THE SKELETON'S CONFESSION

(On Friday morning, April 20, 1886, a skeleton was dug up from beneath the Yale College campus. The remains are unidentified, as history gives no account of a burial on that historic sward — New Haven Dispatch.)

"SPEAK! Speak! Thou bony find,
That without flesh or mind,
Shakes in the April wind,
What is thy hist'ry?
Dressed not in English clothes,
But with thy slender toes
Lying in calm repose,
Ten us thy mist'ry!

"Wast thou a Freshman old
Whose deeds, though manifold,
Seemed to be much too bold
To upper classmen?
Mayhap a tutor, thou,
Killed in a lively row,
When, as might happen now,
You would not 'pass' men?"

III

Then from the fleshless freak
Came a peculiar squeak,
And he essayed to speak
Of his lost glory.
With a strange, haunted look
Out from his ribs he took
What seemed to be a book —
Then told his story.

"I was an umpire, friend;
And, if your ears you'll lend,
You'll learn the bitter end
That overtook me.
First came an awful yell.
Eggs then about me fell —
'Tis a sad tale to tell —
'Tis awful, look thee.

"'Twas when baseball was young,
Ere flippant bards had sung
How the swift sphere is flung
Down to the batter.
I knew the game right well,
And, though 'tis I who tell,
No better umpires yell —
But then, no matter!

"'Twas a great game that day,
Warm was the student's play —
Would I had been away
Far from that college!
For when they 'judgment' asked
I was severely tasked,
And they at once unmasked
My lack of knowledge.

VII

"I had not seen the ball
When the swift runner's fall
Made all the players call:
'Hi! is he out?'
Wild was the guess I made;
Startled and half afraid,
'Safe' was the word I said
Then wheeled about.

VIII

"Loud was the shout that rang,
As in grave fear I sprang,
Having no wish to hang,
And quickly scooted.
But he who seeks to beat
Yale men in fever heat
Cannot effect the feat
If badly booted.

"Not long the race that day.
Firmly prepared to slay,
Giving no time to pray,
They cut my lung out.
Such was my awful fate;
Under the hard home plate
Placed they my heavy weight,
Where I had sung out."

So closed the umpire's tale,
While I turned deadly pale
At the deep, mournful wail
That he delivered.
And, as I turned to go
Far from that frame of woe,
"Judgment" he cried, so low
That I cold-shivered.

(THE END)

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