The customary Monday list of football casualties is published again today.
Of football played in divers lands Rules vary, so one understands. With some the game is passing mild; In other lands it grows so wild That bits and scraps of players strew The field long ere a game is through. But here, the sport as I insist, Is tamer. See this morning's list. Far o'er the distant Khyber Hills They play a game that's full of thrills On rules once framed, it seems to me, By one lamented Rafferty. Each player bears a long, shap knife Involving some light loss of life. But here the sport, I must insist, Is softer. See this morning's list. In Hindu Koosh they play the game With vim and dash that's far from pain. Gouging and throttling, so I've heard, Are methods very much preferred -- A wise economy with all: They need no umpire and no ball: But here the sport, as I insist, Is duller. See this morning's list. In darkest Afric hinterlands They bear knob-kerries in their hands To bash each other on the beam. But otherwise the sport is clean. Yet I consider all the same We play a much more girlish game. For here the rules, as I insist, Discourage homicide -- see list.
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