158 ~ . , Our Maying. .[Au<r. 



pleasant labour. Ob, the din of that building ! Talk of the Tower of 

 JRabel ! that was a quiet piece of masonry compared to the May-house 

 of VVhitley Wood, with its walls of leaves and flo Wei's and its canvass 

 booths at either end for refreshments and musicians. Never was known 

 more joyous note of preparation. 



The morning rose more quietly I had almost said more dully and 

 promised ill for the ftte. The sky was gloomy, the wind cold, and the 

 green filled as slowly as a balloon seems to do when one is watching it. 

 The entertainments of the day were to begin with a cricket-match (two 

 elevens to be chosen on the ground), and the wickets pitched at twelve 

 o'clock precisely. .Twelve o'clock came, but no cricketers except, 

 indeed, some two or three punctual and impatient gentlemen ; one o'clock 

 came, and brought no other reinforcement than two or three more of our 

 young Etonians and Wyckhaniites less punctual than their precursors, 

 but not a whit less impatient. Very provoking, certainly but not very 

 uncommon. Your country cricketer, the peasant, the mere rustic, does 

 love, on these occasions, to keep his betters waiting, to shew his power; 

 and when we consider that it is the one solitary opportunity in which 

 importance can be felt and vanity gratified, we must acknowledge 

 it to be perfectly in human nature that a few airs should be shewn. Ac- 

 cordingly, our best players held aloof. Tom Copes would not come to 

 the ground ; Joel Brown came, indeed, but would not play ; Samuel Long 

 coquetted he would and he would not. Very provoking, certainly ! Then 

 two young farmers, a tall brother and a short, Hampshire men, cricketers 

 born, whose good-humour and love of the game rendered them sure cards, 

 bad been compelled to go on business the one, ten miles south the 

 other, fifteen north that very morning. No playing without the God- 



dards ! No sign of either of them on the B road or the F . 



Most intolerably provoking, beyond a doubt ! Master Brown tried his 

 best coaxing and his best double on the recusant players ; but all in 

 vain. In short, there was great danger of the match going off altogether; 

 when, about two o'clock. Amos Stokes, who was there with the crown of 

 his straw hat sewed in wrong side outward new thatched, as it were 



and who had been set to watch the B highway, gave notice that 



something was coming as tall as the Maypole which something turning 

 out to be the long Goddard and his brother approaching at the same 

 moment in the opposite direction, hope, gaiety, and good-humour revived 

 again ; and two elevens, including Amos and another urchin of his calibre, 

 were formed on the spot. 



I never saw a prettier match. The gentlemen, the Goddards, and the 

 boys being equally divided, the strength and luck of the parties were so 

 well balanced, that it produced quite a neck-and-neck race, won only by 

 two notches. Amos was completely the hero of the day, standing out half 

 of his side, and getting five notches at one hit. His side lost but so many 

 of his opponents gave him their ribbons (have not I said that Master 

 Brown bestowed a set of ribbons?), that the straw hat was quite covered 

 with purple trophies; and Amos, stalking about the ground, with a sly and 

 awkward vanity, looked with his decorations like the sole conqueror the 

 Alexander or Napoleon of the day. The boy did not speak a word ; but 

 every now and then he displayed a set of huge white teeth in a grin of 

 inexpressible delight. By far the happiest and proudest personage of that 

 Maying was Amos Stokes. 



By the time the cricket-match was over, the world began to be gay at 



