Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, February 15, 1915, Page 2

Tvy Kept one slender finger between the leaves of her book. “I'm perfectly well,” she replied. “That must be beef- she 12Tt USS 100 with & Tush; nedded 11tErestsd, KNA 1aughea 152N the Yight | yn the direction of her own bedroom. places. But Ivy didnt need to pre-| Pa Keller treated himself to & prodi- tend. Rudie Schlachweiler spelled glous wink and went out to the vege- 5 1 "Nfii!“'axmd Ivy, continuing | to play, but turning & spiri | toward her father. “What e Whenever a player pitches rotten By EDNA FERBER This is not & baseball story. The grand stand does not rise as one man and shout itself hoarse with joy. There 1sn’t a three-bagger in the entire three thousand words, and nobody is carried home on the shoulders of the crowd. For that sort of thing you need not squander fifteen cents on your fa- wvorite magazine. The modest sum of one cent will make you the possessor of Pink 'Un. There you will find the season's games handled in masterly fashion by a six-best-seller artist, an expert mathematiclan, and an original- slang humorist. No mere short story dub may hope to compete with these. In the old days, before the gentry of the ring had learned the wisdom of investing their winnings in solids in- stead of liquids, this used to be a favorite conundrum: When is a prize fighter not a prize fighter? Chorus: When he is tending bar. 1 rise to ask you, Brother Fan, when is a ball player not a ball player? Above the storm of facetious replies I shout the answer: ‘When he's a shoe clerk. Any man who can look handsome in a dirty baseball suit s an Adonis. There is something about the baggy pants, and the Micawber-shaped collar, and the skull-fitting cap, and the foot or so of tan, or blue, or,pink under shirt sleeve sticking out at the arms, that just naturally kills a man's best points. Then, too, a baseball suit re- quires so much in the matter of leg. ‘Therefore, when 1 say that Rudie Schlachweiler was a dream even in his baseball uniform, with a dirty brown streak right up the side of his pants where he had slid for base, you may know that the girls camped on the grounds during the season. During the summer months our ball park is to us what the Grand Prix is to Paris, or Ascot is to London. What care we that Evers gets ten thousand & year (or is it a month?); or that Chicago’s South side ball park seats thirty-five thousand (or is it million?). Of what interest are such meager items compared with the knowledge that “Pug” Coulan, who plays short, goes with Undine Meyers, the girl up there in the eighth row, with the pink dress and the red roses on her hat? When “Pug” snatches a high one out of the firmament we yell with delight, and even as we yell we turn sideways to look up and see how Undine is taking it. Undine's lhlnln_g_ eyes !.!_ofly__dgn “Pug” and he knows it, stoops to brush the dust off his dirt-begrimed baseball pants, takes an attitude of careless grace and misses the next play. STOPTHAT COUGH Don’t let BY HENLEY AND HENLEY FOR SALE IN LAKELAND “You're Going to the Ball With Me.” Game Our grand stand seats almost two thousand, counting the boxes. But only the snobs, and the girls with new hats, sit in the boxes. Box seats are comfortable, it is true, and they cost only an additional ten cents, but we have come to consider them undemo- cratic, and uuworthy of true fans. Mrs. Freddy Van Dyne, who spends her winters in Egypt and her summers at the ball park, comes out to the game every afternoon in her automobile, but she never occupies a box seat; so why should we? She perches up in the graud stand with the rest of the en- thusiasts, and when Kelly puts one over she stands up and clinches her fists, and waves her arms and shouts with the best of ‘'em. She has even been known to cry, “Good eye! Good eye!” when things were at fever heat. The only really blase individual in the ball park is Willle Grimes, who ped- dles ice cream cones. For that matter, 1 once saw Willie turn a languid head to pipe, in his thin voice, “Give 'em a dark one, Dutch! Give 'em a dark one!” Well, that will do for the first dash of local color. Now for the story. Ivy Keller came home June 19 from Miss Shont's select school for young ladies. By June 21 she was bored limp. You could hardly see the plaits of her white tailored shirt waist for fraternity pins and secret society emblems, and her bedroom was ablaze with college banners and pennants such an extent that the maid gave notice every Thursday—which was up- stairs cleaning day. For two weeks after her return Ivy spent most of her time writing letters and waiting for them, and reading the classics on the front porch, dressed| in a middy blouse and a blue skirt, with her hair done in a curly Greek effect like the girls on the covers of the Ladies’ Magazine. She posed against the canvas bosom of the porch chair with one foot under her, the oth- er swinging free, showing a tempting thing in beaded slipper, silk stocking, and what the story writers call “slim ankle.” On the second Saturday after her return her father came home for din- ner at noon, found her deep in volume two of “Les Miserables.” “Whew! This is a scorcher!” he ex- claimed, and dropped down on a wick- er chair next to Ivy. Ivy looked at her father with languid interest, and smiled a daughterly smile. Ivy's fa ther was an insurance man, alderman of his ward, president of the Civie Improvement club, member of five lodges, and an habitual delegate. It generally was he who introduced dis- tinguished guests who spoke at the opera house on Decoration day. He called Mrs. Keller “Mother,” and he ‘wasn't above noticing the fit of a gown on a pretty feminine figure. He thought Ivy was an expurgated edition of Lillian Russell, Madame De Stael, and Mrs. Pankhurst, “Aren’t you feeling well, Ivy?" he asked. “Looking a little pale. It's the heat, I suppose. Gosh! Something smells good. Run in and tell mother I'm here,” - baseball to her. She did not think of as a good-looking young man ; in a blue serge suit white shirt- | Even as e Saw ! the | steak and onions: Ugh!” And she shuddered, and went indoors. Dad Keller looked after her thought- fully. Then he went in, washed his hands, and sat down at table with Ivy and her mother. “Just a sliver for me,” said Ivy, “and no onions.” Her father put down his knife and fork, cleared his throat, and spake thus: “You get on your hat and meet me at the 2:45 interurban. You're going to the ball game with me.” r“‘ a game!” repeated Ivy. “I? But HH i 1 \ of pitchers just before they | muth-lrhnlmmi called, 7113 §§E§fl Ma “Yes, you do,” interrupted her fa-; “lyy I don’t like that ball player | ther. “You've been moping around eoming here to see you. The neigh- here looking a cross between Saint porgn talk” ’ Cecilla and Little Eva long enough.; Tpe third time Rudie called, Pa Kel- I don’t care if you don’t know & spit- jer gajd: “What's that guy doing here ball from a fadeaway when you see it. ggain?” You'll be out in the air all afternoon,! The fourth time Rudie called, p.l and there'll be some excitement. All goller and Ma Keller said, in unison: the girls go. You'll like it. They're «Tnis thing has got to stop.” playing Mashalitown.” But it didn’t. It had had too good ! Ivy went, looking the sacrificial lu.mh.l a start. For the rest of the season Ivy | Five minutes after the game Was ne; her knight of the sphere around | called she pointed one tapering white the corner. Theirs was a walking | finger in the direction of the pitcher’s courtship. They used to roam up as | mound. i vo i i f ! far as the state road, and down as far | “Who's that?” she asked. as the river, and Rudie would fain | Pitcher,” explained Papa Keller, pqyq talked of love, but Ivy talked of ' laconically. Then, patiently: “He pagepall. | th::)w-nlhe ball.” v | “Darling,” Rudie would murmur, | 4 h,” said