Said the Managers: —William, the fight waxes hot,
Your rivals are gaining on you quite a lot,
There's Theodore raising a hullabaloo
And flinging a bunch of strong language at you.
We've got to do something, we're sorely distressed,
What method or means would you care to suggest?—
The president said, as he patted his tee;
I'll hole out in four, you just watch me and see!—

Said the Managers: "William, the outlook is dark,
That Candidate Wilson is making his mark,
The Democrats hopeful, united and strong,
Are simply determined to boom him along;
We've got to take action, and spring some surprise—
Now, what do you think it is well to advise?"
The President said to his caddie: "My lad,
The bunkers out here are decidedly bad!"

Said the Managers: "William, we're worried for fair,
We're simply distracted with wear and with tear,
Each day there's some renegade rips himself loose
From the poor G.O.P. for the might Bull Moose!
You're roasted and walloped in speech and in print,
Say, what shall we DO? Won't you give us a hint?"
Said the President, munching his Aunt Delia's pie:
"I think that last drive was a trifle too high."

Said the Managers: "William, pray listen, we came."
Said the President: "Boys, you are spoiling my game.
I've got a good lead on the links' bogey score"
Boy, give me my lofter-the newest one-Fore!

- Berton Braley

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