Who like to dally on the streets and play the game of craps?

“Is it that you enjoy the work of carrying a bag

While others speed the festive ball o’er valley, hill, and crag?

And do your spirits never seem to falter or to flag?

“I’ve watched you many a day, my lad, and puzzled o’er the fact

That you are so attentive to the game; your every act

Doth indicate perfection—there’s been nothing you have lacked.

“And I would know just why it is that you so perfect seem—

In all my golfing days you’ve been the very brightest gleam—

Or am I lying home in bed and are you just a dream?”

“Oh, sir,” said he, “I caddy here because I love my pa;

I cling unto these gladsome links because I love my ma;

In short, I love my parents, sir, and these my reasons are:

“’Twas but a year ago, good sir, when first this ancient sport

Came in the portals of our home—home of the sweetest sort;

When golf came through the window, sir, why home went through the port.

“My father first he took it up, and many a weary night

My mother with us children waited up by candle-light,

In hopes that he’d return and free us from our lonely plight.

“Then mother she went after him—alas! that it should be—

 Prev. P 31/63 next