Norwich Bulletin Newspaper, June 30, 1914, Page 8

entered the office the Bditor was sing. ing—at least he thought he Was singing. ‘Take me out to the ball game,” caroled the Editor, as he lghtly slash- ed his pencil through three-quar- ters of a page of manuscript. The Observer glanced ner- vously over his shoulder. The Editor's joy made the Observer feel that it was his manuscript that had Jjust Dbeen maimed. “Buy me some peanuts and cracker- Jacks,” urged the Editor, sticking in some ugeless punctuation, “I don't care if I never come back."” “Crackerjafks and back,” remarked the Observer, coldly, “do mnot rhyme. You ueed ‘don’t’ and ‘mever,’ which is double negative. Also vou are singing in three lkevs at the same time. Students of muslc have established the principle of conti- nulty in melody by insisting that a inger remain on the key for at least two-fifths of a second at a time.” ‘ - = * But the Editor refused to be discouraged. He concluded his song triumphantly, while the office boy fled to the composing room and hid behind a linotype machine, Finally the Editor spoke: “We are going to the game this after- | moon.” he announced. The Observer looked hopeful. Did vou get passes?” he Inquired. “No,” said the Editor. “I got one pass. You can pay vour way “F can,”” sald the Observer, shortiy, “but ROW AFTER ROW, TIER AFTER TIER, OF 1 won't. { - T “Would you use my pass?” Inquired the | may gather what kind of a place Coving- | of peanuts at avid fans. He did Bditor. His tone indicated that an unjust | ton is. | a base on balls or make a wild nli':'!nptage was being taken of him. The Observer looked around | in those_twenty shots, and only sald the Observer, “am supposed to g0 on business, to tell what I see, while you will go for the single purpose -of bawling out the umpire and swilling that | soapy stuff they call gmger ale.” T never drank ginger ale in my life,” 14 the Editor. with dignity On the who was mosily The temperature on a sweatcr and eating peanut: him v jaw, was ninety, 2 thick co: Evidently he a yo neck ar.1 shoulder but he had He was had cor-| nered the peanut market before he came i He would open balf a dozen peanu After the Observer had agreed that the| guip their contents and placidly drop Editor had neves ed ginger ale, that| the shells anywhere—mostly in the Ob- official unbent slightly and tackled the| scrver's lap. | sporting editor for another pass. He got| After the erver had zotten one la it. That is one of the reasons Why it| fui and carefully brushed it off. the first pavs to be an editar. If there is anything bag of pea ioose around the office, you get it. ut was consumed. Then the | young aman with the sweater and | If anvbody had s: earlier in the day | jaw 1z around un he found another | that the whole fown had gone baserbal] ! bag and started on that | crazy the Observer would have been in @ = Just as the Observer was about to| ' | = *‘,’.’/;/‘//// /4 555777 7% SHAKING HIS PREY, THE FAT WAN SPOKE. position to deny it. He could have taken'| speak to him, he turned to his friends. the stand in court and stated that thou- | “Yup,” he said, huskily., “me fren' sands of sane, sober citizens were on | Bill. de sportin’ editor, gimme a comp thelr way to work. It must have been | toq. Yuh see, Bill's goin’ to back those passes—possibly it was the editor's | me in de next main bout at the Glen- singing. Anyhow, within the hour there|gale Athaletic Club. He's me fren’ Bill came a great change. 1 i On the way to the ball park the cars | . s [ 5 were packed with the patient, perspiring | Jomething about_this conversation con proletariat. Some of them had seats. | Vinced the Observer that man in Others were sitting upon those who had | the sweater was a prize fighter. seats. Still others stood. And the re-|how, he was a friend of Bill mainder were tastefully draped on the | without knowing Bill, the Obser running boards, the cow catcher, tba|sure he would be hurt if his brakeman's platform and other points oi | were reproved for carelessness vantage. { handling of peanut shel Occaslonally the car would stop sud-| The Observer was still ponde denly and a prominent citizen would get | his chances of getting the Editos off. ‘He would not intend to get off. But nge seats and garner his share of he would lose his hold on the car and | peanut shells when the bell rang. ‘a xzofl just the same—usually hitting the | voung man with the voice of a stricken pavement with the upper part of his vest| Bull Moose came out and announced | and his chin. % the batteries—and the game was on. s Now {t isn't the Observer's idea to These minor accldents only added to|S0.