Horace Bleackley

“ The third ball felled Notchy’s middle stump.
“Why, that were a toss,” cried Farmer Giles, scratching his head.
“Lit full on the bails,” said the maltster. “They’re offering even money, Farmer. Will you have any more on?”
The luckless batsman walked from the wickets with drooping head, while the followers of Sampley cheered wildly, and the natives of Hamble Green pulled long faces for their champion had been dismissed without a notch.
“Well, Bumper, how d’you feel now?” said Lord Jeffry, grinning with delight at his friend. ”

“ In this spot a few seconds later they came face to face.
“We play our great game against Sampley to-morrow,” Notchy began, his arm still round his sweetheart’s waist after the first greetings were over.
“La, Notchy, it’s all cricket with thee,” answered the buxom Margy with a pout. “You talk ’bout nothing else.”
“Good reason, lass,” returned Notchy, his red, jolly face all over smiles. “My lord Bumper has promised me fifty guineas if Hamble Green wins. He’s backed us heavy. If I get the brass we can be wed as soon as the missus can let you off.” ”

“ His vanity aspired to emulate Notchy’s prowess at cricket! His duty to his farm left him little leisure, but all his spare moments were devoted to assiduous practice. Alas, his brother’s talent was denied him, and he was the only one who could not realise that he was a hopeless duffer.
One fine summer’s evening, about nine years after his brother’s departure from home, Dicky Wood was sitting in the little porch in front of his tiny cottage, gloating over one of Notchy’s rare epistles. This is how it ran:—
“Dere Dick,—May this find you well as it leeves me, and my lovin respects to mother. ”

“ Old fogies can come hither to watch the sport of their youth without tiring their ancient limbs, while small urchins have no need to stray far from the cottage home to learn their first lessons in the game. ”

“ The elder—by five minutes—very soon displayed wonderful skill at cricket, and because of his early success as a batsman he began to be called Notchy, while his twin-brother was never known by any other than the derivative of his Christian name, Richard.
As soon as Notchy reached man’s estate he began to grow ambitious, and longed to earn a reputation in the world of cricket. This fact coming to the ears of the lord of the manor, young Earl Jeffry, a keen sportsman with a peculiar reputation, he secured the young man an appointment with the famous club at Hamble Green, in Kent. ”

“ The match between Hable Green and Sampley was brought to an early conclusion on the following day, and thanks to the batting and bowling of the real Notchy, Hamble Green secured an easy victory. No one ever discovered that one player had been substituted for the other. As it was only just that all bets should stand, the home team having been so handicapped in the first innings, Lord Bumper and the Rector kept their own counsel, being anxious, for the sake of Lord Jeffry’s family, to avoid scandal. ”

“ Boys on their way to school have a chance of witnessing a few overs without going out of the straight path, and tradesmen can look on at the play from their shop doors. At one extremity stands the “King’s Arms,” with the sturdy old oak tree in front of it, past which, and all along the side of the common, runs the London road. Branching off from this at right angles, and forming the northern boundary of the cricket field, is the Sampley road, across which lies the rectory garden, with its three stately elm trees rising close behind the hedge. ”

“ The Hamble Green wickets fell rapidly after the dismissal of the supposititious Notchy, and in an hour the whole side was out for fifty runs. The intelligence was conveyed to Lord Jeffry at the “King’s Arms,” where, as the liquor was to his taste, he had
“‘Let me loose!’ roared Notchy in a very masculine voice.” ”