county to provide him with an opportunity of distinguishing himself, and every year more and more close and fine matches are being played. The struggle for supremacy has never been greater than it is now, or more keenly fought out. Every run, every over, every wicket is noted, tabulated, and scored in decimal figures. The public all follow these figures if they understand them; they applaud hugely when the thousandth run is scored by some batsman, or the hundredth wicket secured by some bowler; telegrams are being sent all over the country almost every hour, and the result of each day's cricket and the performance of this or that individual is discussed in cottage, palace, bar parlour, and kitchen, eagerly, and in some cases acrimoniously.
There are signs that some abuses may be remedied in the near future, and the question of qualification is one. Formerly, all that was necessary to qualify for a county was for a room to be taken in the name of the player, in respect of which rates were assessed and levied. The player himself need never see the room, and he never paid the rates; he might even all the
