Volume 99 — THAT FOOT-BALL.

What was it made me cricket snub, And force my seven sons to subsidize a local "Rugby" Club? That Foot-ball! Yet, what first drew from me a sigh, When TOM, my eldest, missed a "try," But got instead a broken thigh! That Foot-ball! What in my second, stalwart JACK, Caused some inside machine to crack, And kept him ten months on his back—? That Foot-ball! What brought my third, unhappy TED, To fade and sink, and keep his bed, And finally go off his head?— That Foot-ball! My fourth and fifth, poor JOHN and JIM, What made the sight of one so dim? What made the other lack a limb? That Foot-ball! Then FRANK, my sixth, who cannot touch The ground unaided by a crutch, Alas! of what had he too much? That Foot-ball! The seventh ends the mournful line, Poor STEPHEN with his fractured spine. A debt owe these good sons of mine, That Foot-ball! And as we pass the street-boys cry, "Look at them cripples!" I but sigh, "You're right, my friends. But would you fly A lot like ours; uh, do not try That Foot-ball!"