Wit and Humor of America, The Vol 06

<h2>CASEY AT THE BAT</h2> <h3>BY ERNEST LAWRENCE THAYER</h3> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It looked extremely rocky for the Mudville nine that day:<br/></span> <span class="i0">The score stood four to six with just an inning left to play;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And so, when Cooney died at first, and Burrows did the same,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A pallor wreathed the features of the patrons of the game.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">A straggling few got up to go, leaving there the rest<br/></span> <span class="i0">With that hope that springs eternal within the human breast;<br/></span> <span class="i0">For they thought if only Casey could get one whack, at that<br/></span> <span class="i0">They'd put up even money, with Casey at the bat.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">But Flynn preceded Casey, and so likewise did Blake,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But the former was a pudding, and the latter was a fake;<br/></span> <span class="i0">So on that stricken multitude a death-like silence sat,<br/></span> <span class="i0">For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">But Flynn let drive a single to the wonderment of all,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the much-despis&egrave;d Blaikie tore the cover off the ball;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And when the dust had lifted, and they saw what had occurred,<br/></span> <span class="i0">There was Blaikie safe on second and Flynn a-hugging third!</span><span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_1149" id="Page_1149"></SPAN></span><br/></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Then from the gladdened multitude went up a joyous yell,<br/></span> <span class="i0">It bounded from the mountain-top, and rattled in the dell,<br/></span> <span class="i0">It struck upon the hillside, and rebounded on the flat;<br/></span> <span class="i0">For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place,<br/></span> <span class="i0">There was pride in Casey's bearing, and a smile on Casey's face;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,<br/></span> <span class="i0">No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Then, while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Defiance glanced in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped:<br/></span> <span class="i0">"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;</span><span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_1150" id="Page_1150"></SPAN></span><br/> <span class="i0">"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted some one in the stand.<br/></span> <span class="i0">And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;<br/></span> <span class="i0">He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;<br/></span> <span class="i0">He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But Casey still ignored it; and the umpire said, "Strike two."<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and the echo answered, "Fraud!"<br/></span> <span class="i0">But the scornful look from Casey, and the audience was awed;<br/></span> <span class="i0">They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched with hate;<br/></span> <span class="i0">He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But there is no joy in Mudville&mdash;mighty Casey has struck out.<br/></span> <span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_1151" id="Page_1151"></SPAN></span></div> </div> <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />