Poem

ON THE NEW FOOTBALL GROUND.

 

The Alleynian, February 1899

 

As I was strolling through the field,
    I heard a sudden call come!
A silvery sound stole o’er the ground,
    A whisper—“Let ’em all come!”

I raised my eye (which I had fixed
    Upon a book of Coptic),
And close at hand a dauntless band
    Of diggers met my optic!

I watched them dig; I watched them rest,
    (Which happened rather often!)
And then I threw myself into
    The breach, their work to soften.

And oft did we, although disturbed
    By rain and wintry breezes,
Remove by force from off the course
    The weighty trunks of treeses!

To move a trunk that weighs a ton
    Demands no meagre caution;
And these were but a little bit
    From off the upper portion!

But now at last the deed is did!
    Our toil at length is ended!
With great success we’ve cleared the mess,
    And everything in the garden’s splendid!

P. G. W.

 

Reproduced from a Wodehouse retrospective article in Chums in 1933.