® b gamie Dy innings. You can the #pirit of festive cheer. And, besides. |is as much excitement in the grand-| the other fans knew that the eminent citizen, If not seriously hurt, could catch stand, as much of in place on the field. . as ever takes s the Man the mext car. and if he was seriously hurt | Who Knew All the Plavers by il i S rst Names. And there was the Man the ball park was no place for him. | wn, Could Alanage the Team (and who How the days have changed! It Was| gidn't hesitate to sav so). And there only a little while ago that the Observer | was the Chronic er (presumably sat in the bleachers; it seems like yes-| it was chronic because the knocking terday.' Yet the changes, the ravag ur!:(‘:ul up during the whole game). and » y 5 ere were the wo Englishme: .Irsve’.' made it s C:f‘}:(""c’h::fi‘d ar| But the first thing that struck the| SRS WEED She DovD Obsérver was the difference in treat- bicycle; always giving you the Wrong|iment accorded the peanut boy and the check and offering you a rusted wreck|codapop bov. It is the difference with a flat tire in exchange for tHe new | marked in the crowd's attitude toward wheel you hal left with them? the star pitcher and the umpire Thers was one old man who stuck to| For the peanut boy the crowd had a tradition. He had some bicycle checksdeep and abiding affection. Fven those and he religiously asked everybody—anto- a who have the shells® of adjucent peanut mobilists. pedestrians and street-carists— eaters scattered on them. like the gentle | if they didn’t want their “bikes checked.” {dew from heaven, don’'t hold it against You could see that the age of Drogress!the peanut boy. They say: had affected his mind and he was not| <“Well, he's a good kid. It isn't his| safe. The Edltor said his intelligence Was| rauit that people can't cat peanuts 20 marked (by comparison with some peo- Dle he knew) that he was going to hire him to do feature writing. The Observer did not inquire what the Editor meant. Inside the ground was that ominous, swelllng roar, from pavillion, grandstand, box and bleacher seat—a steady, insistant rumbling that is usually associated with lvnchings and street parades. Row. after row, tier after tier of faces, moving and rustling and roaring—a bable of sound. The well known field presented its usual pictare of tidy green. (For details read any base ball story by our leading fic- tioneers). And out there, under the shining after- noon sun were the gladiators, lamming the ball around, scooping up hits and per- forming the thousand and one things that are supposed to aid in preparation for the combat. The Editor dropped Into a front seat and opened “a scorecard that he had bought. The fact that it was mostly ad- wvertisements didn’t worry the Editor at all. Neither did the fact that he always without making the srandstand look like the ruins of Messina.” It is the peanut boy's unerting throw- ing that wins him this distinction. this general appreciation. In a game where dexterty is at a premium his efforts must be acknowledged. He takes a bag of peanuts from his| basket as he walks along in frent of the bleachers. High up among the rooters a fat man arises excitedly and screams. ‘Hay, boy!” he bellows. Of course, he doesn't want hay. He wants peanuts. But he calls for hay, just the same. The peanut boy looks up indifferently. “Hay, boy!" continues the vegetarian, and a shining nickel is tossed downward. Then the boy comes into action. The right hand, holding the baz of peanuts, is drawn back, and flashes forward again with a swiff underhand motion. The bag describes a magnificent parabola. It reminds you of the firing on Vera Cruz in 1848, as illustrated by old prints. If the purchaser has a grain of ability and agility he will catch the bag in his loses track of the assists and put-outs|hands. If not he will catch it with his after the fourth inning. vest. One thing is certain—it will hit Next to his -ginging the . Editor prides | him: nobody else will zet his peanuts. bimeelf most On his ability to keep a box score. He says he used to do it regu-| larky in Covington, Ky., from which youl In the bright lexicon of the peanut boy thete Is no such word as miss. The Observer watched him chuck iwen- ly fat man—one might say a phenomenal- ly fat man—who sat three seats away| from the Observer. In his wilting collar was tucked a huge handkerchief and {upon the back of his seat hung his moistened coat. There were two on bases and the fat man was in that sanguinary state of perspiration which our English cousins delicately call a “bloody sweat.’” He one ba the exc caught ands, broke open—principally because d man who was reaching for it with his nose instead of his it which is disconcerting to even the rdiest bag of peanuts. The crowd bet ween innings encouraged the peanut boy. Many a nickel he troved because the bleacherites wanted to see iiow far he could throw. Byt the soda pop boy, how different is his lot! In the first place, if there is any scda pop bottle throwing to be done the owd prefers to do it, along with cush- ions and bricks. Soda pop bottles are the fans’ weapons of war when all efforts at mediation with the umpire have failed. But that isn’t the worst. There never was a soda