"Why does that man wear those things on his shins?" "How can we tell, when it's over, who wins?" "Which is the umpire? Tell me, George, please, And what do they mean when they call him a cheese?" "Isn't that Matty, that little boy there? What--that's the bat boy? Well, I do declare!" "Why do they throw to that man on first base?" "Hasn't that Indian got a fine face?" "What do they mean when they yell at each other?" "Don't you think Wiltse looks just like my brother?" "Can't I keep score just as well without paper?" "See Mister Latham, the way he can caper!" "Isn't this grand? I could come here at noon!" "Well, I declare! Is it over so soon?" Lady Bug, Lady Bug, feathers and fuss, Ask all the questions you want to of us. Maybe we'll kid you, but, please, don't you care; Baseball is better because you are there. POLO IN ARIZONA "How are you, pal?" said Phoenix Phil, when he saw me late last night; "I'm back from the polo game," said I, "let's go and get a bite." "These polo games are funny enough," said my Arizona friend, "With all their swell society folks and style without no end; But a polo game worth hiking sixty thousand miles to see Was a game we played on the desert once," said Phoenix Phil to me. "An English guy with an extra eye," said my Arizona friend, "Had taught us the game of polo, from beginning clean to end. The Prescott Kid on Old Katydid was the star we banked on most, For the Kid was cool as a pickle and fast as a midnight ghost. Old Katydid, Kid's pet bronco, was smarter than 'K. & E.,' Which is saying a lot for a bucking horse," said Phoenix Phil to me. "Well, the English guy with the extra eye picked a team of his English pals, And we played a game of polo for the Phoenix boys and gals. But the game ain't more than started when the Prescott Kid gets gay And into the thick of the playing he bucks with his outlaw gray. Them English was game as pebbles, but they broke and then they hid, Which wouldn't surprise you much, pal, if you saw Old Katydid. * * * _"Polo here in the East is fine, where hosses has pedigree, But Old Katydid was the break-up Kid," said Phoenix Phil to me._ THE LADDIES' LEAGUE The Grown-up Fan, a wealthy man, sat in his grandstand seat, Gray hair and worry for his head, gout for his puffy feet. Watching the New York Giants beat the Cincinnati team, He closed his eyes an instant and he dreamed a lightning dream. The horsehide spheres changed suddenly to battered ten-cent balls, And spotless uniforms of white became blue overalls.