1 NOVEMBER 1969, Page 10

The acid Test

CHRISTOPHER HOLLIS

They burnt the new pavilion down And chased the umpire round the town, And, when the other side might win, Saw that the match should not begin.

An old life-member stole the ball.

A splendid time was had by all.

Daggers and guns—no matter which—

Were brandished vaguely round the pitch.

Who cares which bowls or bats the best?

Crackers are now the acid Test.

Cricket, I fear, has got the name Of being a slowly moving game, So, if we're going to keep the gate, We've got to keep it up to date.

The only way to get the cash is To burn the ground and keep the ashes, Crying, as we explode the wicket, 'C'est magnifique, mais pas de cricket.'