[The sporting instinct is now so keen among girls that a man who
gallantly moderates his hitting in mixed hockey is merely regarded
as an _incapable slacker_ by his fair opponents.]
When first I played hockey with Kitty,
I was right off my usual game,
For she looked so bewitchingly pretty
When straight for the circle she came;
As a rule I'm not backward, or chary,
Of hitting and harassing too,
But who can be rough with a fairy--
Not I--so I let her go through.
She scored, and we couldn't get equal;
The others all thought me a fool,
And Kitty herself, in the sequel,
Grew most unexpectedly cool.
They gave us a licking, as stated,
I was sick at the sight of the ball,
She thought me a lot over-rated,
And wondered they played me at all.
But she frankly approved Percy Waters,
Who uses his stick like a flail,
And always impartially slaughters
Both sexes, the strong and the frail;
A mutual friendliness followed,
I watched its career with dismay--
Next match-day my feelings I swallowed.
And hit in my orthodox way.
I caught her a crunch on the knuckle,
A clip on the knee and the cheek,
She said, with a rapturous chuckle,
"I see--you weren't trying last week."
Such conduct its cruelty loses
When it brings consolation to both,
For after she'd counted her bruises
That evening we plighted our troth.
* * * * *
[Illustration: AN ALARMING THREAT.--_Miss Dora_ (_debating her stroke_).
"I have a great mind to knock you into the bushes Mr. Pipps!"
[_Mr. Pipps (who is a complete novice at the game) contemplates instant
flight. He was just on the point of proposing, too._
]
* * * * *
[Illustration: LADIES AT HOCKEY
(_From an old Print._)]
* * * * *