l:'y. ‘What did you 82y pressing Ivy’s arm closer, “when did | : name was? 4 . you first begin to care?” | 1 didn't say. But it's Rudie!” «why | Jiked the very first game I Schlachweiler. The boys call him g when dad—" Dutch. Kind of a pet, Dutch is.” “I mean, when did you first begin ' “Rudie Schlachweiler!” murmured ¢, care for me?” i vy, dreamily. “What a strong name!” | " «gpy When you put three men out “Want some peanuts?” inquired her 4, ¢nat game with Marshalltown when | Tl the teams were tied in the eighth in- | i D°,';.' ning. Remember? Say, Rudle dear, | o S what was the matter with your arm ! Tt ain’t hardly legal if you dont”| ¢54ay? You let three men walk, and | Pa Keller assured her. Albia’s weakest hitter got a home run Two sacks,” said Ivy. “Papa, Why ¢ of you.” do they call it a diamond, and what ~ «gp “forget baseball for a minute, | are those brown bags at the corners, ryy) Let's talk about something else. | and what does it count if you hit the ygi's talk about—us.” ! ball, and why do they rub their hands | " «yrg? Well, you're baseball, aren’t | , in the dust and then—er—spit on them, ' v, 9 petorted Ivy. “And if you are, jand what salary does a pitcher get, and why does the red-haired man on I am. Did you notice the way that the other side dance around like that Ottumwa man pitched yesterday? He between the second and third brown ' didn’t do any acting for the grand bag, and doesn’t a pitcher do anything Stand. He didn’t reach up above his but pitch, and wh—?" head, and wrap his right shoulder with | “You're on,” said papa. | his left toe, and swing his arm three After that Ivy didn’t miss a game; times and then throw seven inches during all the time that the team Outside the plate. He just took the played in the home town. She went | ball in his hand, looked at it curlous- without a new hat, and didn’t care ' 1Y for a moment, and fired it—zing!— whether Jean Valjean got away with like that, over the plate. T'd get that the goods or not, and forgot whether h“} it 1 were you. you played third hand high or low m! Isn't this a grand night?” mur- bridge. She even became chummy 'm‘:"‘d Rudie. with Undine Meyers, who wasn’t her| “But they didn't have a hitter in the kind of girl at all. Undine was thin ' bunch,” went on Ivy. “And not a man in & voluptuous kind of way, it such}in the team could run. That's why a paradox can be, and she had red | they're tail-enders. Just the same, that lips, and a roving eye, and she ran ' Man on the mound was a wizard, and eround downtown without a hat more If he had one decent player to give than was strictly necessary. But Up. Mm some support—" dine and Ivy had two subjects in com-| _ Well, the thing came to a climax. mon. They were baseball and love. On® evening, two weeks before the It is queer how the limelight will make ©l0se of the season, Ivy put on her hat heroes of and announced that she was going Now “Pug” Coulan, who was red-| downtown to mail her letters. baired, and had shoulders like an ox,| 'Mail your letters in the daytime,” and arms that hung down to his knees, l’rgwloa P_lll‘ Keller. like those of an orang-outang, -lnu;b', I”:‘d;l‘ lll“;: time today,” lln- jtered beeves at the Chicago stock ::':‘ m':' and J";.:.;‘m"; ) d It was then that Papa Keller e e e ind ia pnni | banged the heavy fit of decision down fa rip in them somewhere, hut‘,mu::i m:;"'. s 1 when he was on the diamond we were '..‘ ol Soviosiopl. Mehew almost ashamed to look at Undine, so d"":' Saset Bave Ruyi ki pf Joing wholly did her heart shine in her eyes. b "h°, EINIA itk N ERTL pIRTST Now, we'll have just another dash understand? Now you quit seeing this oF twn' ot ToskT 65165 16 & saiall town seventy - five - dollar-a-month bush the chances for her«; worship are few. A l’:‘“" o le:ve this house. I mean it.