My first experience of Peel was at Cambridge. As usual, and rightly too, my place was number eleven on the list. There was six minutes to time, and the good MacGregor told me to buck up and go in. So into the dark I went, and, backed by the luck that sometimes falls to most undeserving persons, I stayed through an over and a half of Robert—not out 0 at night, and my last game for the ‘Varsity! On the morrow, on not a very easy wicket, my marvellous luck remained with me, and stayed with me even until lunch! 41! It must have been a dreary show. I only instance this to once again emphasise the old old truism of what a game of chance this cricket is. Here was I playing in my last match, playing as a bowler, but, as the vulgar say, “couldn’t bowl for toffee,” or any other desirable sweetmeat. Here was I, number eleven, and by a kindly turn of fortune’s wheel allowed to stop Bobby Peel for two hours and a half. Well, that six minutes in the dusk gave me ten years’ cricket, so _I_ have nothing to grumble at in the luck of the game! As every one knows, Yorkshire owe much of their great success to the efforts of these two. Always to be relied upon—always ready to bowl either end for two or twenty overs at a stretch: bowlers that a captain can put on for an over, and knowing that neither of them will throw away a couple of fours trying to find their length. Should we compare the actions of the two, we must award the palm for style and easy rhythmic swing to Peel. To Rhodes we must allow the greater amount of spin. Wilfred, as his intimates designate him, for some years had a bad time when he journeyed with his friends to the Oval, for he nearly always struck a fast wicket, and very few bowlers are affected to the same extent as he is by the varying conditions of the ground. On the Oval we have generally managed to score against him, provided it is fine; but give him a little rain, and he gets his own and a bit more back. I remember, three years ago, at Kennington, Yorkshire and Surrey both made over 300. On the third day of the match there had been rain, and a blistering sun was doing its best to give the spectators their money’s worth in the afternoon. In this it succeeded. Yorkshire held a lead of about 25. “Another drawn match, I suppose,” was heard on every side; but the members and their friends don’t quite realise the enormous difference of Rhodes, and of Rhodes and Haigh coupled, on a dry and on a sticky wicket.