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The Captain of the Neversweats was rooted in his place,
One foot upon the tattered coat that served for second base;
His ashen-hued habiliments were padded, hip and knee
(The Captain of the Neversweats was all of three-foot-three);
A mighty mitt incased his paw; he spat upon the same
And chirped with shouted interludes, the Story of the Game:


"'Twas Sattid'y, a week ago, we played de Busy Bees;
Dey rung a borrered pitcher in, an' say! he wuz de cheese!
De way he handed pretzels out wuz putty near a crime;
He chucked dis curly inshoot-drop dat fools ye ev'ry time.
He'd held us down to forty hits, an' t'ings wuz lookin' blue,
Fer dey had fifty-seven runs, while we had t'irty-two.
He'd held us down to forty hits, an' runs wuz mighty rare;
But in de nint' we sized 'im up an' pasted 'im fer fair.


"Foist, Dumpy Collins found his coives an' knocked a corkin' fly;
Den Limpy picked a crackerjack an' smashed it in de eye;
Den Skeezicks hit de ball a swipe dat lifted off de lid;
An' Carrots ran de bags fer home, an' cricky! how he slid!
Dem Bees wuz stiffs! dey couldn't t'row, dey couldn't ketch at all,
While we wuz playin' fer our lives--we couldn't miss de ball.


"An' did we win? Well, did we! Say! Dey didn't git a smell.
We chased each udder roun' de bags--'twuz like de carrousel.
Why, w'en we put de las' man out an' added up de score
Dey hadn't only eighty runs, an' we had ninety-four!
What! Lick dese lobsters? Sure we kin, at any time o' year!
Jes' watch; we'll show ye how it's done. Hi, Cully! put 'er here!"