<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV. <br/><span class="cheaderfont">THE SCENE AT LORD’S.</span></SPAN></h2>
<p>An enormous crowd assembled on the famous
cricket-ground at Lord’s to witness the final battle
between England and Australia. The record attendance
was registered for the opening day of a match,
and it was with difficulty that the crowd could be
kept within bounds. It reminded old race-goers of
a Derby Day to see so many vehicles driving in the
direction of the ground. Although the sky was dull
and threatening, this did not damp the ardour of the
spectators. The members’ pavilion was thronged,
and also the reserved stands and enclosure. A dense
mass of people filled every available standing and
sitting place in the cheaper portion of the ground.
No sooner were the doors opened than a rush commenced
for the best seats, which were secured by
those who had been patiently waiting from an early
hour in the morning.</p>
<p>Outside the high walls it was more like a fair than
anything else. Itinerant vendors of a variety of
eatables did a good trade, and evaded the attentions
of the police with remarkable skill. No sooner did
the man in blue move a coster on than he ‘bobbed
up serenely’ in a different place. Portraits of the
cricketers were hawked about, though the celebrities
depicted would have had some difficulty in recognising<span class="pagenum">[233]</span>
their own faces. The excitement over the
match was tremendous. The bus-drivers discussed
the chances of success with the passengers nearest to
them, and many of the cabmen wore the English
colours on their whips. Morning editions of the
evening papers met with a ready sale, and every
scrap of news anent the great match was pounced
upon with avidity.</p>
<p>Before noon a few drops of rain fell, and with the
gathering clouds the faces of the people became
sombre, and their looks gloomy. A heavy shower
would make a good deal of difference, and none knew
it better than the members of the teams.</p>
<p>Robert Foster stood inside the pavilion, with his
son and Will Murch, anxiously scanning the clouds
for a sign of a break. They had not long to wait.
The blue sky became visible, and the sun chased the
dulness away and shed its brilliant rays on the scene.</p>
<p>And what a sight it was as they looked from the
pavilion over the ground! A dense mass of people
lined the enclosure, and even pressed over the boundary
line in some parts of the ground. To the
left of the pavilion the enclosure was gay with the
costumes of the ladies, and they seemed as eager
for the game to commence as any of the male
sex.</p>
<p>Doris Foster accompanied Muriel Wylde and her
mother, and they were escorted by Will Brown and
Ben Brody, who felt slightly uncomfortable in a hard
hat and a pair of gloves—not to mention a new suit,<span class="pagenum">[234]</span>
made by a fashionable tailor. They occupied seats
in the first enclosure, and had an excellent view of the
ground.</p>
<p>The mere mention of Lord’s conjures up wonderful
feats in the cricket field, and recalls memories of men
who played on its green sward. A glance round the
pavilion shows the members have not been unmindful
of their doughty champions of the game. It gives
the history of cricket, its rise and progress, in a
pictorial form, to look at the various prints, paintings,
and engravings hanging on the walls. The ‘tall hat’
period is well represented, and young cricketers may
well be forgiven for smiling at the costumes of the
men who made the game what it is. The smile, however,
was not at the men—there was nothing but
praise for them. Old stagers waxed eloquent over
the doings of the cricketers of their younger days.
They vowed there were as good men then as now,
although they had to confess the game had improved—and
consequently the players also.</p>
<p>A gray-headed veteran came up to Robert Foster
and said:</p>
<p>‘We had big crowds in our day, but nothing like
this,’ and he waved his hand in a comprehensive
sweep round the circle of faces.</p>
<p>Edgar was introduced to the veteran, who said:</p>
<p>‘I remember the first time I saw your father play.
He was about your age then, and he <em>was</em> a bat. I’ll
never forget it. It was on this very ground—Surrey
against Middlesex. He won the match, my boy. I’d<span class="pagenum">[235]</span>
sooner you were for us than against us to-day, if you
can play as well as your father did then.’</p>
<p>‘I recollect that match,’ said Robert; ‘but you
give me too much credit when you say I won it for
the team.’</p>
<p>‘Not a bit of it,’ replied the veteran. ‘Ask any
man who saw it, and I’ll guarantee he tells the
same story. Is it not recorded in the annals of
cricket?’</p>
<p>‘We’ve lost the toss,’ said Edgar. ‘The usual luck
at Lord’s.’</p>
<p>‘I expect they will bat,’ said Robert Foster.</p>
<p>‘I doubt it,’ said Edgar. ‘The ground is a bit
tricky and in favour of the bowlers. Grace has gone
to have a good look at the wicket. He knows there
are no chances to be thrown away.’</p>
<p>The tall figure of the English captain, with his
black, bushy beard, stood out boldly against the background
of people. It was in the days when Grace
was at his best, and Dr. E. M. was another of
the valiant brothers who took the field; Shaw and
Morley, the famous Notts bowlers, were in their
prime, and Daft had not yet retired from the field—when
such grand men as A. P. Lucas, A. G. Steel,
A. Lyttelton and Lord Harris were seen at nearly
every big match. It was an anxious moment for
everyone as Grace consulted with two of his team as
to whether they should bat.</p>
<p>At last the decision came. The Englishmen were
to bat, and a mighty cheer went up from the crowd.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[236]</span></p>
<p>‘The pitch is all right, or Grace would not have
gone in,’ said Robert Foster.</p>
<p>‘Perhaps he thinks it will wear all right for their
innings, and leave us with the ground cut up,’ said
Murch.</p>
<p>People settled down in their places, and made
themselves as comfortable as possible. As the Australians
filed on the ground, headed by Murch, cheer
after cheer was given them—for the ‘Kangaroo boys’
had become very popular.</p>
<p>The commencement of a great match is always
fraught with intense excitement. How will the game
go? Will there be a stand for the first wicket?</p>
<p>The brothers Grace, W. G. and E. M., came out to
face the bowling, and again the cheers broke out from
all parts of the ground. Two good men and good
bats were going to open the game for the honour of
Old England against the attack of her young country’s
sons.</p>
<p>The English captain went through the preliminaries
usual with him. He calmly surveyed the field,
noting with keen eyes how each man was placed.
