A HARD-LUCK YARN.
While reposin' one day in me leisurely way, a-puffin' a wicked cheroot,
I happens to spy with a glance of me eye a gent in a major league suit.
"I know who ye are—you're a major league star," says I, "or you once used to be."
"Well, jigger me neck, but your dope is correck," was the answer he handed to me.
I happens to spy with a glance of me eye a gent in a major league suit.
"I know who ye are—you're a major league star," says I, "or you once used to be."
"Well, jigger me neck, but your dope is correck," was the answer he handed to me.
And he mutters, says he: "I've a story for ye
Which I want ye to put in the paper for me.
Which I want ye to put in the paper for me.
'Twas quite a while back, if me dope is exack, when I was a bloomin' recruit;
I had just busted in from a minor league bin, with a try at a major league suit,
When the followin' tale, which will make you turn pale, happened one day to me in a game;
And I think you'll agree when you hear it from me, that I wasn't hardly to blame.
I had just busted in from a minor league bin, with a try at a major league suit,
When the followin' tale, which will make you turn pale, happened one day to me in a game;
And I think you'll agree when you hear it from me, that I wasn't hardly to blame.
'Twas the opening fray of the season that day, and the bases was full as a goat;
And the pitcher he smiled in a manner which riled as I swallowed a lump in me throat;
And he winged one across with a deft, easy toss, and it bubbled along at me waist;
And I swung till me back give a horrible crack, but I give it a terrible paist.
And the pitcher he smiled in a manner which riled as I swallowed a lump in me throat;
And he winged one across with a deft, easy toss, and it bubbled along at me waist;
And I swung till me back give a horrible crack, but I give it a terrible paist.
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