Lawn-Tennis Lobs
(Served by Dumb-Crambo Junior.)
“The Sport of the Future”
[“The lawns that were erstwhile cumbered with tennis nets now bristle with croquet hoops, and the sedate mallet has driven out the frisky racquet.”—The World.]
Welcome, Reason, on the scene,
Milder influences reviving!
Far too long have pastimes been
Senseless, useless, arduous striving,
Brutalising men of strength,
Dangerous to those who lack it:
Lo! it speaks their doom at length—
The decadence of the racket.
Purged from customs fierce and rude
Soon shall sports become more gentle,
(As the grosser kinds of food
Yield the palm to bean and lentil),
Roller skates long since are “off,”
Tennis is no longer O.K.,
Rivals threaten even golf
As the fashion sets for croquet.
Hence, then, cricket, young and vain,
Football, fraught with brutal bustle,
You at Reason’s light shall wane—
Modern upstart cult of muscle;
So may purer tastes begin
All our fiercer games refining,
Till, when spelicans come in,
I may get a chance of shining.