Devonshire 117 



stumps were drawn, and I retired with thirteen to my 

 credit for three balls. 



Some years afterwards I had a very triumphant 

 moment when playing at Gibraltar. We had been to 

 Ireland since the Devonshire days, and to the Ashanti 

 War, and I had not had a bat in my hand for years. 

 The whole battalion almost had changed, and none of 

 the privates had ever seen me play at all. A match was 

 got up, the officers against the men, and being so utterly 

 out of practice, I requested Captain Slade, the captain of 

 our team, to put me in the last man. When it came to 

 my turn to bat, ten runs were still wanted to equal the 

 men's score, and on approaching the wicket, someone of 

 the opposite side called out, " Come and catch him off his 

 bat." The idea was popular, and I smiled inwardly to 

 myself as they crowded close around. A slow, well- 

 pitched-up ball was bowled, and the thrill that went 

 through the faces, I often think of, as I took a step 

 forward and lifted my bat for a real drive. They had 

 no time to move, but were just able to grasp the mistake 

 they had made as I caught the ball fair, and it fortunately 

 went through their midst without touching anyone. The 

 next moment they were all retiring to the uttermost parts 

 of the field with great celerity, and after making the 

 necessary eleven to win the match, I carried my bat 

 out in triumph. 



