Hence, then, cricket, young and vain, Football, fraught with brutal bustle, You at Reason's light shall wane-- Modern upstart cult of muscle; So may purer tastes begin All our fiercer games refining, Till, when spelicans come in, _I_ may get a chance of shining. [Illustration: LINE BALL] [Illustration: OUT OF COURT] * * * * * MORE LAWN TENNIS LOBS (_Served by Dumb-Crambo Junior._) [Illustration: A LET] [Illustration: 'VAUNT-AGE] [Illustration: SERVING CAUGHT] [Illustration: SCREW AND TWISTER] [Illustration: THE "WRENCHER (RENSHAW) SMASH"] [Illustration: SMART RETURNS.] * * * * * [Illustration: GOLDEN MEMORIES.--"I wonder why Mr. Poppstein serves with three balls?" "Old associations, I suppose."] * * * * * [Illustration: _Smith._ "Let me put your name down for this tournament?" _Jones_ (_who thinks himself another Renshaw, and doesn't care to play with a scratch lot_). "A--thanks--no! I'd _rather_ not!" _Smith._ "Oh, they're frightful duffers, _all_ of them! You'll stand a very fair chance! _Do!_"] * * * * * [Illustration: PROFESSIONAL JEALOUSY.--_Miss Matilda_ (_referring to her new lawn tennis shoes, black, with india-rubber soles_). "The worst of it is, they _draw_ the feet so!" _Our Artist_ (_an ingenuous and captivating youth_). "Ah, they _may_ draw the feet; but they'll _never do justice to yours_, Miss Matilda!" [_Sighs deeply._ ] * * * * * [Illustration: TRIALS OF THE UMPIRE AT A LADIES' DOUBLE _Lilian and Claribel._ "It was out, _wasn't_ it, Captain Standish?" _Adeline and Eleanore._ "Oh, it _wasn't_ out, Captain Standish, was it?"] * * * * * [Illustration: THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID _She._ "Would you mind putting my lawn tennis shoes in your pockets, Mr. Green?" _He._ "I'm afraid my pockets are hardly big enough, Miss Gladys; but I shall be delighted to _carry_ them for you!"] * * * * * [Illustration: _Excited Young Lady._ "Father, directly this set is over get introduced to the little man by the fireplace, and make him come to our party on Tuesday. _Her Father._ "Certainly, my dear, if you wish it. But--er--he's rather a scrubby little person, isn't he?" _Excited Young Lady._ "Father, do you know _who_ he is? They tell me he is the amateur champion of Peckham! I don't suppose he'll play; but if you can get him just to look in, that will be _something_!"] * * * * * [Illustration: A NICE QUIET GAME FOR THE HOME.--This is only a little game of "Ping-pong" in progress, and some of the balls are missing!] * * * * * [Illustration: PING-PONG IN THE STONE AGE] * * * * *