  You came down the field like a shaft from a bow The vision remains with me yet. I hastened to check you: the sequel you know: Alas! we unluckily met. You rushed at the ball, whirled your stick like a flail, And you hit with the vigour of two: A knight in his armour had surely turned pale, If he had played hockey with you. They gathered me up, and they took me to bed: They called for a doctor and lint: With ice in a bag they enveloped my head; My arm they enclosed in a splint. My ankles are swelled to a terrible size; My shins are a wonderful blue; I have lain here a cripple, unable to rise, Since the day I played hockey with you. Yet still, in the cloud hanging o'er me so black, A silvery lining I spy: A man who's unhappily laid on his back Can yet have a solace. May I? An angel is woman in moments of pain, Sang Scott: clever poet, he knew: It may, I perceive, be distinctly a gain To have fallen at hockey with you. For if you'll but nurse me (Come quickly, come now), If you'll but administer balm, And press at my bidding my feverish brow With a cool but affectionate palm; If you'll sit by my side, it is possible, quite, That I may be induced to review With a feeling more nearly akin to delight That day I played hockey with you. Mr. Punch high jumping. Golfer playing hockey. Major Bunker (who has been persuaded to join in a game of hockey for the first time, absent-mindedly preparing to drive). "Fore." Large lady in goal OUR LADIES' HOCKEY CLUB Miss Hopper cannot understand how it is she is always put "in goal." But really the explanation is so simple. There's no room for a ball to get past her. Rough game of hockey. Extract from Mabel's Correspondence. "We had a scratch game with the 'Black and Blue' club yesterday, but had an awful job to get any men. Enid's brother and a friend of his turned up at the last moment; but they didn't do much except call 'offside' or 'foul' every other minute, and they were both as nervous as cats!" Man surrounde by militant teams. OUR LADIES' HOCKEY CLUB One of the inferior sex who volunteered to umpire soon discovered his office was no sinecure. Man talking to lady as runners' pass. Hare and Hounds—and may their Shadows never grow less.—Mrs. Miniver. "How exhausted they look, poor fellows! Fancy doing that sort of thing for mere pleasure!" Little Timpkins (his bosom swelling with national pride). "Ah, but it's all through doing that sort of thing for mere pleasure, mind you, that we English are—what we are!" Runner questioning youth. HARE AND HOUNDS—AND DONKEY "Seen two men with bags of paper pass this way?"—"No!" "Did they tell you to say no?"—"Yes." Three ladies running laying a paper trail. Happy Thought. The good old game of "Hare and Hounds," or "Paper-Chase," is still played in the northern suburbs of London during the winter. Why should not young ladies be the hares? Ice hockey match. A MEETING OF THE "BANDY" ASSOCIATION |
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