New Britain Herald Newspaper, September 17, 1924, Page 15

baseball poets are all wrong. It fsn't in the fillages that our national game blooms Into its loveliest, most delirious flower, i} No, Mr. Wiseman, No! Nor will you find the perfect blossom behind what used to be Fiegenbaum's brewery any more than you'll discover it back of Deacon Briggs' barn. Not on your box score! And it isn't in the big leagues nor in the bush leagues nor in ‘the scrub leagues nor anywhere else where ‘‘Organized Baseball'’ bas its financial finger i the funds, Not by 909 per cent! If you want to get the real flavor of baseball you've got to find half a dozen towns within a radius of fifteen miles, These towns have got to be small enough to keep out of the professional bounds. But nota bene, if you please, and likewise mark this well : Each town has got to be large enough to have a daily paper, a local cartoonist, a sllver cornet band, a public park, a fif and-drum corps, a hospital, a corking good male quartet, about 5000 public-spirited, high-stepping fans and a dramatic associa- tion to lift the annual deficit. Then you've got the ingredients for a baseball puddins—xp»m!—exceedin;l: rich to the taste, . ‘AT THE end of last season Farnham and Larabee found themselves tied for the championship of Washington County. And Farpham and Larabee hated each other with a hatred like sounding brass. There are three reasons why I can de- scribe that historic post-series better, per- baps, than any other mortal living. In the first place, I was editor of the Farnham Daily Record, the paper with the largest circulation in Washington County. Second count: I was the only left- banded pitcher in Farnham. And thirdly, for the reason of reasons, the same for which King Solomon wrote the Bong of Songs. The night before the action started I branded my memory with four burning words and called on Florence. I waited until ghe was untying the box of candy. Then suddenly I cleared my throat and got it off my chest. **Oh, I don't know, Joe," she said. *I haven't made up my mind yet." ‘‘Is there somebody else, then?’ Florence was hunting for a caramel. “Huh-hub,” she sadly sighed. ‘‘Five or six."” “And you liké 'em all ag well as me?"”’ T asked her; and I want to tell you that I had a pair of No. 12 pains kicking at my beart."” “N-no,"” said Flo. ‘Not all of them. There's one, though—'" ' ““You mean Doc Allen?"" Bhe didn't deny it. “Doc Allen of Larabee?’ I asked, open- ing the indignation stop when I came to the last word. “‘Joe,” said Florence in her quiet voice, losking down at me as the stars look down on a murder, ‘‘my mother was born in Lara- bee and all her folks live there. T had sense enough to back up, changing my tack to first come first served. ‘“*Has Doc Allen asked you, Flo?'' I gen- tly demanded. “‘He asked me last night.”" That was a hot one, ‘‘What—what did you tell him?" I stammered. “I told him I'd think it over, and he's going to call tonight.”” The doorbell rang; Florence answered it. She came back with Doc Allen, dern him, earrying the biggest box of candy that he had been able to find in his drug store, and though we shook hands, I would have given a year of my glorious future if I could have been writing his obituary, and I guess he'd bave given as much if he could have dosed me with a few choice boxes of his pills. Then Flo sprang it on us. HE couldn’t or she wouldn’t decide the question for herself. She was going to fasten it on fate. ““You pitch for the Larabee team, Billy," ghe said, “‘and Joe pitches for the Farnham bors. Well, if Larabee wins the series I'm going to say 'Yes' to Billy. And if Farn- bam wins I'm going to say ‘Yes' to Joe."” And as for Little Joe (that's me), Little Joe made the bumps stand out on his jaw like the wens on grandpa's head. “Farn- bam's going to win,”” I thought, “if it takes my hair off.V ¢ All the same, I knéw there was going to be some heavy lifting, for when I looked at Larabee's leading dispenser of drugs he was glaring at me like Sitting Bull just pre- vious to the scalping. The series started the next day. 'The team first winning two games in succession was to be voted the victor. And the open- ing game was to be played at Larabee. It was about six miles from Farnham to Larabee, and at 1 o'clock that afternoon you couldn’t see the road for dust. When I tell you that the Daughters of Deborah went over in & body you can begin to get some slight idea of the state of public opinion. The Knights of Daylight had wanted to go in full uniform, but when we thought of those eighty-five huskies with swords and helmets listening to the taunts of Larabee, | cooler counsel conquered. The Knights went in mufti, but they were easily distinguish- able by their proud and martial airs. Larabee had a crowd out to match our own and—think of it—their band didn’t have manners epough to shut up when our own band marched on the field. o, @f course, 'we