Arizona republican., 1899-05-10
CASEY AT THE BAT.
Regular Annual Publication of the Epic
 of the National Game.

OI I16 INEtIlO1dl (Reprinted in response to many and persistent requests.) It looked extremely rocky for the Bos-
 ton nine that day; The score stood two to four, with but
 an inning left to play. So, when Cooney died at second, and
 Burrows did the same, A pa!lor wreathed the features of the
 patrons of the game. A struggling few got up to go, leaving
 there the rest, With that hope which springs eternal
 within the human breast. Fer they thought: 'If only Casey could
 get whack at that" They'd put up even money now, with
 Casey at the bat. But Flynn preceded Casey, and like
 wise so did Blake, And the former was a pudd'n,' and the
 latter was fake. So on that stricken multitude a death
 like silence sat, For there secmed but little chance of
 Casey's gettin' to the bat. But Flynn let drive a single" to the
 wonderment of all, And the much despised Blakey "tore
 the cover of the ball" And when the dust had lifted, and they
 saw what had occurred, There was Blakey safe at second, and
 Flynn a-huggin' third. Then, from the gladdened multitude
 went up joyous yell, It rumbled in the mountain tops, it
 rattled in the dell; It struck upon the hillside and re-
 bounded on the flat; For Casey, mighty Casey, was advanc-
 ing to the bat There was ease in Casey's manner as
 he stepped into his place, There was pride in Casey's bearing and
 a smile on Casey's face; And when responding to the cheers he
 lightly doffed his hat, No stranger in the crowd could doubt
 twas Casey at the bat. Ten thousand eyes were on him as he
 rubbed his hands with dirt, Five thousand tongues applauded when
 he wiped them on his shirt; Then when the writhing pitcher
 ground the ball into his hip Defiance glanced in Casey's eye,
 sheer curled Casey's lip. And now the leather-co sphere
 came hurtling through the air, An Casey stood awatchin' it in
 naughty grandeur there Close by the sturdy batsman the bail
 unheeded sped; That ain't my style,'' said Casey
 Strike cne,'' the umpire said. From the benches black with people,
 there went up a muffled roar, Like the beat of storm waves on the
 stern and distant shore; 'Kill him! kill the umpire!" shouted
 some one on the stand; And it's likely they'd have killed him
 had net Casey raised his hand With a smile of Christian charity great | Casey's visage shone; He stilled the rising tumult, he made | the game go cn; He signa1ed to the pitcher. and once |
 more the spheroid flew; But Casey still ignored it, and the um-
 pire said Strike twol' Fraud" cried the maddened thou
 sands, and the echo answered | ''Fraudi" But one scornful lock from Casey and | the audience was awed; They saw his face grow stern and cold, | they saw his muscles strain And they knew that Casey wouldn't let | the ball go by again. The sheer is gone from Casey's lips, his | teeth are clenched in hate, He pounds with cruel vengeance his |
 bat upont he plate; And now the pitcher holds the ball,
 and now he lets it go, And new the air is shattered by the l force of Casey's blow. Oh, somewhere in this favored land the | sun is shining bright, The band is playing somewhere, and | somewhere hearts are light; And somewhere men are laughing, and
 somewhere children shout, But there is no joy in Boston; mighty
 Casey has struck out Ernest L. Thayer