"To be sure," said I. "We discussed cricket, and a number of reputations then well known, about which the public troubles itself no longer. Let us try their names upon The Infant here, and discover with how many of them he is acquainted." "We discussed," said Verinder, "the vulgarisation of cricket. You made me say some hard things about it, but be hanged to me if anything I prophesied then came near to _this_! Listen-- "'I suppose I may say that, after some luck at starting, I played a pretty good innings: but a total of 240 is poor enough for first knock on such a wicket as Hove, and, as things stand, the omens are against us. However, as I write this wire the clouds are gathering, and there's no denying that a downfall during the night may help our chances.'" "What on earth are you reading?" I asked. "Stay a moment. Here's another-- "'With Jones's wicket down, the opposition declared, somewhat to the annoyance of the crowd: and indeed, with Robinson set and playing the prettiest strokes all around the wicket, I must admit that they voiced a natural disappointment. They had paid their money, and, after the long period of stonewalling which preceded the tea interval, a crowded hour of glorious life would have been exhilarating, and perhaps was no more than their due. Dickson, however, took his barracking good-humouredly. Towards the end Jones had twice appealed against the light.'" "I suppose," said I, "that is how cricket strikes the Yellow Press. Who are the reporters?" "The reporters are the captains of two county teams--two first-class county teams; and they are writing of a match actually in progress at this moment. Observe A.'s fine sense of loyalty to a captain's duty in his published opinion that his side is in a bad way. Remark his chivalrous hope for a sodden wicket to-morrow." "It is pretty dirty," I agreed. Verinder snorted. "I once tried to kill a man at mid-on for wearing a pink shirt. But these fellows! They ought to wear yellow flannels." "What, by the way, is the tea interval?" I asked. "It is an interval," answered Verinder seriously, "in which the opposing captains adjourn to the post office and send telegrams about themselves and one another." "Excuse me," put in Sir John Crang, looking up from his _Times_ and addressing me, "but I quite agree with what you and your friend are saying. Interest in the Australian tour, for instance, I can understand; it promotes good feeling, and anything that draws closer the bonds of interest between ourselves and the colonies is an imperial asset." "Good Lord!" murmured Verinder.