clever in these things, skimming off one bail with his little finger, ball in hand, and not troubling the umpire. Once his friend, Mr. R. K., had an awkward trick of pulling up his trousers, which lifted his leg every time he had missed a ball: Mr. Jenner waited for his accustomed habit, caught him in the act, and stumped him. "A similar piece of fun happened in Gentlemen of England v. Gentlemen of Kent in 1845. A Kent player sat down to get wind, after a run, his bat in his ground but with seat of honour out, and for a moment let go the handle, and the wicket-keeper stumped him out. He was very angry, and said he never would play again: however, he did play the return match at Canterbury, where he was put out in precisely the same manner. Since which, like Monsieur Tonson, he has never been heard of more."
That a fieldsman wants wits to his fingers' ends, was shown by Martingell one day: being just too ten to command a ball he gave it a touch to keep it up, and cried, "Catch it, Slip." Slip, so assisted, reached the ball.
The great thing in Wicket-keeping is, for hand and eye to go together, just as with batting, and what is exercise for the former, assists the latter. Any exercise in which the hand habitually tries to obey the eye, is useful for cricket; fielding improves batting, and batting improves fielding.
