BOOKS OF THE DAY

Wisden's Cricketers' Almanack (Oliver Warner) 539 Government of a Metropolis (R. C. K. Ensor) .

540

Who Is For Liberty? (W. T. Wells) ... 540 James Ramsay MacDonald (Wilson Harris)

542

Population and Fertility (R. F. Harrod) ... 544 Public Aspects of Finance (Honor Croome) 546 Marshal Pilsudski (E. H. Carr) ... 548 The Business of Education (Headmaster of Mill Hill) ... 548 Danton's Death (Edward Sackville West) ...

550 Glory Dead (Geoffrey Grigson) ... 552 Two Essayists (Richard Church) ... • •• 554 Exiles (Anthony Powell) ... ... 556 Detective Stories (Nicholas Blake) • •

558

Current Literature ..

560

WORDS OF WISDEN

By OLIVER WARNER

IN former years, towards the end of March, the cricket enthusiast would find himself impelled towards Great New- port Street, off the Charing Cross Road. There, in Wisden's modest but attractive shop, he would ask if the new Almanack —best and fattest of all yellowbacks—was ready. If so, he would heave a sigh of relief that a new cricket season was advancing. He would sniff that smell of linseed-oil, blanco and leather which, with mown grass, is the aroma of the game, stuff the new edition into his overcoat pocket, and assure himself of good evenings ahead.

Since last year things have changed. Wisden's shop is, indeed, still flourishing, but the Almanack itself is to be seen almost everywhere where books can be bought, for it is now published by a firm celebrated for a much more embracing digest, who without spoiling what D. H. Lawrence would have called its " old-flavoured style," have made real improve- ments in its appearance, and have extended its popularity in an astonishing way. Of these changes, what has perhaps been most noticed and appreciated is the unity of pagination, and the placing of that impressive list of Births and Deaths at the end. How much easier quick reference has been made is now known to all those who regularly thumb the pages.

Most people, on opening Wisden, turn first to discover who are the Cricketers of the Year. Next to playing against Aus- tralia, a photograph in Wisden is probably the most coveted honour the game can offer. The choice of subjects is made upon one of two grounds: either because sterling service demands record, or by reason of unusual promise. This year the fortunate are H. T. Bartlett, an amateur of whom much is hoped ; his left-handed aggression is a tonic to spectators; W. A. Brown, the stalwart Australian batsman ; Denis Comp- ton, a natural stroke-player if ever there was one, and a potential slow bowler ; K. Fames, one of the most consistent among fast attackers ; and Wood, the Yorkshire stumper.

Wood has a way of being late, and staying. He goes in late —No. 8—and generally stays : he played first against Aus- tralia late—at 40, almost to a day ; and he is late maturing into the pages of Wisden ; but a sounder Yorkshireman never played cricket.

We must wait until next spring for a permanent record of that tediously extended game which recently died at Durban : finishing the clockless game in South Africa, if general opinion is any guide. In the new Wisden we revert to last year's Australian .tour, including as it does that remarkable Bradman century in poor light at Leeds, which led an English selector to state in The Times that there never had been such a batsman, and that dour tribute paid in August to the Oval groundsman, when England scored 9o3 for 7, and Bradman crocked himself—bowling!

Wisden also records the official retirement of two cricketers who knew the game in lambent days before the War ; George Geary, of Leicester, and the peerless Woolley. Geary, who goes as coach to Charterhouse, may still be seen occasionally, late in the season ; Woolley will never again make the first century of the year. Here his history is enshrined : it is incomparably the greatest ever achieved by a left-hander. He will never, like W. G. Grace and Hobbs, give his name to a whole era of cricket, but the memory of his poise and skill must remain with every one of those who saw him bat.

Of the game in general, " successive editors," so runs the Annual Note, " have pleaded again and again for some limit to be placed on the preparation of wickets, and," says Mr. Brookes, " I make no apology for returning to the subject." Last year G. 0. Allen wrote an impassioned article urging Wisden's Cricketers' Almanack. (Whitaker. 75. 6d. and 55.) more natural wickets. Talk towards this end still rattles, since it is clearly the key to more lively matches. But little is ever done, or will be done, until it is a groundsman's job and pride to make a pitch which will last not (as they so boldly say) for ever, but for a possible three or four days: scope enough for wicked skill.

Don Bradman, in a first and lively contribution, adds his voice to the agitation for wickets " reasonably natural, and amenable to some fair degree of wear." With equal reason he urges better score-boards for this country—doubtless sighing for something on the scale of the Sydney apparatus— and the retention of the " luck of the toss." Here he is emphatic. " To enable one captain to know in advance which team would have the choice of batting would pave the way to so many undesirable possibilities that I do not think it worth while discussing." He will not find so much support for his proposal for a further extension of the l.b.w. rule. In another article Woolley says he thinks this " would make a farce of the game." When the eminent disagree, it is best to hold one's tongue, and to reflect that this particular rule in its old and new form has brought more dissatisfaction to batsmen and perplexity to umpires than most. Perplexities, by the way, though of the more obscure variety, are given their due in a cheerful article by A. E. R. Gilligan.

With sensible optimism, the editor points to a present wealth of young batsmen, brit he is less easy about bowlers. His doubts will be shared. He thinks that Wright, of Kent, despite his way of taking the difficult wicket, has been over- praised : but his future should be long, and he is helped by a latent ability to bat. Glancing at the averages, it is indeed the mature men who catch the eye : Bowes, Verity, Clay, Wellard. Larwood has said goodbye to the county game : much must now depend upon the giant Fames.

Each Wisden brings a sad crop of obituary notices. The most important of these belongs to Lord Hawke ; but there is pathos in the fact that W. G. Grace's one surviving son died last year while playing in a match at Hawkhurst. Hugh Trimble is also remembered, and, among others, that physical phenomenon, General Poore, who appeared fully fledged as a county cricketer when itt his thirties, after service abroad. In 1899 he had the astounding average of 91.23, and his whole record makes sensational reading.

Lord Hawke is given pious tributes, which are, of course, deserved, though the interpretation of some of his more caustic comments on the game is almost comically mealy-mouthed. It is doubtful if it was ever possible to misunderstand Lord Hawke, though whether his conservatism of feeling worked wholly for the good of the game is a matter of opinion. He was the original of several cricket legends : a man respected and feared, but one who represented an attitude differing from the freer spirit of the present age. Not all cricketers grow crusted ; but there is some ground for such satire as occurs, for instance, in Adrian Alington's The Amazing Test Match Crime, which is just now making younger players laugh.

So much essential information is packed into the nine hundred and fifty odd pages of this new edition—the 76th— that it may seem ungracious to ask for more, and the request itself will certainly be frowned upon. But it is a fact that, while the Almanack covers almost every aspect of cricket, including the schools, it remains silent about the Lancashire League. " Well it may! " the orthodox will say ; but all the same League cricket is intensely popular in the North, as well as fiercely exciting. To Southerners it is a closed book, though they know the value of many stars lured away by its prizes. Even a page or two on the subject, tucked away at the back, would help to lighten ignorance.