went right on playing “The Conquering Hero'' avhile they tooted away at “The Star Spangled Banner."” And then, of course, the bands had to fight it out till the game was called, thus giving a double musical accompaniment to the taunts, the jeers, the gibgs and the gems of wit which were fiying around like crows at lanting time. - H-l(?p:f: two. “Bing!” rang a bell behind the grandstand. The umpire dusted the home plate with bis cap and an- pounced the batteries. Doc and 1 were to . the Game ~ =~ ~ ~ lyGeorge Weston pitch, The Larabee Lions took their sta- tions in'the field, the last one filing out being Doc Allen. He was chewing gum till his ears wiggled, but he was almost as pale as if he'd been taking a bottle of his own spring tonic. First half of first inning. Our side at the bat. . Briggs whanged his pestle at the first pellet offered. The ball parted the turf for two bases, Farnham band played ‘‘Amer- ica.” - Farnham fife-and-drum corps played ‘‘Yankee Doodle.”” And Farnham fans took first lessons in practical insanity. Dustan at bat. Let four bad notes go to protest and took his hase on balls” Bedlam and Baa-lam let loose among Farnham fans. Also visiting excursions from Gehenna, Hades and all points south. Fox at bat. Stung the wasp into a double play, Briggs reaching bag three. Two out. Larabee looking up and sending messages to Mars, interspersed with terms of love .and affection for their pitcher, * ; Gogerty at bat. Watched high-ball served to catcher. Stepped back to avoid being chipped in the chest. Catchér took another high-ball. Three balls and not a strike! Snyder, our coaching cut- pulled off his time-honored stunt of standing en two chairs and holding out a lemon to the Lara- bee pitcher. At thig Doc walked up to the umpire and tried to look serious. *‘I protest,” he, gaid, ‘‘against these circus stunts un the coach- ing line.” ““That's all right, Doc,” said the umpire, grinning. ““You've done some pretty good stunts on the coaching line yourself,”” We thought at the time that Doc was catching his breath, but before the game was over we knew that if Doc Allen and Machiavelli and Old Nick had gone into partnership that day, in less than a week Doc would have been the senior member of that firm. Gogerty swung at the next horsehide of- fering, smote it on the chin and dropped it in the center fielder's glove. Three out. No runs. Cessation of melody from Farn- bam. Pandemonium in the Larabee tents. And so it went for eight innings, team agains team, band against'band, roar against roar and hysteria and madness screeching in the startled ear of day. The dweetest joy that came to me was in striking out Larabee's ‘‘Popular Pharma- cist."” And how he did enjoy himself when he inveigled me into the triple bite! T THE beginning of the ninth inning neither side had made a run and all the fans were hoarser than fish peddlers on the first Friday in Lent. Then it began to happen! In our half of the ninth Gogerty let the cash register ring two strikes, and then he soaked Mr. Horsehide right square on the point of the jaw. Wow, but how it sailed, how it eailed! Our fans had only been joking before, but when good old Gogerty started around those bases T wish to say that Farnham had the frenzies in right good earnest. They threw up their hats. They threw up their coats and belts. Even a pair of trousers were seen among the flotsam and jetsam that darkened the sky They raved. They roared. They, emitted maniac noises such as this old world has seldom heard before. I saw a Daughter of Deborah whacking a Knight of Daylight over his head with a parasol, while he sim- ply squealed aloud in a speechiess frenzy of bliss. Gogerty trotted around the bags like a runaway merry-go-round, and when-at last we were able to think again we didn’t care a hang if our next two batters were struck out. The. score was 1 to 0 in our favor. There was only one-half inning to go. Back of the coaching line was a fifty-foot flagpole, and when Larabee went to the bat for their final effort their coach shinned up that pole. With laborious care he reached the top and there he stood, balancing him- self upon that dangerous perch. “He'll fall and break his neck!" the gasp on every hand While we were watching him in breath- less expectation, Doc Allen approached the pole, carrying & heavy round object. The man above hauled this up in a basket, though once it fell to the earth with a terrible joit. “What?' “Yes!” “No!” “It can't be!"” ‘A cannonball!” ‘Never!" ‘Now, what d'ye thinka that?" The crowd was doing nothing else but watch that freak on the flagpole. Even the players and umpire kept one eye on him as we took our final places. “Play balll” ) LARABEE LION took his place at the bat and I began to wind up. At this point I shall have to set the story down in parallel columns: 1 lifted my right foot and raised the ball above my head. That silly fool lowered his can- nonball