number of players in cricket

number of players in cricket lives!’” —_Wharton the Whale Killer_. “Yes.”,“I’m afraid you’re right, Ted,” said Bob. “But I sure hate to think it.”,There was a poor young man. He was very poor. His father, his mother, and all his relations were dead. He had no lodge, no wife to tan his robes or make his moccasins. His clothes were always old and worn. He had no home. To-day he stopped in one lodge; then to-morrow he ate and slept in another. Thus he lived. He had a good face, but on his cheek was a bad scar.,Jerry, on account of his experience, had at once been assigned to active outside work as the aid of one of the many junior assistant engineers. At night he would tell Bob of the day’s work and commiserate with him that his lot was not as exciting. But at lunch hour and after work was over for the day, Bob found a chance to investigate the outside work. It was fascinating. Along one side of the valley the river had been forced by means of a temporary dam into an artificial channel, called the spillway, so that the river bottom where the dam was to be built should be clear of water. From the river bed rose the rough foundations of the permanent dam.,"All right, Mary," he agreed, his hand on the door-latch.，"I delivered the missage to Hinter. And whin I returned to me cabin I found everythin' in a jumble, an' no mistake. Somebody had scattered the furs on me bunk and turned everythin' upside down, they had, an' they had sought underneath the flure, too."，Patricia stamped her foot in vexation. "What do you mean?" she cried. "You're the most exasperating——"，"I do hope they like it and won't be too hard on me," she thought, as she hastened on. "It took a lot of trouble to make all the little figures, but if they'll only let me off from speechifying, I'll feel it was worth it.""That is what fickle people say. But what one feels one remembers."

"I expect they thought me beneath their notice, and, as they wouldn't hate me, they were forced to love me. Of course they treated the idea of paying up as a good joke, and spoke a great deal about a most unpleasant person called Griffith and his valuation, whatever that may be. So I saw it was of no use, and threw it up,—my mission, I mean. I had capital shooting, as far as partridges were concerned, but no one dreamed of wasting a bullet upon me. They positively declined to insert a bit of lead in my body. And, considering I expected some civility of the kind on going over, I felt somewhat disappointed, and decidedly cheap.",Jaggard saluted and vanished, while his master walked up and down the room, fuming at the loss of the curiosity. He had all the talk to himself, for Maurice, whose mind was busy with conjectures as to Dido or Dr. Etwald being the thief, did not think it necessary to speak. In a few minutes Jaggard returned with the news that none of the servants had been in the smoking-room that evening.,Once more a gesture of assent.,"Madam," said he softly, "after so lively a conversation with your Royal but unrevealed visitor, have you no word for me—no look——","He is a very impertinent old man, and why he should call here to see me when he knows that every day I am within a stone's throw of his office, I cannot tell. He'll get his head broke if he troubles you, sir.","I am very glad," says Mona, in a low tone.,Mrs. Wilson started so at his words that she rammed the cake of soap into Anson's mouth.,To Bob’s great disgust his first job was not out on the construction work. Whiskers had turned him over to Mr. Taylor, who set him to work in the draughting room. All day long he sat on a stool, and did simple sums: endless multiplications and divisions of figures that came from the blue prints made by the engineers. It was stupid work and had in it little of the romance which he had always associated with the work he was to do. However, he comforted himself with the thought that if it were not necessary, the Chief would never set him at it.,"I take it it's machinery an' stuff for a saw-mill," answered Billy moodily. "Is it?",The approaching terror had drifted into the shadow again. Suddenly, so near that it fairly seemed to scorch the frowsy top of the sapling to which he was hanging, a weird blue light twisted upward almost in Billy's eyes. At the same moment a tiny hoot-owl, sleeping off its early evening's feed in the cedar close beside the boys, woke up and gave a ghostly cry. It was too much for overstrained nerves to stand. Billy felt Fatty's form quiver and leap even before his agonized howl fell on his ears—a cry which he and Maurice may have echoed, for all he knew.,"Will you now sing us a song, Mr Lawrence?" exclaimed Captain Acton.,“Oh, Miss Gordon, here’s my name,” announced Betty, excitedly, pointing to a central part of the quilt. “An’ here’s yours right clost to it.”.