More Cricket Songs. By Norman Gale. (Alston Rivers. 2s. net.)—Mr.
Gale's lively Muse is always welcome. Possibly she is overmuch given to improvising. A little more consideration, a little more correction, would not be out of place. The bard must remember that what may be snug multo cum plausu, at a luncheon in the tent, or a dinner when the season is beginning or ended, may not please as much in the cold light of a reviewer's library table. We shall not, however, trouble our readers with any criticisms. Here is a specimen of Mr. Gale's work when he is at his best, and, indeed, the theme is one to give inspiration :— " Ab, for some kingly match in Town, To give the scene ita fitting ode, Sir! Could Finder fire the athletic lyre, A truant from his bright abode, Sir, How would ho chant the Chief heroic, The trundler's hope become zeroic, The drives from liberal shoulders poured, The changing history of the
Long may the champion's pith be scored In figures leaping on the Board !
Strong in the arms as Hercules, For club, a bat within his band, Sir, Behold him there, the foe's despair, Persuade the bowling to the stimd, Sir What if some wrinkles now take leases Upon his brow ? He's used to creases! And, young in muscle, still can laugh At fifty on Time's Telegraph.
This Toast, good comrades, let us quaff— Three figures on his Telegraph!"
It was written, we may remark, for Mr. W. G. Grace's fiftieth birthday.
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