A Ball Game by Carolyn Wells

There never was a place so bad
But one redeeming trait it had.

Now Harlem is no good at all
Save as a place for playing ball.

But there the boys will run and play
Their favorite game ‘most every day.

But, Reverend sir, ‘twould foolish be
To play, with your rheumatic knee.

And, Deacon, do not try, I beg,
To play the game with your game leg.

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