And of all games, what could be so wonderful a
recreation as cricket, with its charm, its grace, the beauty of the great green lawns it is played on, and the almost mystic fascination of its mighty tradition? August is the nadir of cricket, and last week. end was the nadir of this August, for while, in Regent's Park, the Hobbses of to-morrow were feeling, for the first time, the ting. ling thrill of a straight-driven ball, the Hobbses, the Sutcliffes, the Fenders, the WiLsons and the other giants of to-day were meeting in the season's greatest battle at the Oval before 25,000 of their admirers. Let those who have never felt a bat in their hands, nor watched the bails jump from their own "fast one," cry out "professionalism," but let those who play the great game themselves, if more humbly, go and watch the masters and be inspired to new efforts, new conquests of the willing spirit over the sluggish flesh, by the wonder of their skill.
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