From eating Swift’s bologna,
She’s my freckled face, consumptive Mary Jane.
* * *
Casey’s Revenge
Did you ever hear that noted recitation, “Casey at the Bat?” Here’s a baseball soul with a more generous poetic disposition. He replies to the old classic, which, as you remember, ended with the mighty Casey striking out, and Glory-be, it sure gives us a thrill, and reminds us of our own Mudville nine. Heave ho to this “Curve”—
—By James Wilson.
There were saddened hearts in Mudville for a week or even more;
There were muttered oaths and curses—every fan in town was sore.
“Just think,” said one, “how soft it looked with Casey at the bat,