“Then mother she went after him—alas! that it should be—
And shortly learned the game herself—she plays it famously—
Which left us children orphans, I and all my brothers three.
“They play it here, they play it there, they play it everywhere;
No matter what the weather, be it wet or be it fair,
And for the cares of golf they’ve dropped their every other care.
“And so it is that we poor lads are forced to leave our home,
And join the ranks of caddy boys who o’er the fields do roam
In search of little golf-balls in the sunlight and the gloam;
“For some day we are hoping that our eyes again will see