Poetry is not always the possession of the mart and street, but in
the case of a favored few who write, there is this high compliment of
approval, as the following suggests:
Walter Camp was talking about football at a dinner at the New
York Athletic Club.
“Had we not reformed our football,” he said, “it would have
fallen into grave disrepute--into such grave disrepute as
surrounded cricket and football both during the Boer War, when
Kipling wrote his poem about
“‘The flannel fools at the wicket,
The muddied oafs at the goal.’
“That poem hit the English ‘footers’ hard. One of the English
‘footers’ during their visit to us told me how he was walking
one day to his club in football clothes, when a newsboy hailed
him.
“‘Paper, sir?’
“The footballer walked on; whereupon the boy yelled after him:
“‘Yah, ye muddied oaf! Like as not ye can’t even read!’”
(2397)
=Poet’s Insight=--See VIEWPOINT, THE.