Cricket Songs — Reading Notes

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In Category - Adventure Picaresque Fiction

Authors: Gale, Norman, 1862-1942 Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2014 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: Cricket -- Poetry Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 8,140

Reading time 36 min

Text sections 2

Before opening Cricket Songs — Reading Notes, the edition data offers a quick orientation: 8,140 words, 36 min estimated reading time, and 2 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 20.1 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Cricket -- Poetry,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #47354

Norman Gale's 1894 collection of cricket poems, mixing light verse with specific references to players like W.G. Grace and George Lohmann, and using a distinctive gendered personification of the cricket ball.

Editorial Edition Score 4.5/5

★★★★★ ★★★★★

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Description quality20 pts
Title & short description10 pts
Source metadata20 pts
Text length15 pts
Chapters / structure15 pts
EPUB file integrity20 pts

Total of 100 points, scaled to a 2.5-5.0 range. Editions with an empty description or a missing EPUB file are not scored.

Edition quality

File: pg47354

Read the Text

36 ESSEX STREET, W.C.

Edinburgh: T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty

These Cricket Songs are dedicated to all Rugby Boys in general, and to John and William Denton in particular

Four years ago the author of this book issued a slender volume of cricket songs. Seven of these are now reprinted; the rest are new.

The cricket ball, for the most part, is spoken of as a female. Once or twice the neuter gender is used. _Varium et mutabile semper femina._

It is hoped that the introduction of the names of prominent players (and one critic) will cause no vexation.

Apologies are tendered to Mr. Moore and Mr. Shakespeare.

Lightning (Greased) 18

Golf steals our Youth 20

Quinquaginta Annos Natus 28

The Church Cricketant 34

The Hope of Surrey 53

England _v._ Australia 59

Cricket on the Hearth 61

The Last Ball of Summer 66

Grass begins to grow, Winds to be more civil, Rollers press the pitch For to make it level: Thrushes pipe a stave In the budding thicket; Snowdrops point to pads, Crocuses to Cricket!

Soon will stand the Slip Crouching for a capture; Soon the slogger slog Fours and fives in rapture! Soon the curly lob Find its love, the wicket; Snowdrops point to pads, Crocuses to Cricket!

Urchins in the road Bowl with oblong pebbles, Sending to each mate Bursts of happy trebles: In the words of slang, Summer is the ticket! Snowdrops point to pads, Crocuses to Cricket!

When Stoddart makes her hum, Up at _Lords_, Till the bowler bites his thumb, Up at _Lords_, How the Middlesex supporters Turn vociferous exhorters As he jumps on Lockwood's Snorters, Up at _Lords_!

When Stoddart makes her hum Up at _Lords_, And my country cousins come Up at _Lords_ With their looks as sweet as honey, And their exclamations funny, I am prodigal of money Up at _Lords_!

When Stoddart makes her hum Up at _Lords_, And the Surrey Skipper's glum Up at _Lords_, Oh! all my odds are even, And (I hope to be forgiven) 'Tis a truly Cricket Heaven Up at _Lords_!

O very potent little word, 'Out!' How often have we sadly heard 'Out!' When stupid umpires surely sin, Just as to settle we begin, And say, in place of saying 'in,' 'Out!'

Though I am Captain of the team, 'Out!' Though I in doubt may gravely seem, 'Out!' Though I have barely scored a run My average goes down with one, And other Bats must have the fun-- 'Out!'

I see Jones laugh behind his hand-- Out! Next match, by Jove, the brute shall stand Out! Our cousin, Lydia Lake, is here, And in her eyes I would appear A Swell; _hinc illae_--Jones's sneer-- Out!

Ah! lucky Jones begins to hit Out! Another four! I wish he'd get Out! I see him look where Lydia sits To note if she applauds his hits-- She does! She'll burst her gloves to bits!-- Out!

Yet why should I be Jones's butt, Out? I have a plan that chap to cut Out! What boots it thus to mope, my soul? I go to sit by Lydia. Scowl, O Jones, for you, methinks, I bowl Out!

One wicket to fall and a round fifty runs Waited for still: As well to imagine that twice twenty tuns Go to a jill! O Jones, be contained if you worship your school, Block her and snick; But punch her to leg if she's handy; keep cool; Lay it on thick!

She comes up full pitch now and then, so look out; Dust her along! And go like a hare if you notice me shout-- Wait for the song! Tom Emmett will chaff ev'ry chap in the team-- Jolly old Brick!-- If we funk like young misses of sugar and cream; Lay it on thick!

Go big at those lobs like a lusty old Jones, Give it 'em hot! They break; get in front with your bundle of bones, Leg is the spot! Take guard. Oh, well banged! There's a four to begin, See, they are sick! Another! Another! we're going to win-- Lay it on thick!

