But it is time that we got on to my innings. Archie managed to win the toss, and, as he had promised, took me in with him. It was the proudest and most nervous moment of my life. "I've never been in first before," I said, as we walked to the wickets. "Is there any little etiquette to observe?" "Oh, rather. Especially, if you're going to take first ball." "Oh, there's no doubt about my taking the _first_ ball." "In that case the thing to remember is, that when the umpire calls 'play' the side refusing to play loses the match." "Then it all rests on me? Your confidence in me must be immense. I think I shall probably consent to play." I obtained guard and took my stand at the wicket. Most cricketers nowadays, I am told, adopt the "two-eyed stance," but for myself I still stick to the good old two-legged one. It seems to me to be less wearing. My style, I should observe, blends happily the dash of a Joseph Vine with the patience of a Kenneth Hutchings; and after a long innings I find a glass of---- I've forgotten the name of it now, but I know I find it very refreshing. Being the hero (you will admit that--after my hat trick) of this true story, I feel I must describe my innings carefully. Though it only totalled seventeen, there was this to be said for it: it is the only innings of less than a hundred ever made by a hero. It began with a cut to square leg, for which we ran a forced single, and followed on with a brace of ones in the direction of fine slip. After that, I stopped the bowler in the middle of his run-up, and signalled to a spectator to move away from the screen. This was a put-up job with Myra, and I rather hoped they would give me something for it, but apparently they didn't. At the end of the over, I went up and talked to Archie. In first-class cricket, the batsmen often do this, and it impresses the spectators immensely. I said, "I bet you a shilling I'm out next over." He said, "I won't take you." I said, "Then I huff you," and went back to my crease. My next scoring stroke was a two-eyed hook over point's head, and then Archie hit three fours running. I had another short conversation with him, in the course of which I recited two lines from Shakespeare and asked him a small but pointed conundrum, and afterwards I placed the ball cleverly to mid-off, the agility of the fieldsman, however, preventing any increment, unearned or otherwise. Finally, I gave my cap to the umpire, made some more ones, changed my bat, and was caught at the wicket. "I hit it," I said, as I walked away. I said it to nobody in particular, but the umpire refused to alter his decision. "I congratulate you," said Miss Blair, when I was sitting down again. "I was just going to do that to you," I said. "Oh, but you were kind enough to do that last night." "Ah, this is extra. I've just been batting out there with your young man. Perhaps you noticed?" "Well, I think I must have."