* It it weren't for the traveling men our l hotAclll;}‘h't"rll'l‘::vlw‘l ::? n:.:::;:' i girls wouldn’t know whether stripes or tnndut. kind of 2 angeliced. with checks were the thing in gent's suit-| poohon ol ‘d’ b4 ings. When the bateball season opened ' ow icing, and you know the girls swarmed on it. Those that | Jou "o MY fudges cant be equaled. dido’t understand baseball pretended | He'll be playing in the major league in they did. When the team was out of | three years. Why just yesterday there town ‘ol fik ot kienting. was, TS strange man at the game—a city changed from, “Good morning!” or' man, you could tell by his hatband and “Howdy-do!” to “What's the score?” the way his clothes were cut. He Every night the results of the games Stayed through the whole game, and throughout the league were posted up ' Dever took his eyes off Rudie. I just on the blackboard in front of Schlag- know he was a scout for the Cubs.” er's hardware store, and to see the| “Probably a hardware drummer, or way in which the crowd stood around & fellow that Schlachweller owes it, and streamed across the street to- | money to.” | ward it, you'd have thought they van' Ivy began to pin on her hat Al giving away gas stoves and hammock , scared look leaped into Papa Keller's couches. | eves. He looked a little old, too, and Going home in the street car after drawn, at that minute. He stretched the game the girls used to gaze ador- | forth a rather tremulous hand. ingly at the dirty faces of their sweat-| “Ivy—girl,” he said. begrimed heroes, and then they'd rush | ‘What?” snapped Ivy. i home, have supper, change their| *“Your old father's just talking for | dresses, do their hair, and rush down- | your own good. You're breaking your . town past the Parker hotel to mail ; ma's heart. You and mh“am‘oodi their letters. The baseball boys | DPals, haven't we?” ! boarded over at the Griggs house,| “Yes,” sald Ivy, grudgingly, and which is third-class, but they used ; without looking up g g £ one eat peanuts at a ball | ure approached them smiling a mer- table garden in search of mother. The team went out on the road, lost fl“mm 1'“ll t':'\,:n: c::: h:::; | weiler was & bum pitcher. Anybody in place. illow wand, on { could hit him with 8 W ” lounged around the Pnrkr:rd:‘:":::"d » windy day, with the sun in his eyes. | held up the street corne! wh, it took many farewell drinks, then, slow- 00D FACTS ABOUT CHOLERA | 1y, by ones and twos, theydlen for th; | , an s, wats = Superstition Has Added to Ravages of Dread Disease—How Rooks gent's furnishing stores from whence they came. : October came in with a blaze of Were Affected. Cholera has usually found & use- sumac and oak leaves. Ivy e:lul’o: learn: ke Vv ! " spple. e e w ful ally in superstition. In the old days the disease was believed to lie bottled and apple ples. The worry ;lnel aroun face be to deep- vy said tat o't up in volcanoes and to be released by eruptions. The most effectual way to | en. Ivy said that she didn’t believe avold it was to sleep in bed with your that she cared to go back tomnlllin 3 es. . i s head due south. In Russia during the : | terrible epidemics six years ago the October 31 came. e " H MOrTow, h’:v::"l‘:::k": 'il:;" e peasants would not trust the d:cwr: f “All right,” said Ivy. whom they actually accused o‘ clr:l 1 i “Do you know where he works?” | ing the disease, but drank a fearful | asked he. ! mixture of tar, resin and petroleum as “No,” answered Ivy. preventives, and fired guns from the “That'll be all right. I took theldoors and windows to scare the chol- era away. What spreads the disease | along the caravan routes of Asia is ' trouble to look him up last August.” The short November afternoon was the habit of washing dirty clothes in ; the drinking wells. ! drawing to its close (as our best talent would put it) when Ivy and her father walked along the streets of Slaters-| Rooks were the birds whose conduct | in connection with the cholera was ob- | served in Ireland in 1832, According ville. (I can’t tell you what streets, because I don't know.) Pa Keller brought up before a