THE fullback bowed politely and made way For the opposing runner—and he said: "My friend, we know you need this touchdown, so Put on full steam, old boy, and go ahead!" The golfer mopped his red, perspiring brow, And murmured praise of Prohibition's way— "It is a blessing, after all, "he said, "There'll be no highballs on this torrid day!" The tout raised high his hand and took a vow— "I swear," quoth he—(oh such an honest face) "That, after this, I'll never tout the fish On more than one sure winner in a race!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |