The Real Lost Souls Don't Wear Their

The Canadian Is Often A Baffled Man Because He Feels Different From His British Kindred And His American Neighbours, Sharply Refused To Be Lumped Together With Either Of Them, Yet Cannot Make Plain His Difference.

To Resent And Remember Brings Strife; To Forgive And Forget Brings Peace.

In Spite Of Recent Jazzed-up One-day Matches, Cricket To Be Fully Appreciated Demands Leisure, Some Sunny Warm Days And An Understanding Of Its Finer Points.

But The Point Is, Now, At This Moment, Or Any Moment, We're Only Cross-sections Of Our Real Selves. What We Really Are Is The Whole Stretch Of Ourselves, All Our Time, And When We Come To The End Of This Life, All Those Selves, All Our Time, Will Be Us - The Real You, The Real Me. And Then Perhaps We'll Find Ourselves In Another Time, Which Is Only Another Kind Of Dream.

To Say That These Men Paid Their Shillings To Watch Twenty-two Hirelings Kick A Ball Is Merely To Say That A Violin Is Wood And Catgut, That Hamlet Is So Much Paper And Ink.