The next two balls are blocked dead.
Then my companion makes a single.

Hurrah! We are equal now.

At any rate defeat is averted! Now for victory! It is my turn to bat; but this ball is not the sort of one to play tricks with; so with an effort I keep my bat square, and stop it without hitting.
"Played, sir!" cries some one, approvingly, and I feel my self-denial rewarded.
But the next ball is not so dangerous.

I can see it is a careless one, which I may safely punish.

Punish it I will; so I step forward, and catching it on the bound, bang it I know not and care not where.
What shouting! what cheering as we run, one, two, three, four, five times across the wickets! The match is ours, with a wicket to spare; and as we ride back that evening to Parkhurst, and talk and laugh and exult over that day's victory, we are the happiest eleven fellows, without exception, that ever rode on the top of an omnibus..