So, riding roughshod over rules, This long-legged Darling has her will; And when she's twenty, I expect She will do still. ADVICE GRATIS If lightning-like you send her down, And yet the batsman scores With here a One and there a Two, And then a brace of Fours; If calmly confident he stands, And makes the leather fly Past all your slips to dash against The boundary palings, why-- Toss him down a slow, you see, He's sure to have a go, you see; And ten to one the trick is done By just a bit of brains, you see! If round the wicket, medium pace, Won't make the batsman budge, Take special note of what he likes, And all his weakness judge. Suppose he does the leg-glance well, Or drives her hot and high, Or runs to smother each good ball And pulls the short ones, why-- Sling him in a grub, you see, A ripping, wicked grub, you see; And ten to one the trick is done By just a pinch of wit, you see! But if with equal craft he meets Your wiles, and does not blench; If ev'ry bowler in your team Desires the restful bench, And there he stands, the unsubdued, With dauntless front and eye, Prepared to smack your choicest balls To realms unheard-of, why-- Don't ask my advice, you see, No, not at any price, you see; But ten to one the trick were done If I were in your team, you see! QUINQUAGINTA ANNOS NATUS Old Bag and Bat, no more together We take the train to Barnes or Tooting; No more I'll gallop for the leather, Nor grumble when the ball keeps shooting: I've fetched her many a handsome clout At Rugby, Nottingham, and Dover; So far Old Time has said 'Not out!' But one day he will change to 'Over!' God bless the grilling days of Cricket! They're gone, but I shall bless them ever, For good it is to guard a wicket By sudden wrist and big endeavour. Don't think I was a lazy lout Who never worked for days of clover; I earned my games. Time cries 'Not out!' But one day he will change to 'Over!' Well, I can stand behind the netting And watch the 'Coach' so keen and trusty, Who likes to see the youngsters hitting, And teaches them to let out lusty! I've had my innings, not a doubt, And stopped a crack or so at Cover; I shall not funk when Time says 'Out!' And all my watching days are over. STAR-GAZING Astronomers, working like niggers, Neck-deep in morasses of figures, From Cricketing vainly would wean us With diagrams, even of Venus. We rather would watch a good bowler Than Bears, be they little or Polar; And bar, though of masculine genus, Wise talk on the Transit of Venus.