I hoped that the subject was really closed this time. Of course, I knew that kind friends and relations would ask me on the morrow how many I had made, but for that day I wanted no more of it. Yet, as it happened, I reopened the subject myself. For with five minutes to play their ninth wicket fell. Mid-off sauntered over towards me. "Just as well we didn't stay in any longer." "That's _just_ what I thought," I said triumphantly, "all along." AN AVERAGE MAN Of Tomkins as a natural cricketer It frequently has been remarked--that IF He'd had more opportunities of bowling, And rather more encouragement in batting, And IF his averages, so disclosed, Batting and bowling, had been interchanged; And IF the field as usually set Contained some post (at the pavilion end) Whose presence rather than a pair of hands Was called for; then, before the season finished, Tomkins would certainly have played for Kent. All this, however, is beside the mark. Just now I wish to hymn the glorious day (Ignored by those who write the almanacs, Unnoticed by the calendar compilers), That Wednesday afternoon, twelve months ago When Tomkins raised his average to two. Thanks to an interval of accidents (As "Tomkins did not bat"--and "not out 0," But this more rarely) Tomkins' average Had long remained at 1.3. (Though Tomkins, sacrificing truth to pride, Or both to euphony, left out the dot-- Left out the little dot upon the three, Only employing it to justify A second three to follow on the first. Thus, if a stranger asked his average Tomkins would answer "One point thirty-three"-- Nor lay the stress unduly on the "one" ...). A curious thing is custom! There are men-- Plum Warner is, of course, a case in point-- Who cannot bat unless they go in first. Others, as Hayes and Denton, have their place First wicket down; while Number Six or so Is suited best to Jessop. As for Tomkins His place was always one above the Byes, And three above the Wides. So Custom willed. Upon this famous Wednesday afternoon Wickets had fallen fast before the onslaught Of one who had, as Euclid might have put it, No length, or break, but only pace; and pace Had been too much for nine of them already. Then entered Tomkins the invincible. Took guard as usual, "just outside the leg," Looked round the field, and mentally decided To die--or raise his average to two. Whereon--for now the bowler was approaching, He struck a scientific attitude, Advanced the left leg firmly down the pitch, And swung his bat along the line AB (See Ranjitsinhji's famous book of cricket).