Our Baseball Club and How It Won the Championship

and Ready, alert and spry as a lad of nineteen, making himself very busy trimming the flags, inspecting the grounds, and running of errands for the players, conscious that but for him the game could not go on. There was a great and tumultuous cheer when the two nines, clad in their uniforms, finally emerged from the unpainted little buildings near the judges’ stand in which they had made ready for the game. Hank Jackson, with what some thought was unparalleled impudence, under the circumstances, but which may have been prompted by a spasm of repentance, stood up on his seat and proposed “three rousing cheers for the Catalpa nine” as that famous organization filed into the Diamond Field. Whereupon, Mr. Heaton, fixing his fond paternal eye on his son, now wearing the uniform of the home club, waved his tall hat and asked for three cheers for the visitors, and these were given with a will.

“Ah!” sighed Alice, as the Catalpas lost the toss and went to the bat at the direction of their antagonists, “that is a bad sign; but I have made up my mind not to notice any more signs, good, bad, or indifferent.”

“A sensible conclusion, child,” said the aunt. “I have heard that baseball players are as superstitious as sailors, and that is one reason why I think that the game must be debasing to the morals of the players.”

Alice laughed loud and long at this, and even the Judge relaxed his face into a smile as he heard the sage observation of the elderly lady before him.

“Pay attention, Alice,” said her friend Ida, “there goes that handsome Larry to the bat!”

But it was needless to direct attention to the player. Every eye was fixed on the favorite as he lifted his bat jauntily and took his position with a knowing smile to Sam Morse, the Calumets’ pitcher, as if in recognition of their former contests. But Larry, and Sam Morrison, who succeeded him, failed to hit the ball safely. And Neddie Ellis, who came next to the bat, secured his base only by an error on the part of Captain Ayres, at first base. There was then a chance for the Catalpas to score, but this was destroyed by Charlie King’s going out on a fly. Equally unsuccessful were the Calumets, who now came to the bat with high hopes. Darius Ayres hit a fly to John Brubaker, in the right field, and that vigorous young man neatly captured the ball amid the plaudits of his fellow townsmen, who were plainly glad of the least occasion for hilarity. Sam Morse was retired at first base, and John Handy hit a skyscraper to Neddie Ellis, ending the first inning without a run.

Again both clubs, watching each other with rigid scrutiny, failed to score a run. Each of the nines played a model fielding game and the result was that not a player reached first base in safety. For the Catalpas, Hart Stirling struck out; John Brubaker hit a slow ball to Jamie Kennedy who fielded him out at first base, and Hiram Porter went out on a fly to James McWilliams.

The Calumets were retired with equal precision and celerity, Rob Peabody being thrown out at first base by Albert Heaton, Tom Shoff meeting his fate at the same point at the hands of Hart Stirling, while Glenn Otto failed to hit the ball, although he made three mighty strokes at it.

The third inning began without a run to the credit of either club, and it ended in like manner. The Catalpas went to work with a will that promised to achieve something for their success, but they were forced to yield to the strong fielding game played by the visitors. Al Heaton made his first appearance at the bat, and a little rustle of applause ran around the crowded seats as he stepped lightly to his position. He had been “a little shaky,” as he expressed it confidentially to his friend Larry, but the welcome he received from the spectators gave him a bracing of the muscles, and he hit a hard ball to the right field, where it was captured neatly by Rob Peabody. “The Lily” next tried his best to hit the ball, but he could not send it out of the diamond, and, as Deputy Sheriff Wheeler remarked, “he died at first base.” Larry Boyne fared no better than his predecessors, as he hit up a very easy fly which fell to the lot of Shoff. It was the work of a few minutes to dispose of the Calumets. Jamie Kennedy struck out; Charlie Webb was retired at first base, after hitting a hot ball to Hart Stirling, and McWilliams went down before the deceptive curves of the Catalpas’ pitcher.

“Three innings and not a run yet!” was the exclamation of Miss Ida Boardman. “Why, both clubs seem to be watching each other as a cat would watch a mouse! I wonder if either will score a run in this game? If they don’t, I shall feel as if my time was wasted, shan’t you, Alice?”

But Miss Alice, with a demure glance at her aunt, who beheld the field with a listless manner, declared that the playing was simply splendid, and she pitied anybody who could not appreciate the wonderful fielding of the two clubs. She wished victory for the home nine; but she could not withhold her generous praise for the fine playing of the visitors.

When Sam Morrison went to the bat for the Catalpas, there was on his face a look of determination that indicated mischief, as his admirers said among themselves. “The Lily” said, “It is high time that something was done, and we must be the first to send a man across the plate.” Sam hit a difficult grounder to Handy, who allowed the base runner to reach the first bag in safety, by making a poor throw to Ayres, after accomplishing a first-rate stop, at third base. Neddie