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anyhow/' he remarked-----Crump and Bishop! The

names had a profound significance for me. For many
years I had heard Dixon speak of them, and I had
even watched them playing in a few Flower Show
Matches. Heavily built men in dark blue caps, with
large drooping moustaches, one of them bowling
vindictively at each end and Butley wickets falling
fast; or else one of them batting at each end and Butley
bowling being scored off with masterful severity.

But they had also produced a less localized effect on
me. Rotherden was on the "unhunted" side of our
district; it was in a part of the county which I some-
how associated with cherry-blossom and black-and-
white timbered cottages. Also it had the charm of
remoteness, and whenever I thought of Crump and
Bishop, I comprehensively visualized the whole four-
teen miles of more or less unfamiliar landscape which
lay between Butley and Rotherden. For me the
names meant certain lovely glimpses of the Weald,
and the smell of mown hayfields, and the noise of a
shallow river flowing under a bridge. Yet Crump
was an ordinary auctioneer who sold sheep iincl cattle
on market days, and Bishop kept the "Rose and
Crown*' at Rotherden.


BUTLEY HAD lost the toss. As we went on to the
field I tightened the black and yellow scarf which
I wore round my waist; the scarf proved that I had
won a place in my House Eleven at school, and it was
my sole credential as a cricketer. But to-day was more
exciting and important than any House Match, and
my sense of my own inferiority did not prevent