BASE-BALL BALLADS.
Who thinks he's got it beat all right, all right;
While thousands clamor: "Hit the dirt, there—slide!"
When over all the tumult, far and wide,
The umpire shrieks, "You're out!" in mad delight.
While thousands clamor: "Hit the dirt, there—slide!"
When over all the tumult, far and wide,
The umpire shrieks, "You're out!" in mad delight.
So I got mine in true O'Loughlin style:
Just when I thought the game would be a tie
Her old man yelled, "You're out about a mile,"
And waved me back with murder in his eyes.
"I'm acting umpire in this park," says he;
"So don't you pass no funny talk with me."
Just when I thought the game would be a tie
Her old man yelled, "You're out about a mile,"
And waved me back with murder in his eyes.
"I'm acting umpire in this park," says he;
"So don't you pass no funny talk with me."
VII.
So moves life's game wherever we may go;
At every base some umpire stands and waits—
A delegate shipped earthward by the fates—
Who has it in for players here below.
We drive one safe inside three feet or so;
The robber umpire struts around and states
That "it went foul." We know his eyes ain't mates;
But "foul" it stands, and so the score books go.
So moves life's game wherever we may go;
At every base some umpire stands and waits—
A delegate shipped earthward by the fates—
Who has it in for players here below.
We drive one safe inside three feet or so;
The robber umpire struts around and states
That "it went foul." We know his eyes ain't mates;
But "foul" it stands, and so the score books go.
But I ain't through. Perhaps in nineteen eight,
If I can act like Tyrus Cobb at bat,
I'll get a chance to sign a running mate
And pitch my park within a two-room flat.
Five thousand per might clear her old man's vision
And make him change that other bum decision.
If I can act like Tyrus Cobb at bat,
I'll get a chance to sign a running mate
And pitch my park within a two-room flat.
Five thousand per might clear her old man's vision
And make him change that other bum decision.
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