below his knees, I saw him hurl around and tried to that cannonball keep my eye on the straight up in the plate. air. Startled by the The cannonball cry of the crowd T was coming down gave him a good on his crazy head. look. Fascinated, I for- Tickled to death, got to use a curve, he laughed aloud. The ball went He ducked his straight. head. Th batter He caught that cracked a terrible cannonball on the three-base hit. fat of his neck. I swung my arm And there you are! Larabee hdd a man on third and that preposterous, that unbe- lievable, that unthinkable coach on the flag- pole made the cannonball roll over his shoul- der and caught it as it fell. Even at that we weren't quite wise. It was all so unexpected—such an absolutely new kink in baseball. But to return to the parallel columns. Another Larabee Lion advanced to the late, Again I began to wind up. I swung arm. I stole a single glance, Still watching that fool, I threw the ball. The ball hit the batter. Again he poised his weight. He slipped and swayed. He cried in wild alarm, Looking down at me, he shrigked again. He caught his balance. my And the batter took first base on the error! Two men on bases, none out and only a single run needed to tie the score. P went for that umpire as the hawk flies; but, even so, Doc Allen was there as soon as 1 was. “That man's got to come down!" I shouted. “Why so?"" asked Doc. ¢ “Because that's no place for a fool with a cannonball! That's why!" “Keep your lingerie on!" said Doc. ““What about your alleged comedian with his chairs and his lemon? Did it'do me any gogd to kick?'" We talked back and forth, and also to and fro, like a couple of I. W. W.'s refusing to work. But 'way down in my heart I knew that the Doc had put one over on me. The coach stayed where he was and I went back to the mound, vowing I would keep my eyes on the catcher’s glove, come what might. But, oh! And again. But, oh! All my life-1 had been in the newspaper game. in- terested in passing events and absorbed in the making of news. And if that ass did fall from the pole and break his neck a deathless instinct in me wanted to know all the details, so that I could write a good story for the Daily Record and send a puls- ing wire to the Associated Press. Meanwhile, another Larabee Lion pawing at the plate was That devil's own coach teetered backward Ten thousand voices cried, ‘‘Look out!"" I lifted my foot and raised my arm above my head. I swung my arm and refused to look at him. I looked at him; He was falling, I simply couldn’t falling, falling off help it. that pole! Again I forgot to season the ball. It went straight for the the plate. belt. The batter He elid down the knocked out a two- pole and bowed. base hit. He was saved by a rope fastened to back of his And, while I stared in stony-eyed de- spair, those two Larabee men on bases came burtling home, and that first game was lost Did you ever run two hun- dred yards in five seconds flat, expecting every second to have an elephant throw \ his arm about your neck and gather you to his bosom? to us forever, heyond redemption or repair. I was in the office of the Farnham Daily Record next morning, sadly writing a snappy ad for the Toggery Shop, when the Mayor and a crowd of citizens burst through the door as excited as so many cuckoo clocks at noon. He was very short and very fat, was the Mayor, and he wore the tightest clothes ever known to history. “‘By jingo,iJoe!"" he cried. “I've got it!" A stranger might have thought that he had received a gift of inflammatory rheu- matism. But the only complaint in Farn- ham that week was baseballitis. So I looked up, sad, sheepish, but keen. “‘You know that crazy fool with the can- non ball?”’ he shouted. Did I know him! “‘Well, sir, that bunch of crooks had hired bim from a circus and had put him in a Larabee uniform just to get us rattled. And that same circus came to Farnham today.’ We all made raucous, choking noises then, interpolated with snorts and cries for venge- ance. ““Well, what are we going to do about it?" 1 asked at last. ‘'Protest the game, or stop the show, or what" Florence's father, the Judge, stepped for- ward, looking like a cross between Daniel Webster * and Chief Justice Marshall. ““Wouldn't do, boys; wouldn't do, I'm afraid,” he said. “‘That's right, Judge!" cried the Mayor. “What we want to do is this: Think of something a hang sight worse than what they sprung on us!" ““If ,the circus only had a flying ma- chine,"" suggested a citizen after a lengthy pause, ‘‘we could have it fly over their pitcher and drop a setting of eggs down on him."" ‘*“ 'Sault and battery, boys; 'sault and battery, I'm afraid,”” said the Judge. “Or if they had one of these boar con- etructors,’’ suggested a second citizen, ‘‘we might sick that on ‘em.’” ““Accessory before the fact, boys the Judge. *“Wouldn't do, I'm a| “Say,” piped up old Sheriff tom, ‘‘has this here circus nagerie One citizen reported an elephant. other vouched for a lion. ““Well, then ried old Sheriff in a spir- ited falsetto. *‘Couldn’t we ®uzzle a lion or guthin' and turn him loose in the Larabee dressing room"’ “By jingo!" 