Madame Eulalie’s Rare Plums

“AM I slack?” said a youth. “No such thing.
I can’t hit a bird on the wing:
I’m no good at cricket:
As for football, can’t stick it:
But I’m hot stuff at kiss-in-the-ring.”

A puzzled young fellow at school
Said “I used to be called Flanneled Fool;
So I started to work,
And they now say I shirk.
I’m inclined to describe it as cool.”

There is a young fellow at Eton,
Whose slackness has never been beaten.
When invited to run,
He says, “No, dear old son.
Such foolishness I am not sweet on.”

Said a plucky young golfer, “D V
World’s Champion some day I shall be.
When I’m using my brassey,
Men whisper ‘That’s Massey!’”
(His handicap’s still twenty-three).

Said a strapping young man in the City,
“My play at golf used to be pretty,
And I’m active and strong:
But—I work all day long,
So I’m not good at games. More’s the pity!”

Said a youth, most disgracefully fat, “Enough!”
When told he did not bowl and bat enough:
“I know that my neck’s a size;
Still, as for exercise,
Well, I wind up my watch. Isn’t that enough?”