(原版)澳大利亞語文第四冊(cè) LESSON 37

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LESSON 37 “WELL BOWLED”

“WELL BOWLED”

EVERY one had gone out to watch the cricket match between Ruddingham School and Atter field.

The veteran [1] captain A. B. Lyons seemed to be disturbed in his mind as he stood talking to Walters and two other members of the school eleven.

“It’s not fair their bringing Ritson,” the Ruddingham captain was saying. “He has played for the county, and has nothing to do with the Atterfield Club. They won’t allow us to play masters, and then they come with a man like that, who has no more business in their team than he would have in ours.”

“I should object,” said Waiters.

“Oh, so I have,” answered Lyons. “But their captain says it’s only a friendly game, and all that sort of thing; and since he has brought Ritson, he doesn’t want to tell him not to play. Of course, if it were a Cup match it would be a different matter; but you don’t like to object and be unfriendly, especially when they are on our ground.”

“I call it a shame,” said Chadley, who was one of the group. “If they lick us, they’ll take care not to call attention in the report to the fact that Ritson played in their team.”

“Well, it can’t be helped,” answered the captain; “better play and not make a fuss. Come on; they are going out to field.— Walters, you and I are in first.”

From the very beginning of the game the day seemed likely to prove unlucky for the home team. The second ball of the over passed with a smack into the wicket-keeper’s glove.

“How’s that? ” he shouted. For an instant all the field remained hushed and motionless; then, to the dismay of the spectators, “A.B.” was seen walking away from the wicket.

“Oh, they’ve given him out!” shrieked one small boy.

“It was off his glove!” exclaimed a second.

“It wasn’t!” cried a third. “He never touched it. It’s a jolly swindle.”

The umpire, however, had given his decision, and Lyons walked slowly back to the pavilion, trying to look as if he did not mind.

“It was all right,” he said frankly. “The wretched thing got up and just tipped the shoulder of my bat.”

Ten minutes later Walters’s off stump went down with a click, and a fresh shout of dismay burst from the small boys under the trees.”

“It’s a shame their putting Ritson on to bowl! What business has he got playing for Atterfield? Never mind, Samuels will make a few runs; he can always play fast bowling.”

But even Samuels failed to do what was expected of him. He made a few good hits, just enough to revive the hopes of his side; then, owing to a mistaken call from his partner, he was run out, with only the matter of a dozen to his credit. The smaller boys groaned aloud. It was not that Ruddingham lacked sufficient spirit to take a licking, but there was a strong feeling that the visitors had not acted fairly in getting Ritson to play in their team—more especially as the county man was taking all the wickets.

When any good hit was made, or an extra run secured with good backing up, the boys yelled and cheered. Cheer as they might, however, the total on the telegraph board [2] rose with provoking slowness from 20 to 30, and 30 to 40, and there it stuck, while Ritson dispatched [3] two fresh men in one over.

Atterfield began to treat the matter rather as a joke. During a pause the wicket-keeper,short-slip, and point grew quite frisky, exchanging tricky catches, while long-on stood on his head; all of which, trifling as it may seem to the reader, proved somehow very galling [4] to the onlookers, and rankled in their breasts as though it had been a studied insult.

The fun was not to be altogether on one side, however, and before the innings closed Ruddingham had occasion to exercise its lungs in cheers not unmixed with laughter. The cause of this was a wonderful stand made at the last between Lambert and Ormond—the former being well known as a “stone-waller,” and the other as a confirmed slogger.

THE CRICKET MATCH

The partnership was a great success. Lambert blocked, while Ormond did the hitting—lashing out with equal freedom at balls straight and crooked. Every few minutes he had a hairbreadth escape, but with good for tune he managed to keep his stumps tanding, and to pile on the score.

A display of this kind, which has no real skill behind it, seldom lasts very long. Ritson suddenly bowled a most enticing [5] ball, and the next instant it flew skywards, descending with a graceful curve plump into a fielder’s hands.

“All out!” and only 58 for a grand total.

The Atterfield men spoke of catching an earlier train, and Ritson was named to go in first wicket down, it being understood that he would push on with the scoring, and soon bring it up to the required total. The crowd felt little interest in the finish of the game, having already as good as given it up; but fortunately the school team itself was composed of veterans, who were fully prepared to show fight till the last ball had been delivered.

Chadley had been appointed, as usual, to bowl from one end; and though, for various reasons, he was not so popular as he might have been, yet on a match day every one regarded him as a tower of strength. Calm and collected [6] , he was never known to lose his head [7] —the expression of his face never changing whether he took the middle stump or was slogged to the boundary.

He had just commenced his second over, when a sharp catch in the slips disposed of the first batsman on the visitors’ side. Ruddingham sent up a cheer, but a moment later relapsed into silence as the terrible Ritson left the pavilion and walked briskly towards the pitch.

“Bother him!” cried Barnes Minor. “I know he’ll make a hundred.”

It took him at least three minutes to get settled, patting down the turf, and then looking round at the position of the fielders. At length he settled down into an attitude which in itself was enough to shake the confidence of any bowler.

All this time Chadley stood waiting, tossing the ball idly from hand to hand. He seemed to be thinking of nothing in particular, but his brain had really never been more active. He hated Ritson for his display of “side,” and thirsted for his wicket.

The first ball seemed to rather astonish the crack player.

“H’m! not a bad ball!” he remarked, in a lofty manner.

Chadley heard the remark; his blood boiled, and he nerved himself for a still greater effort. The crowd were looking for a boundary hit; what they did see was a glitter of bails twirling in the sunshine, and then there arose on all sides of the field one frantic shout, “Bowled—well bowled!”

It was true. Ritson stood for a moment looking rather astonished; then quickly recovering his presence of mind, he gave a short laugh, and ran back to the pavilion, trying to hide his disappointment as best he could.

“Well played, Chadley! well bowled, sir!” shouted the spectators, nearly wild with delight. “Bravo, Chadley!”

Ritson’s dismissal seemed to put fresh life and hope into the school team, while it acted in an exactly opposite manner on the enemy. Wicket after wicket went for next to nothing; the captain was caught; two other men were run out; and when the innings closed, the school were the victors by a majority of eleven runs.

Chadley had never bowled better in his life, and his comrades encouraged him with hearty applause. As he returned to the pavilion he was greeted with hearty cheers, while even Barnes Minor ventured to smack him on the back—a daring act, which on any other occasion might have been followed by serious consequences.

Chadley did not in the least object to such an ovation [8] ; it was his great aim not only to be an out-and-out sportsman, but also to rank as one in the opinion of his friends.

From Heads or Tails, by HAROLD AVERY

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[1] veteran: Old; with long experience.

[2] telegraph board: A large board on which the names of the batsmen and bowlers and the score are marked as the game proceeds.

[3] dispatched: Dismissed; put out.

[4] galling: Vexing; annoying.

[5] enticing: Tempting.

[6] collected: Cool; self-possessed.

[7] lose his head: Get very nervous; lose his coolness.

[8] ovation: Great cheering.