Spofforth's match. Absence of betting, real skill and patience, intermixed with rapid and perhaps unorthodox hitting, many ups and downs, a most perplexing uncertainty, and the caprices of English weather—such is cricket, and it is justly called the king of games.
What can be said of golf? What is the reason of golf coming to stay in England and in America, too, if report speaks truly? It is not easy to say why such is the case. Anybody can understand why football is a popular game; it is fast for one thing, and there is violent exercise in it, which an Englishman always loves. And in the case of cricket anybody can understand the joy of hitting a ball over the ropes, while the excitement of playing before crowds appeals strongly to many of us. But how uninviting it sounds to hear golf described: "Your object, sir, is to get a ball down a series of holes in as few strokes as possible." Such was the definition of a Scotchman of the game, spoken in proper dialect, and no more and no less could be said. How very different from an imaginary epitome of the game of Association football: "See that ball, and see those two posts; now set
