious that the club in St. John’s Wood would suffer far more than either Oxford or Cambridge. Such an exodus is not probable, but the old order changes, and it would be wise as well as generous if the committee could give more lavishly where it receives so bountifully. A survey of all the University matches seems to authorise two deductions: Firstly, that, all else being equal, it is better to choose for places in University teams men who have already played before a crowd, because nervousness is so apt to overtake the novice when participating in this fixture. Secondly, that the presence of a formidable fast bowler is the best agency for victory. Matches, as a rule, have gone to the team which backed up a destructive attack with competent fielding, and there seems no reason why in this respect history should not repeat itself. We may be permitted to conclude with an expression of the sincere hope that University cricket may maintain its high position, and that the big match will remain something in which all the Empire shall continue to take legitimate pride and interest, because it is the contest between the best of England’s youth fought in true sporting fashion. [Illustration] CHAPTER XI COUNTRY-HOUSE CRICKET By H. D. G. LEVESON-GOWER I have not the least idea where my genial editor is going to put the present chapter in this book, but I am willing to wager that it will prove the lightest and most frivolous in his team. In the literary menu I sincerely hope some one will find it the savoury of the meal, because personally I like savouries best, and naturally I prefer my own chapter to any other—parenthetically, I have not seen any of the rest, except the one which I had a share in writing. No one has perhaps played more country-house cricket than I have, and certainly no one has derived more enjoyment from the matches. So I can write with agreeable memories. But as the games are the least formal in the whole range of cricket, therefore I feel this chapter needs no apology for being a trifle desultory. We are now taking our ease after dinner, and chatting in quite a happy-go-lucky way.