1 yelled. “I've got the scheme! You-all remember that story about the elephant that never forgot the tailor who stuck the needle in him?" ““Sure!" and likewise ‘‘Yeh! *‘Well, then, listen!" croaked id."” interbot- got a me- An- Yeh!" HEY listened. Two minutes later we were all hot-footing it down to the cirens grounds It todbk a lot of persuasion to bring that circus owner around to the proper’point of view. The Judge had to tell him how many city ordinances he had broken, The Sherift bad to explain the propinquity of the county jail. But when he found that the fans of Farnham were not inseparable from their legal tender that circus owner melted He called the elephant’s keeper, who also melted from the same genial source of heat. “T'll take O1d Tip in the side-show tent,” he said. ‘‘Nobody'll see you there.’’ He led the wondering elephant up against the side of the tent and drove three mighty stakes into the ground. Around these stakes he passed a chain, which he fastened to an iron bracelet on Old Tip's ankle. ““There, gen'l’men,”’ said the keeper, after we had posted a guard at the door. **'E's L Copyright. 1924, by Public Ledger Company WHEN a lady’s hand and the baseball championship of the county are in the balance, methods that are not up to the standards of pure sportsmanghip may be ex- pected, but true love will triumph. But not before the black shadow of dis- aster has spread its pall over the course of true love and caused true hearts to tremble in deadly fear. ready. I'll have to get out meself, or the old boy would pever trust me any more,” « Whereupon he vanished, and we were left alone with that swaying, fidgeting, trunk- swinging, shifty-eyed, ear-flapping moun- tain of mischief. That spring, in our an- gual minstrel show, we had used a number of Larabee uniforms, purple with red socks and caps. We had already sent for one of these suits; also for a number of Farnham uniforms. They arrived while Old Tip was being chained to the stakes. “Now, boys,"" said thé Mayor, ‘‘we want a volunteer for dangerous service. Who'll step forward"” Breathing hard, we all stepped forward, The Mayor took a step back. ‘‘He must be a young man with plenty of nerve and a good pitcher,” continued the Mayor. *‘Will such a man pleade step for- ward?"’ . We all took another step forward, old Sheriff Winterbottom limping on his stick. The Mayor took another step back. “He must be a man,” he said, ‘‘who could grun like the very old divvle if he was chased by an elephant.”” We all took another step forward, and the Mayor took another step back. “He must be a man,” be continued, *“who could be spared by his family—'" We all took another step forward “Dern it all,” said the Mayor, “what do you think this is, a parade? We'll have to draw fots."" So we tore up strips of paper, and the Judge drew the short piece. 5 The Judge was fifty, if he was. five, but all the same he climbed into the Larabes uniform like a two-year-old, while half a dozen of us put on the Farnham colors, which were white with blue trimmings. This latter bunch took up a position in front of Old Tip, and when we weren't throwing a baseball around we were tossing peanuts to the elephant. In about five min- utes Old Tip had sworn eternal friendship. He stood there watching the ball and crunching shells as though he had been a Farnham fan all his life. Then it was the Judge's turn. The other boys fell back, and the Judge walked near to the elephant. O. T. held out his trunk for a peanut. The Judge drew his arm back, took careful aim and caught that poor old elephant with the ball right square on his dome of thought. Old Tip looked puzzled and hostile. He felt his head with the tip of his trunk and began to watch the Judge with a crnical eye Again our eminent jurist wound up, and again he let the elephant have the ball in the center of his features. That time Old Tip pulled at his chain and made a motion with his trunk like an irritable wife trying to swat a fly. At this point the Judge rested. The boys in the Farnham uniforms went to the front again. We soothed that indignant elephant with kind words and peanuts, and he told us how a contortional son of sorrow in a purpls uniform had been trying to crack his coco- nut with a baseball. Then, for the second time, the Judge ad- vanced. The moment Old Tip saw him he cursed him roundly in the elephant lan- guage. The Judge wound up. Old Tip's re- marks immediately became unprintable in any jungle journal. The baseball flew and caught the elephant an awful crack right on the root of the trunk. He lunged like a locomotive going down a bank, stretching his chained leg to twice its normal length, as though it were a gigantic band of India rubber. He