time. But the fearful and terrible feature of cricket now lies in the fact that Noble and Quaife, by a rigorous system of self-suppression, by never touching an off ball except by hitting it down on the ground, by leaving all rising balls alone, cannot be got out on the present wickets. They may be batting almost for days. In the third match played between England and Australia last year at Manchester, England, by scoring 372, practically made themselves safe from defeat, and all the Australians could, or at any rate attempted to do, was to play for a draw. Noble scored in the match 149 runs, and he was at the wickets for 812 hours, an average of 18 runs an hour on a fast wicket with boundaries, and at one time he did not make a run for three-quarters of an hour. Such cricket ought to be impossible. The man is not to be blamed. He must do his best to save the match, though to dig would be preferable as an amusement; but the necessity for such a thing ought not to arise in the first place, and to carry it out ought to be beyond the power of practical politics. Lastly, high scoring makes the game too hard a toil. It is all very well playing a
