Sixpenny' became unexpectedly famous in the cricket annals of the school in the summer half of 1845. A tall, overgrown boy of the name of Abbott, backward in school, but precociously forward in games, presided over the Fourth-Form Club, where he was a Triton amongst the minnows.' The wicket-keeper of the school eleven, now a distinguished Chancery Judge, wisely indulged in cricket supervision visits in every part of the Playing-fields. watched the play, whenever and wherever a game was going on, and reported to his captain the results of his observation. Nobody escaped him, not even the despised 'Aquatics,' who on rainy evenings, unfit for rowing, condescended to urge the flying ball,' and always in an upward direction.

He

This vigilance was well rewarded. 'Sixpenny' and' Aquatics' furnished us, at different periods, with two really useful men in our matches at Lord's. Abbott's sudden elevation per saltum, from 'Sixpenny' to Upper Club, caused a great sensation; but he made a distinguished début in the Upper Shooting Fields, and scored over fifty in the Harrow match, thus more than justifying the wisdom of the

future Judge, who had picked him out of the humblest club in the Playing fields.

The aquatic great by land and sea' in my time was my old friend Augustus Rivers Thompson,* now, or, until recently, a Judge in India. Thompson was one of the best oars in the eight, and though he just missed being in the eleven, acted as my deputy in the Winchester match of 1847. I have been informed quite recently, that I had, for a part of the match, a second deputy, Wiss, who, on Thompson's being called away from Lord's to row in the Westminster match, fielded out for the ubiquitous 'Bill.' It has taken about fifty years for me to recover from my disappointment and mortification at missing my share in that victory, for it was an annus mirabilis for Eton that year—we triumphed on land and water.

In modern days victory does not invariably sit on the Eton helm, so that I may look back with some justifiable pride on the one blessed year when we lowered the colours of Westminster, Harrow, and Winchester. I was detained by an examination in Election Chamber when the wickets were pitched at Lord's for

* Always called Bill Thompson at Eton.

the Winchester match, and had received an agonizing letter from my captain (now Lord Justice Chitty) to the effect that, if I could not appear at such and such an hour on the ground, Thompson must play for me. Almost immediately after the receipt of this agreeable announcement, the examiners renewed their tortures for two more hours; I had to write thirty bad iambics on a speech of Miltiades, and thus was too late to contribute to the defeat of Winchester. To compare small things with great, it was Sir Charles Colville fretting his life out at Hal, nine miles from Waterloo, and not allowed to fire a shot. I arrived in time to take my proper place in the Harrow match, when Blore and Aitken made terrible havoc with their deadly straight bowling, and Jem Aitken, in an innings which became historical, hit two consecutive balls for six and seven each. We got out the Harrow eleven in their first innings for 27 runs. It was a famous victory, but I grudged Will Thompson his share in the earlier match.

It is a curious thing that Marcon and H. W. Fellows, the two fastest Eton bowlers that I remember, should have been in the same eleven.