pop boy who didn’t have feét that required 14-K shoes. Also there never was a soda pop boy— There was a very fat man—an extreme- Was waving his straw hat. the while he tried to engourage the batter. And_just At the exciting moment when a double steal was begun and the batter was about to swing on the ball—just at that epic of epics in base ball drama—a soda pop boy who possessed the blacken- ed complexion of unsullied Africa paused | n front of the fat man. One of his fine large feet rested on the fat man's. In the soda pop boy's eve as it surveyved the scene which the fat man could not see was an expression of jaundiced indi ence. The play was completed, while the fat man frantically tried to, gaze at the game by peering around thé soda pop boy and 4t the s e time to release his foot, still heid by that No. 14 shoe. ““Huh,” said the African seda pop boy, indifferently, “he done got 'em out.” He moved on. Into the fat man's eve came a wild, maniacal gleam. His murderous glance followed the white-coated back as it disappeared adwon the aisle, gently cry- ing: “Heah, ladiezengents, git you' nice h gingah ale, lemon sody, sahspahil- you see that coon step on my ked the fat man of a total he stranger nodded sympathetic “He got in my way so I the play,” continued the choked shghtly. Darn_outrage concentrating/” again. The fat man said nothing more, but his on was ominous. Three innings lapsed before the soda pop boy return- ed. This time another of those amazing- 1y dramatic situations which are the life of the game IMd developed. The man at bat had struck out, the catcher had opped the ball, the batter had rushed 11y. couldn’t see fat man. He agreed the stranger, himself on the game FACES. for first and the man on first had started for second. The soda pop boy paused wearily in front of the fat man and prepared ‘to rest his weary No. 14 shoe on the fat man's shoes. But he didn't. Disregarding _ the play going on before him, disregarding everything but his atavistic desire to do great damage, the fat man seized the soda pop boy and dragged him to one of the park officials. The soda pop boy whimpered feebly. aking his prey. the fat man spoke: vou don't want this coon's neck broke,” he said, ferociously, “you send him around to the other side of the grandstand where he can keep off my feet! I ain't going to stand for his Yool- ishness, and I ain't going to have my afternoon spoiled.” Now you may understand, vaguely, why it is that vox populi is not an ardent ad- mirer of the soda pop boy. The most confirmed optimist on earth— next to the man who has a speaking ac- quaintance with a United States senator— is the individual who can remember the first names of base ball players. One of these optimists sat behind the Observer. He did not believe in hiding his light un- der a bushel. He spoke right out and every time he spoke he leaned over and shouted in the Observer's ear. It was an even bet whether caulifiower ear would precede a ruptured tympanum or vice versa. That the plavers didn’t show enthusiasm when he pronounced their names, discouraged this fan not a_whit “Oh, you, EA"’ he would bawl, “hit 'er out. boy! Hit 'er out!” Ed did not hit her out® He swung three times and then went and took a refresh- ing drink of water out of the bucket. *“Come on, Zeke, bellowed the man who knew them all, “vou kin make sec- ond while that big boob is winding up. You kin do it, Zeke. Zeke tried, and was thrown out by ap- proximately ten feet. “Good try. Zeke,” encouraged the per- sonal friend. While the teams weré changing posi- tions he addre<sed the grandstand gen- erally. “Great 1i'1 feller: e, he observed. “‘Great 1l team. I know most of them boys. See 'em at the hotel frequent.” * * % Only once did he gain recognition. A substitute runner had been put on base. The shortstop of the local team was standing almost in front of him with his back resting against the lower tier of boxes as he conversed, momentarily, with the manager. “Oh, George,” bellowed the Man Who Knew Them All, “who is that feller that's on base?” George shouted, in the direction of the voice, that it was Smith. The Man Who Knew Them All fairly | slowed with pride when the answer | reached him | “They all know me” he said, com- | placently | The Observer is not a malicious indi- | ing out the things which should be done. So in the seventh Inning the manager a1d what he had been urging, which was to take out the pitcher, who had been There were three men on bases. runs were needed to tie the score. Two men were out. The situation was ideal The pinch hitter stepped up to the plate and alarmed the lady fans by indicating that he was going ’tln do away with me superfluous clothes. *First he fooled around with the but- tons on the front of his shirt, then moved the sleeves up and down. Then he took off his cap, rearranged his hair and put his cap on again. After that he coyly tapped at his shoes with the business end of the bat, rapping each side neatly four times. He was a_cautious player. said the opposing catcher in “if you make all inch hitter took his position, poteen Mently before the pitcher with bat waving nervously arownd like the tennae of a giant butterfly. k2 Afhe pltcher uncorked his delivery: there was a flash of white, a vicious swing, and the smash of the ball in the catcher’s glove. “One striker” moaned the umplre, to be getting tired. e balls were Called in auick suc- cession, The pinch hitter smiled. And While he was smiling the pitcher let an- other one loose at top speed right across the plate. “Two strikes! The pinch. hitter's fai glow. You could see show that pitcher somet He took a third swipe which knocked thie ball over the fenc touched it tossed down his started toward the water bucket. 3 The opposing catcher bethousht him- self of his earlier remark. It seemed ap- P e yelled, “if you make all that fuss with vour clothes when you strike out. what do you do when you make a M e Man Who Could Manage Them stirred restlessly in the grandstand. His advice had failed the team and he felt that responsibility rested upon him to establish an alibi “He shouldn't comment. And it was while he was contemplat- ing this problem that the Observer was who gallery and watch prominent persons carved in the latest styles. I have a speak- ing acquaintance with the coroner, who will be glad to take you through his morgue and show vou all of the freshest corpses. If you want to be harrowed why pay money? Why not—" Even while the Observer was speaking he noticed upon the face of the chronic knocker a look of stupefled amazement— the look that he might see on the face of a man who, having raised a snake from infancy and believing in its reptilian af- fections, is suddenly bitten by it. ““Wha' choo talkin’ about?” faltered the chronic knocker. ‘Morgue and hospitals and all that rough stuff. I didn't say nothing about morgues, did 17" The Observer explained that he was only trying to find out why the chronic knocker was there. “Because I wanta be here," chronic knocker, petulantly. And with that remark he relapsed into bawled the umplre. ce had an angry he was going to ething. He ald would have e if it had bat and a* struck out,” was his replied the awakened by the chronic knockér. He was a large-minded man. but he didn’t Ilike base ball. Anybody could see that. Nothing pleased him. And since base ball is based on the principle that one side must succumb—hence enabling <he other side to win—the chl;omclkno(‘ker panned e losers indiscriminately. e home pitcher gave the first visitor at bat in the seventh a base on balls. “Aw. take him out!” moaned the chron- ic knocker. ““Take him out! He's as wild as a stable cat.” The next visitor struck out. morbid, dyspeptic thought and left the Observer to make the best of his reply. He did not say what there was about the ball park that enthralled him. Cer- tainly it was not the playing. It may “The boob!" wailed the chronic knoc er. “Didja see what he swung at? * - * A nervous little man sitting next to him ventured to remonstrate. “But we want to win' protested the| little man. “That man is on the other - | team! The chronic knocker bestowed upon him a look of utter contempt. “*Any bonehead knows that.”” he grum- bled, “but I wanta see some hittin The shortstop of the home team made a stop back of second that brought a whoop of appreciation from the crowd. “Lucky stop!” howled the chronic knocker. “Lucky stop! Fell into it!” The Observer decided to investigate the case. It promised Interesting develop- ments. Here was a man, apparentiy sane, | who was protected by the Constitution of | the United States. Ke had inalienable right ‘o life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. He had paid real money in order to suffer for two or three hours. The Observer spoke to him. “This game does not appeal to you. You have shown that. You cannot de- ceive me. 1 know that you think those players down there are a prize collection of hams from the uttermost hinterland, and that they all have harveyized steel skulls, inside of which their little brains, for want of exercise, have atrophied. Am 1 right?” “You are right,”” said the chronic knock- er, heartily. Mentally he elected the Ob- server to the Knockers' Club. 