When Stoddart makes her hum Up at _Lords_, And my country cousins come Up at _Lords_ With their looks as sweet as honey, And their exclamations funny, I am prodigal of money Up at _Lords_! When Stoddart makes her hum Up at _Lords_, And the Surrey Skipper's glum Up at _Lords_, Oh! all my odds are even, And (I hope to be forgiven) 'Tis a truly Cricket Heaven Up at _Lords_! OUT O very potent little word, 'Out!' How often have we sadly heard 'Out!' When stupid umpires surely sin, Just as to settle we begin, And say, in place of saying 'in,' 'Out!' Though I am Captain of the team, 'Out!' Though I in doubt may gravely seem, 'Out!' Though I have barely scored a run My average goes down with one, And other Bats must have the fun-- 'Out!' I see Jones laugh behind his hand-- Out! Next match, by Jove, the brute shall stand Out! Our cousin, Lydia Lake, is here, And in her eyes I would appear A Swell; _hinc illae_--Jones's sneer-- Out! Ah! lucky Jones begins to hit Out! Another four! I wish he'd get Out! I see him look where Lydia sits To note if she applauds his hits-- She does! She'll burst her gloves to bits!-- Out! Yet why should I be Jones's butt, Out? I have a plan that chap to cut Out! What boots it thus to mope, my soul? I go to sit by Lydia. Scowl, O Jones, for you, methinks, I bowl Out! LAY ON One wicket to fall and a round fifty runs Waited for still: As well to imagine that twice twenty tuns Go to a jill! O Jones, be contained if you worship your school, Block her and snick; But punch her to leg if she's handy; keep cool; Lay it on thick! She comes up full pitch now and then, so look out; Dust her along! And go like a hare if you notice me shout-- Wait for the song! Tom Emmett will chaff ev'ry chap in the team-- Jolly old Brick!-- If we funk like young misses of sugar and cream; Lay it on thick! Go big at those lobs like a lusty old Jones, Give it 'em hot! They break; get in front with your bundle of bones, Leg is the spot! Take guard. Oh, well banged! There's a four to begin, See, they are sick! Another! Another! we're going to win-- Lay it on thick! RUB IT IN It's all very well For Reginald Dibbs, Who hasn't been hit By a ball in the ribs And one on the shin To shout, 'Rub it in!'