We were lately in the Marylebone district of London for ten days, and on one evening about, I don’t know, three or four million cricket fans passed beneath our window on their way back from the “Lord’s Cricket Ground” nearby. They all seemed in good humor, even though, as I gathered, Australia had prevailed that afternoon. Hours earlier, we caught a portion of the match as we dined in a pub.

I watched. I did not comprehend. “The Second Skoosh has splashed a niblit against the Aussies’ farmastrudle. The Beemisk will hurl the next fimswish once the Fitzvigger has advanced to the final woggletit.” And so on. But I must say, it looked fascinating, and while I never anticipated this, I feel an impulse to learn enough about cricket to be able to sit through a match with at least an elementary level of comprehension.

cordially,