squeuled; he thrashed his trunk; he pleaded with us to let him loose and give him a fighting chance. One of the stakes suddenly popped out of the ground, and the Judge, heeding the frantic advice of his friends, went out of that tent like a streak of purple lightnin, But we were sfied. We were aure Old Tip had learned his les- son, and was ready for the final exams, All Larabée eame to Farnham that after- no0n to see the second game. They descended on us like a swarm of seventeen-year lo- custs, and their wings were marked with W for war. At half-past 2 the preliminary tumults subsided. The bell rang. The umpire. faced the throng and announced the batteries. William Allen for Larabee, yours truly for Farnham, I walked to the mound, looked up at Florence, threw four tantalizing curves to the cafcher, and the game was on. For seven and a half innings neither side scored a run. And then as Doc Allen went to the pitcher's hill for the last half of the eighth a great cry of joy arose from the crowd. Approaching the grandstand with majes- tic steps was an elephant, He wore an enormous baseball cap made in the Farnham colors. And over his back hung a huge red blanket, largely lettered: GOOD LUCK EAR OLD TIP, I can see him now with his cap at a sporty angle, basking in the agfplause of the crowd, his shifting little eyes taking stock of everything. Doc had been talking to his catcher, pre- tending not to notice our latest arrival. He strolled to the mound, and rubbed the tée of his shoe in the dust. Then suddenly Old Tip cocked his ears forward, and we knew that he had recognized those purple uniforms. UW.w-w-w-w-w-w!"’ he growled. His ears went hack and forward like swinging doors on lodge night. Doc wound up. “00-00-00!" cried Old Tip, as good as to say, “'You'll crack me on the bean with that ball again, will you, you purple pateh of misery! Look out for yourself, for thers aren't any chains to my leg this time. I'm with my friends, and there's an elephant coming your way!" The next moment Old Tip was en route for the mound. And oh! the shouts, the roars, the yells, the cries, the cheers, the ravings and all the other battle cries of bedlam ! « Doc Allen gave one glance at ‘‘Good Luck,"” and that was enough. He beat it while the beating was good. Reader—as the dear old novelists used to write—were you ever pursued across a baseball diamond by an indignant elephant, wHo was intent upon wiping out and polis} ing up an imaginary grievance? Well, be- lieve the fans who saw it! It is some pur- suit! Did you ever run 200 yards in five see- onds flat, expecting every second to have an elephant throw his arm around your neek and gather you to his bosom? Well, if you ever did, you know this im- porcant fact: You weren't in any condition to go on pitching ball that afternoon. We finally caught Old Tip—he “couldn’t run faster than an ice wagon, any way— and we led him back of the grandstand, where he dissipated on peanuts till he nearly bad the gout. Larabee put in another pitcher, but we didn’t have to sick our elephant on to that one. He couldn't see the plate, because he was busy watching for the reappearance of “'Good Luck." Farnham made nine runs in that one in- ning. But the best thing happened that night when I went to the circus. Of course, I bunted up Old Tip right away, and, of course, I found that half the population of Fartham was paying him homage. And in the front row feeding him peanuts out of a paper bag—yes, you've guessed it! I went outside and kicked my foot against the stake and punched the canvas with terri- ble blows just to keep myself from bursting with joy. And if Farnham won that next game, Paid jn Advance YOUTH with a little too much lead A in his foot was speeding through a small town in Indiana recently and when arrested was fined $15 by the Judge. Hurriedly the young man laid down $30 and made for the door. Judge—Here, young fellow, wait for your change. Speeder—Never mind; I'm leaving this town faster than I came in. Instructions Followed € TOHN, did you deliver my message to 0, sir," answered John; ‘‘he was out and the office was locked.” ‘Well, why didn’t you wait for him?" “‘Because there was a notice on the door to 'Return at once’; 0 I came back as quick as I could.” Circumstantial Evidence OBBY—I've been a very good boy sines I started going to Sunday schoel, haven't 17 Mother—Tes, dear, you've been very good indeed. ; Bobbr—And you don't distrust me any more, do you? Mother—No, dear. Bobby—Then why do you hide the jam? She Was Shopping HE had the clerk show her everything on the shelf. When she had taken the last roll down and she had given it the once-over, she gave a most contented sigh. “Thank you,” she said sweetly. *'You see, I was not intending to buy anything. I bought a pattern at your competitor's and they claimed that you didn’t bave any- thing like it, and I just wanted to make sure.” The clerk is still unconscious.