'And,” continued the Observer, ‘‘you know that our pitcher has a glass arm and the firstbaseman has a charleyhorse and the catcher has to lift the ball over the fence in order to get to first base. Am 1 right?” “You seem to be a man of discernment,” admitted the knocker, grudgingly. OTHERS WERE have been the way that the soda pop boy stood on other people’s feet. At every ball game there is Invariably some young man who has lunched too well and has come out to get the cool air. The game, for him, is a secondary con- sideration. Usually he sieeps through the early innings and complains bitterly when the cheering disturbs his rest. This type Is infrequent; but interesting —oh, very Interesting. One of these speci- “That,”” said the Observer, “leads me|mens lost his way in the grandstand. to the point I had in mind, Why| Bets were made as to where he would ul- do vou come here and suffer? There| timately land—whether he would fall oft are hospitals where you can sit in the the back of the stand or slump down one Wilson’s Double. Representative J. C. McKenzie of 1lli- nois comes of the clan of that name in Scotlana, his father having come to tis country from the land of calkes. His clean - cut, an- gular face is an ex- act re »duction of that of the Presi- dent, and as a co sequence he hal been frequently mistaken for Mr. Wilson. a Jarmer and has spent most of hi During life in‘that busine: i one campaign he had to run against two candidates whose occu- pations wer respectively, school teaching and banking. On a trip to a distant town to make a speech he was waiting at a junction to chaunge cars, when into conversation with The men he got two men living near the station. talls turned on politics and the xpressed their opinions freely. I don’t care much for a banker fel- low,” remarked one as he polished off his muddy boots. “Them bankers ain’t got no feelings fur the po’ man.” “And I ain’'t got no use fur them school teachers,” replied the second. “They ain't fittin’ ter do no tendin’ to big business, nohow. ‘Pears to me that that fellow what is called McKen- | zie would about fill the bill—he's jest a | plain farmer and will not put on al 1 am goin’ ter vote for Mac.” Just then the train rumbled into the station and McKenzie swung aboard. “Good-bye, boys,” called out McKen- zie to his new friends as the wheels begun to grind. “I'm glad to meet you, glad tosknow you and hope you will continue to shout for me—I am MeKenzie.” no “Too Much Johnson.” Representative Al- bert Johnspn of Washington is not a native of that state. On the con- trary, he is a south- ern boy and as a voung man was a newspaper man at the nation’s capital; but he went west in that business and fell from grace. He has now been in politics for several | vears. There is still a chance, however, that he may reform and return to his former calling. Johnson's district is interesting— Pacific ocean, huge mountains, Indians and immense salnion industry. In fact, this fish business is about the big- gest thing in it And when one eats a salmon just caught he is enjoying a treat. One day he wanted to spread himself and show his old friends in Washing- ton city just what the real,&simon-pure salmon was, S0 he had several fat fel- lows shipped in ice all the way from the coast. These he turned over to the head of a cafe to have cooked for a little difiner to which he invited some choice souls. The dinner went on all right, but much to Johnson's disgust the supply of salmon fell short. The walter stated humbly that “there aren't no more fish,” while Johnson insisted that there were at least two more due him. And to prove it he strode back into the kitchen, opened the big ice box and fished up—two fine, pink, shining sal- mon. “I knew those fish were there,” he explained, “for I understand the ways of Washington waiters—so I took the pains to count over the fish before I sent them in to the coolr A Short Term. Public men have often hoasted their long terms of office in some high posi- tion; it rema for Representa George M. Young, at present repre- sentative from North Dakota, to bear the unique honor of having been governor of sovereign state the Union for the shortest space of time that any man ever held that exalted position—one hour, by the clock! 'he great event happened In summer of 1912, said Mr. Young. regular governor, John Burke, was away building fences and stringing wires in a convention hall down in St. £ the “Our Louis. The® next in succession was Lieut. Gov. R. S. Lewis, a banker of Fargo. “One slithering hot day a touring car full of friends chugged up .to the bank. They reminded Lewis that it was hot, that North Dakota was pro- hibition, that Minnesota wasn't. So they stuffed him in among them, headed for Moorhead, Minn., and threw on the high speed. Lewis was over the state line just one hour, and mean- time, by virtue of my position as presi- dent pro tempore of our state senate, the honors, dutles, privileges and sponsibilities of the governorship fell upon me. “But there wasn't anything very ex- citing about it. It didn't feel any dif- ferent; _there wasn't any govérning to do. Both the United States senators in excellent health and with even even a trustees: » vacant for me to practice on. Of course I could have red martial law and ordered out militia, but I couldn't get up ar usible dis- turbance in just or ur. 1 might have pardon a few murderers out e strajght- of the penitentiary, but some straight laced Pur s would have miscon- strued the innocence of my motive. So I had to be content with putting my feet on the governor's