"Look here; you've tried 'em with people who can bowl, and they've made two hundred and twenty in an hour and a half; somebody who can't bowl will be a little change for them. That's one reason. The second is that we shall all have a bit of a rest while I'm taking my things off. The third is that I bet Myra a shilling----" Archie knelt down, and began to unbuckle my pads. "I'll 'keep' myself," he said. "Are you fast or slow?" "I haven't the faintest idea. Just as it occurs to me at the moment, I expect." "Well, you're quite right; you can't be worse than some of us. Will you have a few balls down first?" "No, thanks; I should like to come as a surprise to them." "Well, pitch 'em up anyhow." "I shall probably vary my length--if possible without any alteration of action." I am now approaching the incredible. The gentle reader, however, must not be nasty about it; he should at least pretend to believe, and his best way of doing this is to listen very silently to what follows. When he has heard my explanation I shall assume that he understands. Bowling is entirely a question of when you let go of the ball. If you let go too soon the result is a wide over the batsman's head; if too late, a nasty crack on your own foot. Obviously there are spaces in between. By the law of averages one must let go at the right moment at least once. Why not then at the first ball? And in the case of a person like myself, who has a very high action and a good mouth--I mean who has a very high delivery, such a ball (after a week of Simpsons and Archies) would be almost unplayable. Very well then; I did let go at the right moment, but, unfortunately, I took off from the wrong crease. The umpire's cry of "No-ball" and the shattering of the Quidnunc's wicket occurred simultaneously. "Good ball," said Archie. "Oh, bad luck!" I tried to look as though, on the whole, I preferred it that way--as being ultimately more likely to inspire terror in the batsman at my end. Certainly, it gave me confidence; made me over-confident in fact, so that I held on to the next ball much too long, and it started bouncing almost at once. The Quidnunc, who was convinced by this that he had been merely having a go at the previous ball, shouldered his bat and sneered at it. He was still sneering when it came in very quickly, and took the bottom of the leg stump. (Finger spin, chiefly.) Archie walked up slowly, and gazed at me. "Well?" I said jauntily. "No, don't speak. I just want to look, and look, and look. It's wonderful. No elastic up the sleeve, or anything." "This is where it first pitched," said the Major, as he examined the ground. "Did you think of letting in a brass tablet?" I inquired shortly. "He is quite a young man," went on Archie dreamily, "and does not care to speak about his plans for the future. But he is of opinion that----" "Break, break, break," said Simpson. "Three altogether."