most proficient disciple in Fuller Pilch: though I suspect that, as "poeta nascitur non fit"—that is, that all great performers appear to have brought the secret of their excellence into the world along with them, and are not the mere puppets of which others pull the strings—Fuller Pilch may think he rather coincided with, than learnt from, William Fennex.
Now the David Harris aforesaid, who wrought quite a revolution in the game, changing cricket from a backward and a slashing to a forward and defensive game, and claiming higher stumps to do justice to his skill—this David, whose bowling was many years in advance of his generation, having all the excellence of Lillywhite's high delivery, though free from all imputation of unfairness—this David rose early, and late took rest, and ate the bread of carefulness, before he attained such distinction as—in these days of railroads, Thames tunnels, and tubular gloves and bridges—to deserve the notice of our pen. "For," said John Bennett, "you might have seen David practising at dinner time and after hours, all the winter through;" and "many a Hampshire barn," said Beagley, "has been heard to resound with bats and balls as well as threshing."
"Nil sine magno
Vita labore dedit mortalibus"
And now we must mention the men, who, at
