But Miss Amelia took such pride In all our study and our sport, That once I think she nearly cried When half our team got out for nought. She knew the secrets of the slips; And when a friend or foe played well A cheer came from her kindly lips That made a fellow feel a Swell! We loved to see her freckled face, We loved to hear her jolly fun; We searched her out a shady place, And clapped with her the stolen run. I loved her most of all the men, For Mother's eyes were such a blue; I loved her as a boy of ten Can love a girl of twenty-two! One day we played a rival team, And I made eighty-four, not out; I knew Amelia's face would beam, And sometimes heard her pretty shout! At night the Doctor sent for me And said my feat was not amiss; Miss James, though, took me on her knee And thanked me with a clinking kiss. BUTTERED Buttered again, by Jingo, Buttered again! Likely to make your lingo Awfully plain! Isn't it rough on the bowler, too, Doing his level to cram on screw? Easiest catches to three of the crew Buttered again! Stoddart dispenses stingo, Buttered again! Likely to make your lingo Awfully plain! Four to the Off and four to the On, One on the road to, at least, Hong Kong, One in the air to the ropes is gone-- Buttered again! Fate not fit for a dingo-- Buttered again! Likely to make your lingo Awfully plain! Bowl you yorker or bowl you a grub, Cover and Wicket your efforts snub-- Too much salad--Ah, there is the rub-- Buttered again! SPARKLING I'm not a good Cover I freely admit, And I'm not very handy at Point; I'm growing inert and no longer exert The nimble gymnastical joint: I cannot rejoice when a hurricane cut Contuses my shin with its crunch; When fielding to hitters my heart patters-pitters, But trust me to sparkle at lunch!-- I radiate freely at lunch. When Blair puts me Longstop without any pads, And delivers occasional Wides, My thumb is askew, and my bosom is blue, And bruises be-smother my sides! I cannot rejoice when a bail comes express Saluting my pate with a punch; Obesity quivers, there's wringing of withers, But trust me to sparkle at lunch!-- I radiate freely at lunch. The National Game is a tonic, I know, And a tonic is very good stuff; I wish, though, the ball were a little less small, And I wish that two pads were enough! I cannot rejoice when a Richardson comes And crumbles me up in a bunch! I never like tonic behaving cyclonic, Preferring to sparkle at lunch!-- I corruscate freely at lunch. 'DUCK'