narrow little shoe ¢; the contemporary Dublin Morning | Register, immediately the cholera came all the birds vanished from the shop. “Here we are,” he said, and ushered Ivy in. A short, stout, proprietary flg- ;ookery in the Marquis of Sligo’s de- | mesne, one of the largest in Ireland. cantile smile. }"Far three weeks, during which the “What can I do for you?” he in-' gisease raged violently, these noisy quired. | tenants ot the trees completely desert- Ivy’s eyes searched the shop for & ¢q their lorty habitations. Jp.the mean- tall, golden-haired form in a soiled ! baseball suit. | “We'd like to see a gentleman named Schlachweiler — Rudolph Schlach- weiler,” sald Pa Keller. “Anything very special?” inquired the proprietor. “He's—rather busy just now. Wouldn't anybody else do? Of course, if—" “No,” growled Keller. The boss turned. “Hi! Schlach- weiler!” he bawled toward the rear of the dim little shop. i “Yessir,” answered a muffled voice. “Front!” yelled the boss, and with- drew to a safe listening distance. A vaguely troubled look lurked in | the depths of Ivy’s eyes. From behind the partition of the rear of the shop emerged a tall figure. It was none oth- er than our hero. He was in his shirt- sleeves, and he struggled into his coat a8 he came forward, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, hurriedly, and swallowing. I have said that the shop was dim. Ivy and her father stood at one side, their backs to the light. Rudie came forward, rubbing his hands together in the manner of clerks “Something in shoes?” he politely inquired. ‘Rhen he saw. “Ivy!—ah—Miss Keller!” } claimed. Then, awkwardly: “Well, how-do, Mr. Keller. I certainly am | glad to see you both. How's the old town? What are you doing in Slaters- ville?” “Why—Ivy—" blunderingly. But Ivy clutched his arm with a; warning hand. The vaguely troubled ! look in her eyes had become wild- 1y so. “Schlachweiler!” shouted the voice . of the boss. “Customers!” and be | you'll always hear him howling about the support he didn’t get. Scl Therz is no Getting Away From It-- Our Laundry Work he ex-! R. W. WEAVER, Prop. began Pa Keller, i Bindedrd waved a hand in the direction of the fitting benches. “All right, sir,” answered Rudie. “Just a minute.” 19 “Dad had to come on business,” | said Ivy, hurriedly. “And he brought ' me with him. I'm—I'm on my way to ! ( lean school in Cleveland, you know. Aw- | : fully glad to have seen you again. We ' . Right must go. That lady wants her shoes, I'm sure, and your employer is glar- ing at us. Come, dad.” At the door she turned just in time to see Rudie removing the shoe from the pudgy foot of the fat lady cus tomer. i . | . We'll take a jump of six months. That brings us into the lap of April. ! Pa Keller looked up from his eve | ning paper Ivy, home for the Easter vacation, was at the plano. Ma Keller was sewing. ! Pa Keller cleared his throat. “I see by the paper,” he announced, “that | Schlachweiler's been sold to Des | Moines. Too bad we lost him. He was a great little pitcher, but he ! played in bad luck. Whenever he was Large PEEPPHEBIBLEPIPILODPE CHOOSOOCHIO SIS TIS 0SS0 YOUR EYES Are worth more to you than most any other part of the body. When you feel them growing tired, hurting, smart- or drowsy, think of Cole & Hull for your glasses. We do our own lense grinding, all broken lenses duplicated. “A PLEASURE TO SHOW GOODS.” COLE & HULL Jewelres and Optometrists Lakeland, Fla. @ 0B00RONCEORCRCECEORORCRCBBIRBONN their tooth-picks and held the post- mortem of the day’s game out in front of the Parker hotel, which is our lead- ing hostelry. The post office receipts record for our town was broica dur- Ing the months of June, July and Au- gust. Mrs. Freddy Van Dyne started the trouble by having the team over to dinner, “Pug” Coulan and all. After all, why not? No foreign and impe- cunious princes penetrate as far inland as our town. They get only as far as New York, or Newport, where they