marked as it is in wicket-keeping, and for this improvement present-day cricketers have to thank that prince of wicket-keepers, the Australian, Blackham. Before he made his appearance in England, long-stops were looked upon as quite as indispensable to a side as the wicket-keeper himself, but on his arrival in 1878 the fallacy of that theory was quickly demonstrated. Wickets in those days were not quite the perfect wickets of to-day, and with Spofforth bowling his fastest and best, the manner in which Blackham stood close up to the wicket, and without the aid of a long-stop, was looked upon as something approaching the marvellous. Magnificent keepers as we have had, since he revolutionised the art of wicket-keeping, he is still without an equal.
No one, unless he possesses a natural aptitude for the position, is likely to achieve any considerable success, though it is a mistake to suppose that a wicket-keeper, like the poet, is born, not made. Much can be done by practice, and by studying the methods of the many brilliant keepers that abound to-day. Excepting the captain of the side, no man is more open to criticism than the wicket-keeper, and in nine cases out of ten this criticism tends in the direction of abuse. By those who have been unfortunate enough to have been persuaded to don the gloves, the difficulties of the position are duly appreciated, but unless one has done so, one is hardly able to judge the great assistance that a good keeper can render a bowler. Besides his duties of stumping, running out, and catching, he is often able to inform
