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THE MERRY TENNIS GIRL.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

THE MERRY TENNIS GIRL.

Let others sound the praise of golf, and wander up and down
O'er rugged field and jagged ditch, and meadows green or brown;
I like to hear the many tales of their achievements grand,
And maybe when I get the time, I'll also take a hand;
But 'tisn't the game that always sets my eager blood awhirl;
And so, whatever comes, I'm still the jolly tennis girl—
The striking, skipping, jumping, screaming, merry tennis girl!
Let others wield the mallet in the sober, sad croquet.
And bend their backs and twist their arms the good old-fashioned way;
It's well a little while to tread the mazes of the arch,
And stoop around the sodded ground with slow and jerky march;

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But nought to me the flag of glee can e'er so far unfurl
As just to take my racket out, and be a tennis girl—
A twisting, romping, dodging, leaping, merry tennis girl!
As swift as thought the facile ball goes leaping to and fro—
There is no time for partners wise to tell you “where to go”;
And “vantage in” and “vantage out” are easy things to change,
And long disputes in mid career are very rare and strange;
And so, as long as I a ball can with my fingers twirl,
I'm going to keep my racket-hand, and be a tennis girl—
A patient, watchful, agile, docile, screaming tennis girl!