are gobbled up by many-moneyed matrons. If Mrs. Freddy Van Dyne found the supply of available lions limited, why should she not try to content herself with a jackal or so? Ivy was asked. Until then she had contented herself with gazing at her hero. She had become such a hard- 1 | “Well now, look here. I've got a | proposition to make to you. The sea- | son's over in two more weeks. The: last week they play out of town. Then the boysll come back for a week or 80, just to hang around town and try to get used to the idea of leaving us. Then they’ll scatter to take up their winter jobs—cutting ice, most of ‘em,* he added, grimly. “Mr. Schlachweiler is employed in a large establishment in Slatersville, Ohio,” said Ivy, with dignity. “He re- gards baseball as his profession, and he cannot do anything that would af-| fect his pitching arm.” Pa Keller put on the tremolo stop ‘and brought a misty look into his eyes. “Ivy, you'll do one last thing for your old father, won't you?” “Maybe,” answered Ivy, coolly. 3 T8 TEVenUE Polics Toung numbers of them lying deag shore near Erris, about tep oy tant. Upon the decline of the within the last few days, gy, the old birds have again appe the nelghborhood of the fw::,' some of them seemed unapje ' exhaustion, to reach their Degty: T, Information. It was a very fashiong d the artists very wel| know t the two young things Vene b with picking out thej es to hear the music. the midst of a beautity tion the pianist suddeniy hands from the keys ang ong of young things was heard clearly: “1 wonder if that hair ig p The old man who sat was slightly deaf, but he tury a benevolent smile. “No, miss,” he imparteq p, “that 18 Schubert’s.”—py Press. —_— Material Art, “What a velvet voice that gy “Yes, and she sings only ty, lar rags.” He Saw, First Business Man—To et you attribute your success? Second Business Man—To t, that 1 was always first at thy For 17 years I caught the ¢:5 town. First Business Man—Ab, [ g due to your early training.—(q Jester. is RIGHT, and we get it there ON TIME too. The Lakeland Steam Laundry PHONE 13 Fresh Groceries Store Price Good Service Stock Yours to Please iD. B. Dickso ened baseball fan that she followed the ! game with a score card, accurately jot: ting down every play, and keeping her watch open on her knee are shown by the young man who|| She sat next to Rudie at dinner. Be- purchases diamonds for his “Just} fore she had nibbled her second salted One Girl.” Diamonds never grow i‘ml‘]ond hz K:‘l:; ol Rudh|e &;heb cheaper. Thay 3avé an weller unders each other. ' Rudie vu!u:e that mlin ‘theel: o::‘::c‘!:e]‘ illustrated certain plays by drawing best investments in the world. Come .“::-l:: m::;::::.:.‘?n::l::‘:: see our showing. You will find a her soup to grow cold. stone here that will please your The first night that Rudie called, Pa taste and fit your price limit no mat. ter what it may be. Conner & O’Steen Postoffice Next Door to Us “Don’t make that fellow any prom- ‘ises. Now, wait a minute! Let me ' get through. I won’t put any crimp in | your plans. I won't speak to Schlach- weiler. Promise you won't do any- thing rash until the ball season’s over. Then we'll wait just one month, see? Till along about November. Then if, you feel like you want to see him—" “But how—" | “Hold on. You musta't write to him, or see him, or let him write to you during that time, see? Then, If you feel the way you do now, I'll take you to Slatersville to see him. Now, that's fair, ain’t it? Only don’t let him know h you're coming.” It Was None Other Than “M-m-m-yes,” said Ivy. SRR K Qur Hero. “Shake hands on it d. Th boys seemed to IF YOU HAVE The Building Bee in Your Bonnet Let It Buzz! Let It Buzz! e huzz sy is o WISDOM AND GENEROSITY T S iy predminary 10 - decisive acrton, Use good judgment in the selection of location: plans, contraetor and Lumber and Building Material And You'lljNot Get Stung! w Lakeland Manufacturing Company . LAKELAND, FLORIDA ’