hawk, keeping his left shoulder well forward and thereby getting well over the bumping ball, holding the bat, when occasion demands, loosely—such a bat hardly exists. Of course, putting Grace aside, the only batsmen of the scientific sort whom I have seen rise above difficulties of wicket are Shrewsbury, Barnes, Steel, and Rashleigh; and of these the greatest is Shrewsbury, whose innings of 164, in 1886, against Palmer, Giffen, Garrett, Spofforth, and Evans, was the greatest individual innings on a bowler's wicket that I have ever seen; and ever to be held in honour was Rashleigh's two innings in 1888, when he scored 48 and 37 on a real bowler's wicket against Turner and Ferris just in their prime, and whom he had never seen before.
The other sort of player, who sometimes comes off on difficult wickets, is the bold and fearless hitter; and in this, as in several other ways, we have learnt a lesson from the Australians. In the particular match I have just mentioned, in which Rashleigh played
