FAREWELL TO BATS

Evening Post, Volume CX, Issue 72, 22 September 1930, Page 11

FAREWELL TO BATS

BARRIES LAST GAME

A CRICKET ENCOUNTER

PAVILION DEDICATED

Sir James Barrie ended his cricketing career when the AUahakbarries met the West of Scotland and '.'downed" them. Yet, in a senso it was an inglorious end to 40 years with bat and ball. Instead of boldly opening the Allahakbarrics' inuings, the author of "Peter Pan" contented himself with the relative security of "twelfth -man," says the Melbourne "Age." .

Sir James Barrio might have had a final hit if one of. the Kirriemuir men, or even of the co-opted. Australians —> Macartney and Mailey—had "gone sick." But they did not. But perhaps the most serious .shortcoming of Sir James Barrie lay in his failure to win tho toss for his eleven, toss-win-ning being a' feat which tho '' most youthful or the most elderly, captain may chance tv accomplish. However, I the- newly enrolled Allanakbarries from Australia ensured Sir James Barries team a final innings. Though Macartney took six!wickets for 29, the West of Scotland scored 120 runs, ■ extras accounting for 25. On the-"Thrums" ground 120 is accounted a highly respectable score, but the ■ Allahakbarries surpassed it; With three wickets down Sir James Barrio's team passed the West of Scotland, .total, Macartney having contributed 76 out of 121. Dusk was coming on, but the game continued long enough for Macartney to complete his century* When stumps were drawn the Allahakbarries passed into memory-L-nd, where they, are certainly assured of an abiding existence. ■...' But if Sir James. Barrie had less than his usual fortune with' bat, ball, and coin at "' "Thrums," he was in his best form as a man of sentiment. Ho was presented with the Freedom of Kirrieniuir, partook of cakes and wine with the municipal authorities, and then led the way to the cricket-ground on the hill of "Thrums," where he.had learned to love the game as a boy. Here Sir James had, built a brand new pavilion for the cricketers of, "Thrums," and he handed over the gift to his native town, together'with a speech in which .sentiment and eloquence wore wedded most happily, though, as he said, a speech could not be easy on "this hill of moinories,_ to people who. are more like me, inside, than any other/people are." AMONG HIS FOLK. "I have sometimes met .you—some of yo U — O a the brae, and thought for--a moment that you were my old friends, your parents, or grand-parents," he said. "They were so like you, but younger. Strongest link of all is that so many of your forebears now lie with mino in a sacred place close to this spot—only that wall separating us. In my lonely first year in London I began to write something about what might happen here on. the last day. , There had been some convulsions of nature, rumblings, portents. "The people hero on tho last day are your descendants—or perhaps they are yourselves, for it might happen tonight. They are afraid to go to rest. They huddle in their houses, or gather together in the churches. Up here, on the other side of -that wall, theearth loosens. Down in the.town a door opens, and someone enters who has not been there for a long time. There is a great concourse of others like him coming down the fields. None of them knows as yet that anything has happened. They are coming home as usual. When they open their doors they wonder who you are, and why at sight of them you have gone on your knees." But Sir James Barrie did not continue philosophising thus. He told of James Bobb and his split lip. Ho told of Howie's, his first school, where he stayed for exactly one day and then ran away. And, having told of James Kobb, and of Howie, the. schoolmaster, he told of Kobert Louis Stevenson and how he came to Thrums for fishing in the Noran. ■ "As Stevenson sat on the bank he heard some of his trout still wobbling in the basket. A scunner came over him, and he vowed, and he kept his vow, never to angle for trout again. He was about 18 at the time and I was seven. But, oh, why wasn 't I on the outlook for him, if only to carry his bag to the station? I suppose I was away with Bobb!" A BRIVA 'E WHISTLE. "Bobb and I," continued' Sir James Barrie, "used to. play together 'till mysterious night fell,' and then; tho one would accompany the other half way home. After we parted we whistled to each other to intimate that no doolie had got us- so far. It was a note- we had invented. No ontf could whistle it except ourselves. Distance and tho rugged things of life-,separated;, us'as the years rolled on; Vve seldom met again for nigh half a century. We had sworn eternal friendship, but the rope seemed to have snapped. Then, two years ago, I was here.on a sad errand, and the two. of us went, wandering away across the hill'through Caddam. Well, that day in- Caddam, I made a grand discovery—-that the great friend of my childhood was still the on© who was closest to me in my'doings.. I can't tell you what a pleasure and satisfaction that has been to me. During our walk in the wood Mr. Eobb said to me, gruffly, in case we got sentimental, you know: 'We used to have a private way of whistling to each other.' 'Did we?' I said, growling for the same reason. We were both so-.thrawn, you understand, that we should have fhchrered a Southerner. 'I could do it now,' he said.. 'Oh!' I said. 'I suppose you have. forgotten it?' said he. 'It was a long time ago,' I.said. 'Just so,' said he. But I could see by his face that he wished I had. remembered. I couldn 't keep it up any longer, so I joukit behind a tree and whistled our whistle. He jumped and whistled it back. All through Caddam Wood wo went, gaily whistling that 0 1 whistle." JUST AS GRAND. Sir James Barrio came back to the cricket-field on the hill and the new pavilion. His closing words were: <lOur site on the hill is as: grand .as Broad Ha'penny, the cradle of cricket, and the outlook is oiie of the fairest in our land. May doughty deeds be done here with bat and ball and at the goalposts. My. love of cricket began as 1 sat on the hill cheering the renowned Kilrie Club. I see them still, pausing at Charlie Wilkie's lodge to pick up their implements,. sometimes even Lcting me help to carry the cricket bag. The bats, I believe,; were made by Jock Wright, tho joiner. "Peter Lindsay was after my time, and, alas! I never saw him smite them. But I remember some of the players—yes, and their action at the crease, which lingers like music in my mind. Dundas, with his wily underhands; Morrison, our stylist; Doig, whom we welcome back to-day; Haggert, Stewart, Worlie, who was always out trying to make a six; Alec. Lowson. It is good to know that Mr. Lowson is with us still. May he often sit here and recall, as I do, how he used to mow the wickets down. Ladies and gentlemen, I now declare the pavilion open I for play.."