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Polo In Arizona

"How are you, pal?" said Phoenix Phil, when he saw me late last night;
"I'm back from the polo game," said I, "let's go and get a bite."
"These polo games are funny enough," said my Arizona friend,
"With all their swell society folks and style without no end;
But a polo game worth hiking sixty thousand miles to see
Was a game we played on the desert once," said Phoenix Phil to me.

"An English guy with an extra eye," said my Arizona friend,
"Had taught us the game of polo, from beginning clean to end.
The Prescott Kid on Old Katydid was the star we banked on most,
For the Kid was cool as a pickle and fast as a midnight ghost.
Old Katydid, Kid's pet bronco, was smarter than 'K. & E.,'
Which is saying a lot for a bucking horse," said Phoenix Phil to me.

"Well, the English guy with the extra eye picked a team of his English
And we played a game of polo for the Phoenix boys and gals.
But the game ain't more than started when the Prescott Kid gets gay
And into the thick of the playing he bucks with his outlaw gray.
Them English was game as pebbles, but they broke and then they hid,
Which wouldn't surprise you much, pal, if you saw Old Katydid.

* * *

"Polo here in the East is fine, where hosses has pedigree,
But Old Katydid was the break-up Kid," said Phoenix Phil to me.

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