An Idaho Ball

2119

"Kill him! kill the umpire!" shouted some one on the stand. And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signalled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew,
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and the echo
answered, "Fraud!"

But a scornful look from Casey, and the audience was awed; They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,

And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lips, his teeth are clenched in
hate,

He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh! somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are
light;

And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children

shout,

But there is no joy in Mudville-mighty Casey has struck

out.

Ernest Lawrence Thayer [18

AN IDAHO BALL

GIT yer

little sage hens ready,

Trot 'em out upon the floor-
Line up there, you cusses! Steady!
Lively, now! One couple more.
Shorty, shed that old sombrero;
Bronco, douse that cigarette;
Stop that cussin', Casimero,

'Fore the ladies! Now, all set!

S'lute yer ladies, all together!
Ladies opposite the same—
Hit the lumber with yer leathers!
Balance all, an' swing yer dame!
Bunch the heifers in the middle;
Circle stags an' do-se-do!
Pay attention to the fiddle!

Swing her round an' off you go!

First four forward! Back to places!
Second follow-shuffle back!
Now you've got it down to cases—
Swing 'em till their trotters crack!
Gents all right a-heel-and-toein'!
Swing 'em, kiss 'em if you kin-
On to next an' keep a-goin'

Till you hit yer pards ag'in!

Gents to center; ladies round 'em,
Form a basket; balance all!

Whirl yer gals to where you found 'em!
Promenade around the hall!

Balance to yer pards an' trot 'em

Round the circle double quick!

Grab an' kiss 'em while you've got 'em-
Hold 'em to it if they kick!

Ladies, left hand to yer sonnies!
Alaman! Grand right an' left!
Balance all, an' swing yer honeys—
Pick 'em up an' feel their heft!
Promenade like skeery cattle-
Balance all an' swing yer sweets!
Shake yer spurs an' make 'em rattle!

Keno! Promenade to seats.

Unknown

PART V

POEMS OF PATRIOTISM, HISTORY

AND LEGEND

"HOW SLEEP THE BRAVE"

How sleep the brave, who sink to rest
By all their country's wishes blest!
When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,
Returns to deck their hallowed mould,
She there shall dress a sweeter sod
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.

By fairy hands their knell is rung;
By forms unseen their dirge is sung;
There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay;
And Freedom shall awhile repair
To dwell, a weeping hermit, there!

William Collins [1721-1759]

MY COUNTRY

AMERICA

My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,

Of thee I sing;

Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrims' pride,
From every mountain-side
Let Freedom ring.

My native country, thee,
Land of the noble free,—
Thy name I love;

I love thy rocks and rills,
Thy woods and templed hills;
My heart with rapture thrills
Like that above.

Let music swell the breeze,
And ring from all the trees

Sweet Freedom's song;
Let mortal tongues awake,
Let all that breathe partake,
Let rocks their silence break,-
The sound prolong.

Our fathers' God, to Thee,

Author of liberty,

To Thee we sing;

Long may our land be bright
With Freedom's holy light;

Protect us by Thy might,

Great God, our King.

Samuel Francis Smith [1808-1895]