A little knowledge is a dangerous thing to umpires as well as everyone else. A ball in a country match hit the batsman’s leg, skied up in the air, and was caught by point. ‘How’s that for leg before wicket?’ shouted the bowler. ‘How’s that for a catch?’ said point. The bewildered umpire had not an idea what it was, but no doubt he thought such loud appeals meant something, and so said, ‘Out.’ ‘What for?’ said the batsman; ‘it didn’t pitch anything like straight, wouldn’t have hit the wicket, and what’s more, never touched it.’ ‘Out,’ said the nonplussed umpire; ‘it hit _you below the wrist_.’ This story, although told of an ignorant umpire, illustrates a principle which the best umpires should have in mind, but which many of them seem never to have learnt, or else to have forgotten, and that is, never give your reasons for a decision. This is a golden rule for all umpires. An umpire is engaged to say ‘Out’ or ‘Not out’ when appealed to, and not to state the reasons which have induced his verdict. When a man adds to his decision, ‘It didn’t pitch straight,’ ‘Your toe was up in the air,’ ‘Your bat was over the crease but not on the ground,’ it has a tendency to create useless discussion and waste of time. Besides, an umpire may occasionally be right in his verdict, but may be brought to grief by explaining his reasons. For instance, suppose an appeal for a l.b.w., and the umpire says ‘Not out.’ The wicket-keeper and the bowler may know that the point for decision is whether the ball pitched straight or not; the umpire adds, for example, ‘The ball would have gone over the wicket.’ Well, this may be so, but both the wicket-keeper and the bowler think not; if the verdict had been a decided ‘Not out,’ both of these two would have been satisfied--a doubtful point had been given against them, no one was to blame for it, better luck next time, &c. &c. But since the umpire has been guilty of stating reasons, which, according to them, are not satisfactory, he has branded himself with a bad decision in the eyes of the fielding side. Some umpires--in fact, the majority of them--have a habit of putting their hand and arm in the air and pointing to the skies when they give a man out. A verdict propitious to the batsman is given by a solemn ‘Not out,’ but one adverse by an annoying silence and a most inappropriate wave of the arm in the air. It would be far more to the purpose if the finger were pointed downwards instead of upwards, as the batsman’s hopes are shattered. We never like to leave the wickets till the umpire’s voice is heard. The arm may go in the air involuntarily, or the umpire be surprised into a spasmodic upward arm-jerk; but a good honest ‘Out’ can never be doubted.