He took his block, and then patted the ground in a
fatherly way with his bat, as though requesting the
pitch to behave well to him. Then he put his bat
under his arm and leisurely fastened his glove.
Having put himself to rights, he was ready for the
attack.</p>
<p>The battle had commenced, and it soon became
lively. Both men were in form, and the Australians<span class="pagenum">[237]</span>
had plenty of leather-hunting. Boundary hits did
not come quite so quickly as might have been
expected, as the ball seemed to fall rather dead, and
did not roll far. When an adjournment for luncheon
was made, both Graces were still in, and the crowd
was jubilant.</p>
<p>Murch was not at all depressed. He never gave
in, or had the faintest intention of doing so.</p>
<p>‘After luncheon will do it,’ he said. ‘There will
be a separation then.’</p>
<p>He was right, for in the first over E. M. Grace
had his stumps upset.</p>
<p>It was, however, uphill work fighting against such
a powerful batting team. Man after man came in
and piled up a score, and the captain was not got
rid of until he had placed one hundred and fifty-two
to his credit. He had played a grand innings,
and fully maintained his great reputation.</p>
<p>The Englishmen were not disposed of until they
had piled up the large score of four hundred and
two.</p>
<p>‘What do you think of it now?’ asked Robert
Foster of Edgar.</p>
<p>‘It is a big score, but we may equal it,’ he replied.</p>
<p>‘I admire your pluck, but I hardly think you
will do that,’ was the remark of a friend of Mr.
Foster’s.</p>
<p>They did not do it. The Australians made an
unfortunate start, for Murch, their great bat and
popular captain, was caught before he had scored.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[238]</span></p>
<p>Edgar made a fair show, and put on thirty runs
before he was bowled; but none of the team made
a good stand, and the innings closed, for a hundred
and fifty runs—two hundred and fifty-two behind
their opponents. This was a terribly black outlook
for the Australians, and everyone was disappointed
at their display.</p>
<p>Muriel Wylde felt vexed, and she knew Edgar
would be much cut up about it. He came to see
her, and tried to put the best face he could on the
matter.</p>
<p>‘We must avoid a one innings defeat, anyhow,’
he said; ‘I cannot make it out at all. It is sheer
bad luck, for the wicket was good. I think when
Murch got out for a duck it made our fellows feel a
bit nervous.’</p>
<p>‘You played well enough,’ said Brody.</p>
<p>‘That you did,’ said Will Brown; ‘but I’m afraid
you are in for an awful dressing.’</p>
<p>‘No telling what may happen in cricket,’ said
Edgar. ‘I have seen an even worse match than this
pulled out of the fire.’</p>
<p>‘Then you have not lost hope?’ said Muriel.</p>
<p>‘By no means,’ said Edgar. ‘I have a presentiment
we shall make a big score, and prove what we
really can do.’</p>
<p>Robert Foster was proud of the display of the
home eleven, but he could not help feeling a pang
of regret that the Australians had not made a better
show.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[239]</span></p>
<p>Will Murch was determined to have his revenge
for the catch that disposed of him, and said he felt
like making a big score. He got his men together,
and talked the matter over.</p>
<p>‘I’ll go in first again,’ he said, ‘with Bannman,
and we must make a stand somehow. If we can
make a big score the other side may be got out
without getting the requisite runs, or they may not
have time to get them, and we shall make a draw
of it.’</p>
<p>Edgar Foster was to go in at the fall of the first
wicket, and Murch was very anxious every man
should do his level best.</p>
<p>‘They will be very down in the mouth about it
at home,’ he said. ‘We can all imagine how they
felt when they saw the poor stand we made; we’ll
try and change the tune for them. Remember, lads,
that every run tells. Run carefully, but run well,
and then it is surprising how a few singles tot up
and swell the total. Bat carefully until you are set,
and when you feel safe don’t spare them. They have
given us some leather-hunting, let us return the compliment.’</p>
<p>The cheery words of their captain put heart into
the team, and it was with considerable confidence
they saw Murch and Bannman walk to the wickets
to commence the second innings.</p>
<p>Edgar went over to his father to watch the start,
and his heart beat fast as he saw Murch prepare to
take the first over.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[240]</span></p>
<p>‘This is better, much better,’ said Robert Foster,
as Murch hit a couple of fours in his first over. ‘We
can afford to be generous, and wish you all to do
well this innings.’</p>
<p>Bannman played a cautious game, and left the
bulk of the run-getting to his captain. After half
an hour’s play there was a change of bowling. Will
Murch treated the new-comer with scant ceremony.</p>
<p>To Edgar’s great delight the Australian captain
hit the bowling all over the field. His powerful
drives and clean cuts elicited well deserved applause,
which was freely bestowed.</p>
<p>‘If you go on at this rate,’ said Robert Foster,
‘it will put a very different complexion on the game.
Your men always did play a good uphill fight.’</p>
<p>‘And will do so to-day,’ said Edgar. ‘By Jove!
that was a narrow shave.’</p>
<p>Bannman made a miss-hit, and the ball went near
to the fielder at point, but he just failed to hold it,
although he touched it.</p>
<p>When the second day’s play ended, Murch and
Bannman were not out, and the score stood at one
hundred and thirty, of which number Will Murch
had made eighty-four.</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
<p><span class="pagenum">[241]</span></p>
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