A shudder ran around Forbes Field When Tyrus Cobb stole home. The brain of Honus Wagner reeled When Tyrus Cobb stole home. Manager Clarke his temples clasped, The Pirate rooters simply gasped-- Their tenderest feelings had been rasped When Tyrus Cobb stole home. The Pirate pitcher's heart stood still When Tyrus Cobb stole home. Gibson, the catcher, had a chill When Tyrus Cobb stole home. Large gobs of smoke began to crawl Across the ball yard, like a pall, And gloom was brooding over all When Tyrus Cobb stole home. The rooters from Detroit went mad When Tyrus Cobb stole home. A very pleasant time was had When Tyrus Cobb stole home. Small wonder that they shouted so; In Hughey Jennings's town, we know, The burglar list is sure to grow Since Tyrus Cobb stole home. LIFE AND BASEBALL Winter howled around the corners of the old-time grocery store, Where the baseball star was sitting, giving out his baseball lore. Every day he told the neighbors in his little Western town How he hit the curves of Matty and the shoots of Miner Brown. "No, I ain't signed up this season," he would tell the gaping throng, "And I won't sign boys, believe me, till the check looks good and strong. John T. Brush knows where to find me, and he knows I'll play the game When I get a good fat contract"--but the contract never came. "Maybe I'll go South to Texas," said a gawky young recruit, "If the contract that they send me names a salary that will suit. Why, they're crazy for new talent; all the papers tell me so, And your little Uncle Dudley isn't out to skip the dough. I can play that third sack, fellows, just as well as Devlin can, And I won't take half a paycheck, when I'm every inch a man. When I get my kind of contract, I'll jump out and grab the fame, Not till then will I get busy"--but the contract never came. Life is but a game of baseball, with its players everywhere; Some are sulking in their wigwams, some are out to do and dare. Some are working, working, working, turning labor into fun; Others talk of future conquests, and depart with nothing done. Far beyond the clouds and sunlight dwells a magnate wondrous kind, With a million, million contracts always waiting to be signed. Yours, my friend, the task of trying; yours alone the bitter blame, If you tell, when life is ebbing, how the contract never came. WHAT HAPPENED TO HILO Horatio Hilo was a bird, He used to romp from first to third On any kind of single. He played the sun-field like a master, You never saw a fielder faster, And oh, how he could bingle! Horatio Hilo played out West, Where man develops to his best, And Eastern scouts all watched him; They trailed him through the month of June, They said, "Him for the big league soon," And finally they cotched him.