Still, as I have said, it is now recognised that the craving for tea
is as much a part of the present-day game as the six-ball over, and
the time has passed for censuring it. But something can be done to
regulate it; and I have based my efforts towards a solution on the
argument that, if a cricketer is not called in from the game to read
his telegram, but (as we have all seen so often) the telegram is
taken out to him, surely the precious fluid that he so passionately
desiderates can be taken out to him too. At present, therefore, all
my thoughts are turned upon the construction of some kind of wheeled
waggon, such as is in use at a well-known restaurant in the Strand, on
which fifteen cups (two for the umpires) and an urn and sugar and milk
can be conveyed, with the concomitant bread-and-butter, or shrimps or
meringues, or whatever is eaten with the tea, on a lower shelf. This
could be pushed on to the ground at 4.15 and pushed back again at
4.20 without any serious injury to the match. That is my idea at the
moment; but I am a poor mechanic and should be glad if some properly
qualified person--someone with a HEATH ROBINSON mind--would take the
work over.

E.V.L.

* * * * *


IN THE MOVEMENT.

How I came to be able to understand the language of trees is a secret.
But I do understand it. It is my peculiar privilege to overhear all
kinds of whispered conversation--green speech in green shades--as I