POEMS OLD AND NEW
And cut them long, straight fishing-poles and equi-
lateral catty forks ;
And he always knew of a fresh nest.
Besides, he could make a thousand things with his
old pocket-knife.
VII
How good he was at cricket too !
On the long summer evenings he would saunter to
the green and watch the lads at play.
And by and by someone would offer him a few
knocks.
Then the Doctor's coat would be carefully detached,
and Jack would spit on his hands, and brandish
the bat.
And away the ball would go, north and south and
east and west,
And sometimes bang into the zenith.
For Jack had little science : 10
Upon each ball he made the same terrific and magni-
ficent onslaught,
Whether half volley, or full pitch, or long hop, or leg
break,-or off break, or shooter, or yorker.
And when the stumps fell he would cheerfully set
them up again, while his white teeth flashed in
the recesses of his beard.
VIII
The only persons who were not conspicuously fond
of Jack were his wife, and the schoolmaster,
and the head-keeper.
The schoolmaster had an idea that if Jack were
hanged there would be no more truants ;
His wife would attend the funeral without an extra-
ordinary show of grief;
And the head-keeper would mutter, " There's one
poacher less."