FullReads

“No, no, Daddy; wait a moment! Tell us about Bonner and the big catch.”

“Oh, you know about that!”

Two little coaxing voices came out of the darkness.

“Oh, please! Please!”

“I don’t know what your mother will say! What was it you asked?”

“Bonner!”

“Ah, Bonner!” Daddy looked out in the gloom and saw green fields and golden sunlight, and great sportsmen long gone to their rest. “Bonner was a wonderful man. He was a giant in size.”

“As big as you, Daddy?”

Daddy seized his elder boy and shook him playfully. “I heard what you said to Miss Cregan the other day. When she asked you what an acre was you said ‘About the size of Daddy.'”

Both boys gurgled.

“But Bonner was five inches taller than I. He was a giant, I tell you.”

“Did nobody kill him?”

“No, no, Dimples. Not a story-book giant. But a great, strong man. He had a splendid figure and blue eyes and a golden beard, and altogether he was the finest man I have ever seen–except perhaps one.”

“Who was the one, Daddy?”

“Well, it was the Emperor Frederick of Germany.”

“A Jarman!” cried Dimples, in horror.

“Yes, a German. Mind you, boys, a man may be a very noble man and be a German–though what has become of the noble ones these last three years is more than I can guess. But Frederick was noble and good, as you could see on his face. How he ever came to be the father of such a blasphemous braggart”–Daddy sank into reverie.

“Bonner, Daddy!” said Laddie, and Daddy came back from politics with a start.

“Oh, yes, Bonner. Bonner in white flannels on the green sward with an English June sun upon him. That was a picture of a man! But you asked me about the catch. It was in a test match at the Oval–England against Australia. Bonner said before he went in that he would hit Alfred Shaw into the next county, and he set out to do it. Shaw, as I have told you, could keep a very good length, so for some time Bonner could not get the ball he wanted, but at last he saw his chance, and he jumped out and hit that ball the most awful ker-wallop that ever was seen in a cricket-field.”

“Oo!” from both boys: and then, “Did it go into the next county, Daddy?” from Dimples.

“Well, I’m telling you!” said Daddy, who was always testy when one of his stories was interrupted. “Bonner thought he had made the ball a half- volley–that is the best ball to hit–but Shaw had deceived him and the ball was really on the short side. So when Bonner hit it, up and up it went, until it looked as if it were going out of sight into the sky.”

“Oo!”

“At first everybody thought it was going far outside the ground. But soon they saw that all the giant’s strength had been wasted in hitting the ball so high, and that there was a chance that it would fall within the ropes. The batsmen had run three runs and it was still in the air. Then it was seen that an English fielder was standing on the very edge of the field with his back on the ropes, a white figure against the black line of the people. He stood watching the mighty curve of the ball, and twice he raised his hands together above his head as he did so. Then a third time he raised his hands above his head, and the ball was in them and Bonner was out.”

“Why did he raise his hands twice?”

“I don’t know. He did so.”

“And who was the fielder, Daddy?”

“The fielder was G. F. Grace, the younger brother of W. G. Only a few months afterwards he was a dead man. But he had one grand moment in his life, with twenty thousand people all just mad with excitement. Poor G. F.! He died too soon.”