Wicket Jokes
The Cry of the Cricketer
(In a Pluvial Autumn.)
Rain, rain, go away,
Come again before next May!
The driving shower and chilling raw gust
Are most inopportune in August.
Rain has a chance to reign, remember,
Till early summer from September.
Why come and spoil cricket’s last pages,
Our wickets—and our averages?
“Cricketing Intelligence.”—Sporting Old Parson (to professional player). “Why is a ball like that called a ‘yorker,’ sir?” Professional Player. “A ‘yorker,’ sir? Oh, when the ball’s pitched right up to the block—-” Sporting Parson. “Yes, yes—I didn’t ask you what a ‘yorker’ was”— (with dignity)—“I know that as well as you do. But why is it called a ‘yorker’?” Professional Player. “Well, I can’t say, sir. I don’t know what else you could call it!”]