THAT FOOT-BALL.
An Athletic Father's Lament.
What was it made me cricket snub,
And force my seven sons to subsidize a local "Rugby" Club?
That Foot-ball!
Yet, what first drew from me a sigh,
When TOM, my eldest, missed a "try,"
But got instead a broken thigh!
That Foot-ball!
What in my second, stalwart JACK,
Caused some inside machine to crack,
And kept him ten months on his back—?
That Foot-ball!
What brought my third, unhappy TED,
To fade and sink, and keep his bed,
And finally go off his head?—
That Foot-ball!
My fourth and fifth, poor JOHN and JIM,
What made the sight of one so dim?
What made the other lack a limb?
That Foot-ball!
Then FRANK, my sixth, who cannot touch
The ground unaided by a crutch,
Alas! of what had he too much?
That Foot-ball!
The seventh ends the mournful line,
Poor STEPHEN with his fractured spine.
A debt owe these good sons of mine,
That Foot-ball!
And as we pass the street-boys cry,
"Look at them cripples!" I but sigh,
"You're right, my friends. But would you fly
A lot like ours; uh, do not try
That Foot-ball!"