After the Ball is over? Nay, it is _never_ done! All the year round _some_ lover Keeps up the spheric fun! Ivory ball or leather, Someone will run or sprawl, Whate'er the hour or weather, After the Ball! Is't that our earth, which, after all, Itself's a "dark terrestrial ball," Robs all "sportsmen" of sober sense Within its "sphere of influence"? "Special Editions" just to record How many kicks at a ball are scored?!?! Doesn't it prove that we mortals all Have gone sheer "dotty"--After the Ball? _Chorus_-- After the Ball!--as batter, Handler of club, racquet, cue. Or kicker of goals--what matter? A Ballomaniac you! Each is as mad as a hatter, Who is so eager to sprawl, Scrimmage, scout, smash, smite, clatter, After the Ball! * * * * * THE HEIGHT OF COMFORT. _Q._ I want to consult you about Flats. You must know all about them, as you have tried this kind of "high life" for a year. And I am quite charmed with the idea of getting one. Now, don't you find that they have many advantages over the old-fashioned separate house system? _A._ Oh, a great many! _Q._ I suppose that even in such paradises a few drawbacks do exist? _A._ A few. For instance, did you notice, during your painful progress upstairs, a doctor coming out of the rooms just below us? No? Then you were fortunate. There's a typhoid case there, we hear. _Q._ Dear me! Now I think of it, I did meet a woman dressed as a hospital nurse. But she was coming down from somewhere above you. _A._ Yes. The people over our heads. It's a scarlet fever patient they have, I believe. We can hear the nurse moving about in the middle of the night. And chemists' boys with medicines call at our door, by mistake, at all hours. _Q._ Still, they can't get in. Your flat is your castle, surely? _A._ Quite so. It's a pity it isn't a roomier castle. Our bedrooms are like cupboards, and look out on a dark court. We have to keep the gas burning there all day. _Q._ Oh, indeed! But then, being on one floor, living must be much cheaper, because you can do with only one servant? _A._ That is true; but we find that the difficulty is to get servants to do with us. They hate being mastheaded like this; they miss the area, and the talks with the tradesmen, and so on. _Q._ But they must go downstairs to take dust and cinders away? _A._ No, those go down the shoot. At least, a good many of the cinders do, though some seem to stop on the way. Our downstair neighbours complain horribly, and threaten to summon us. _Q._ Do they? On the whole, however, you find your fellow-residents obliging? _A._ Oh, very! The landing window leads to some disputes. We like it open. The people upstairs prefer it shut. The case comes on at the police court next week. _Q._ You surprise me! Then, as regards other expenses, you save, don't you, by paying no rates?