Every player is conscious of one particular length that puzzles him,—of one point between himself and the bowler, in which he would rather that the ball should not pitch. "There is a length-ball that almost blinds you," said an experienced player at Lord's. There is a length that makes many a player shut his eyes and turn away his head; "a length," says Mr. Felix, "that brings over a man most indescribable emotions." There are two ways to play such balls: to discriminate is difficult, and, "if you doubt, you are lost." Let a be the farthest point
to which a good player can reach, so as to plant his bat at the proper angle, at once preventing a catch, stopping a shooter, and intercepting a bailer. Then, at any point short of a, should the bat be placed, the ball may rise over the bat if held to the ground, or shoot under if the bat is a little raised. At b the same single act of planting the bat cannot both cover a bailer and stop a shooter. Every ball which the batsman can
