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Full text of "TheCompleteMemoirsOfGeorgeSherston"

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will never get in again,'5 she exclaimed, handing me
the sheet with ihe cricket news on it.

Carrying this into the garden I set about consulting
the omens lor my success in the match. I searched
assiduously through the first-class scores, picking out
the amateurs whose names, like my own, began with
S, and whose initial was G. There were only two
that day: the result was most unsatisfactory. G. Shaw
run out, i: 6T. Smith, c. Lilly, b. Field, o. According
to that I should score half a run. So I called in
professional assistance, and was rewarded with:
Shrewsbury i not out, ii>7. This left me in a very awk-
ward position. The average now worked out at 64.
The highest score I had ever made was 51, and that
was only in a practice game at Ballboro*. Besides, 51
from 64 lc,li 13, an unlucky number. It was absurd
even to dally with the idea of my making sixty-four
in the Bui Icy Flower Show Match. Any thing between
twenty and thirty would have been encouraging. But
Aunt Kvclyn's voice from the drawing-room window
inlbnnc.d m<; that she would be starling in less than
ten miujUrs, so I rau upstairs to change into my
flaunds. And, anyhow, the weather couldn't have
been better. . . . While we were walking across the
fields Aunt K\ clyn paused on the top of a stile to
remark that .she felt sure Mr. Balfour would be a
splendid Prime Minister. But I was meditating about
Shrewsbury's innings. How I wished I could bat like
him, if only fur one day!

The village of Butlcy contained, as one of its chief
characters, a portly and prosperous saddler named
William Dodd. It was Dodcl who now greeted us at