desk and commissions for ce—and let my only of a great state go of signing a justices of the pea 'm as governor ‘ (:lrl;m! 1 guess it was all right as it was, however; it was an awfully hot Jay and, as Henry Clay said, Td rather be cool than governor.' " o Fines. Mosquit — Refresentative T. J. Scully of New Jer- sey is proud of his state. Recently at a meeting of the rivers and harbor committee a cele- brated English en- gineer spoke before the body, detailing the newest methods n sanitation in Egypt and stating that. the mosquito had been so com- pletely eradicated that it would be al- most impossible to find one in that country. “In fact,” the engineer concluded, “so rare now is this insect that any per- son found with a mosquito on him is obliged to pay a fine of 12 shillings. Scully looked thoughtful, took up his pencil and covered a page of a pad with figures. “Well,” he sighed at last, looking up, “I was just figuring out if that fine were levied in my district how many thousands my constituents would have to pav." | delignt A FAT MAN ARISES EXCITEDLY AND SCREAMS, “WEY, BOwS of the aisles. All of the bets wers called off when a policeman of unsympathetio nature, who was ruffled at having his at- tention called from the game, took the specimen in charge and led him to the nearest place from which he could call a patrol. - - * When last seen the specimen was in- | sisting, with tears in his eyes ,that his raincheck should be cashed inasmuch as he had not seen one Inning of the game. He had spent four Innings trying to find his seat. “You tell it to the disk serjent,” urgea the policeman, as he propped the weak brother up against a lamppost. “Of've na patience wit yez. Ye've spiled me whole day.” Now the Observer may be wrong, but he is convinced that umpires take a keen in hearing the crowd howl at them phychologically this is based on the well known human trait that makes a small child delight in poking an en- TTING UPON THOSE WHO HAD SEATS. raged leopard with a long stick—provide ing, of course, the leopard is behind bars, The umpire in these days is quite as safe as any leopard in captivity. The po< lice are with him. If it comes to a showe down the players will protect him.froms the bleacherites. Every time the Observer had occasioq to bark at a decision—which was when< ever the home team lost a close decision —the umpire strained his voice and got ® little extra volume into the cry: “Yurrrre rrrrerrrrrout!” i There was a moment of interest In the fifth inning. The home pitcher got the ball acrosy the plate. “Ball!" said the umplre. “Imp of perdition, may you burn thousand years in the infernal regions 1 cried two Brazilians in their nati tongue. Other fans expressed the sam $e¥;lmems. only more directly. he catcher turned to the umpire. Yo see he was pleading with him as nd and brother not to make ane mistake. next effort of the pitcher was alsa called & ball. This time the pitcher weng on the chautauqua circuit with the catche er. The infleld aided with such comments on the umpire's eyesight and failing mi; as happened to occur to them. The bleac! gre Zounded like the beginning of a fow unt. - *= The third time the umpire spoke (thi® was after he had put one of the infielderg and 2 coach off the fleld), he called & strike on the batter. But he did It res sretfully. You could see that he would rather have called it a ball and gotten one more grand rise out of the fans. The game wound up in an exciting rally. The home team won. As the crowd poured out of the gates the Editor spoke. He was thoroughly happy. During the four innings he had kept score he had recorded thirty-nine put-outs and forty-two assists. The facg that you can only have twenty-seven pute outs in a nine-inning game did not worry him, He said he understood the score— and ‘after all that was the main object. Did you think much of the game? asked the Editor. “Greatest exercise in the world,” plied the Observer enthusiastically. “Wha-a-at?” The Editor peered at the Observer, secking signe of a failing mind “Sure,” said the Observe thers wasn't a man in that crowd who didn't get more exercise than the whole bunch on the field put together. Two English tourists preceded the Obe server and the Editor out of the gate~ way. They were yawning. Said the first: “Rawther interesting. But simple. Lite tle complexity. All you do, my dear fele Jjow, is to alm at the ball and strike quickly. Something like the round arms swing in cricket, y'know."” “Yas,” assented the other. “Where'll we go for tea?” “Did you say exercise?” asked the Edle tor_sternly. I meant on an average,” expiained the Observer. “You tolled enough over. that sgore of your's to give those Ei and yourself an - average of .45 in.the exercise league.” ““You know nothing of the game” ree plied the Editor crushingly. That is probably true. But the Obser~ ver will insist to his dying day that the greatest thing about a ball same is the ree