It's all very well For Reginald Dibbs, Who hasn't been hit By a ball in the ribs And one on the shin To shout, 'Rub it in!'

What cheek of R. Dibbs, Who, you know, is a sneak, To scream to you there In his high treble squeak, So strident and thin, 'O Jones, rub it in!'

I wonder if Dibbs, When I punch him to-night, Will think it was wise, Or thoughtful, or right, To caper and grin, And yell, 'Rub it in!'

Continue Reading →

Norman Gale's Cricket Songs (1894) opens with a preface that casually notes a peculiar stylistic choice: 'The cricket ball, for the most part, is spoken of as a female.' This gendered personification recurs throughout the collection, as in 'Up at Lords' where 'Stoddart makes her hum.' The poems blend technical cricket terms—'lob,' 'screw,' 'snorter'—with colloquial exclamations and a conversational tone that often addresses the reader or a specific player. The first poem, 'In Spring,' establishes a seasonal rhythm, linking natural imagery ('Snowdrops point to pads, / Crocuses to Cricket!') to the anticipation of the game.

The Ball as a Female Presence

Gale's preface explicitly states that the cricket ball is 'spoken of as a female,' and this choice shapes the collection's voice. In 'Up at Lords,' the ball is 'her' when Stoddart 'makes her hum,' and the bowler 'bites his thumb' in frustration. The poem 'Chuck Her Up' uses the imperative to address the ball directly. This personification extends to the ball's behavior: it is 'curly,' 'greased,' and 'lightning.' The effect is to animate the object, making it a capricious partner in the game's drama. Readers should note how this gendered language interacts with the male-dominated world of the poems—players are referred to by surname, while the ball is feminine, creating a subtle dynamic of pursuit and contest.

Named Players and Local Allegiances

Gale anchors his poems in real cricket figures of the 1890s. 'The Hope of Surrey' is a plea for George Lohmann to return from Cape Town, addressing him directly: 'Surrey wants you—come again! / England wants you—cross the Main!' 'On the Spot' celebrates W.G. Grace as 'the King of Cricket,' describing his ability to stop a 'Gloucester Rot.' 'England v. Australia' features 'The Champion Grace' smiting 'the Terror's reign.' These references are not mere decoration; they ground the poems in specific matches and loyalties. The preface apologizes for 'the introduction of the names of prominent players (and one critic),' suggesting that some names may have been contentious. For a modern reader, these names anchor the collection in a particular historical moment, and the poems function as a kind of sporting journalism in verse.

Comic Misfortune and the Braggart's Fall

Several poems dwell on the humiliation of being dismissed cheaply. 'Out' begins with the exclamation 'O very potent little word, 'Out!'' and narrates a captain's frustration at being given out by a 'stupid umpire' while a female spectator, Lydia Lake, watches. 'Bombastes' tells of a boastful youth who is twice bowled by a 'beastly lob,' and the poem ends with a curse on 'ev'ry braggart talking big' to 'Secure the Double Duck.' The repeated refrain—'Bowled by a beastly lob, confound it!'—mimics the exasperation of the defeated. These poems use a light, rhyming meter to turn personal failure into a shared joke, and they rely on the reader's familiarity with cricket's rituals of shame and recovery.

Seasonal Structure and the Game's Endurance

The collection is framed by the seasons. 'In Spring' opens with grass growing and 'Rollers press the pitch,' while 'The Last Ball of Summer' closes the volume. 'Cricket on the Hearth' moves indoors: 'When red-nosed Winter takes the road... Let's make a circle round the blaze / And talk of stumps.' This poem introduces a grandfather who 'crumped the bowling, swift or slow' in his youth, now telling stories. The seasonal cycle suggests that cricket is not confined to summer but lives on in memory and conversation. Gale's poems often look backward or forward in time, creating a sense of continuity. The final poem's title implies an ending, but the hearthside scene promises that the game will be replayed in narrative.

Gale's Cricket Songs rewards a reader who pays attention to its named players, its gendered ball, and its comic set-pieces. The poems are short and meant to be read aloud; the rhymes and refrains invite performance. Because the excerpts are incomplete, the full collection may include additional voices or variations in tone. Approach these songs as occasional verses—specific to their time and place—and listen for the way they turn cricket's small dramas into lasting, playful music.

Those old cricket poems—how they loved to give the ball a voice, playful and defiant. Reading them, I felt the same salt-spray longing I get from Norman Gale’s sea verses. There is a quiet kinship in how both evocations treat nature as a lively companion. Songs of Sea and Sail — Context and Discussion brought that feeling back, gently, like a remembered tide.