_Football._ Pooh! If I'm kicked you're spanked. The foot of GUNN Hurts less than does his bat. Pray is it fun To bide O'BRIEN'S buffet? Have you scored After two hours--at Hastings--with big FORD? GRACE thumps you for nine Centuries in one season, And after _that_ you crow with little reason! _Cricket Ball._ Oh, GRACE and GUNN lay on to me _in love_, FORD'S "gentle tap," O'BRIEN'S "friendly shove" Hurt not my feelings more than a slight slap From rosy fingers hurts an amorous chap. But you stand kicks _for halfpence_. Question it? Well, just you read about the Football Split And the two rival Unions! _Football._ That's all fudge. The North is of true Sport the truest judge! How about GRACE'S Testimonial? _Cricket Ball._ _Not_ A sample of the Hunting of the Pot, But a free tribute to a sportsman prime, Who plays the game right through, and laughs at Time. But rowdyism and mere greed of gain Will spoil the noblest sport. I speak with pain. _Football._ You spheric Pharisee! Don't sniff and brag, Go join the Bat in his green winter bag! A hum-drum hibernation is your doom, The winter season's mine, for me make room! _Cricket Ball._ Alas! 'tis true! Retirement is my lot. The bright green sward, blue skies, and sunshine hot, September sees an end of. I rejoice The Surrey Cricket Club has given its voice Against the money-mania that would make The Oval turf a frozen swampy lake, Pounded by heavy-footed Football cracks, Galloping "forwards," elephantine "backs." It makes me shudder on my shelf to think Of that green sward, smooth-surfaced as a rink Where sturdy ABEL cut and drove amain, And RICHARDSON sent "rippers" down like rain; Where the white-flannel'd fielders sometimes flopped, While saucy Surrey sparrows pecked and hopped,-- To think of it all trampled, pounded, ploughed, By fierce footballers, whilst a furious crowd Howled in a hideous ring. _Football._ Oh, shut up, do! The S. C. C.'s are an old-fashioned crew, Who soon will find they are not up to date, And they'll be sorry--when perhaps too late. Football's a manly sport for Titan lads! _Cricket Ball._ But spoiled by huckster cliques and noisy cads. _Football._ Cricket is slow, quite stodgy now and then. _Cricket Ball._ But 'tis a sport for friends and gentlemen. _Palemon Punch._