SONGS OF AN OVALITE.
There was a young man who said, "Hobbs
Should never be tempted with lobs;
He would knock them about
Till the bowlers gave out
And watered the pitch with their sobs."
There is no one so dreadful as Fender
For batmen whose bodies are tender;
He gets on their nerves
With his murderous swerves
That insist upon death or surrender.
When people try googlies on Sandham
You can see he will soon understand 'em;
With a laugh at their slows
He will murmur, "Here goes,"
And over the railings will land 'em.
I am always attracted by Harrison
When arrayed in his batting caparison;
If others look worried
He never gets flurried,
But quite unconcernedly carries on.
All classes of bowlers have stuck at
Their efforts to dislocate Ducat
Their wiliest tricks
He despatches for six,
Which is what they decidedly buck at.
You should never be down in the dumps
When Strudwick is guarding the stumps;
His opponents depart
One by one at the start,
But later in twos or in clumps.
"Like father like son," says the fable,
And is justified clearly in Abel
No bowling he fears
And his surname appears
An extremely appropriate label.
If I were tremendously rich
I would buy a cathedral in which
I would build me a shrine
Of a noble design
And worship a statue of Hitch