But he
soon learned to lift his hat and to shake hands. At intervals I gave him
set lessons on manners, and, if he behaved nicely, we had a game at
cricket in my queer old garden. It was almost impossible to make Teddy
understand the morality of any game at first. When he learned that the
ball must not touch his wicket, his treatment of my slow bowling was
positively immoral. I did not mind his kicking the ball out of the way,
nor did I object to his using his bat like a scoop; but when he lay down
in front of the wicket, and sweetly smiled as the ball touched his
stomach, I had to insist on severe cricketing etiquette. As the nights
darkened in I took to amusing myself more and more with Teddy, and
sometimes I did not go out to the Chequers at all. The boy was a severe
trial to me when he learned to play draughts. When once the fundamental
laws of the game dawned on his mind, and he understood that he must try
to reduce the number of my pieces, he thought that any means were
justified if he could be successful.
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