Newspaper Page Text
PAGE 4.
THE FUTURE CITIZEN.
Ill
He hung around, but nobody
asked him to play. It was hardly to
be expected that they would. He
was only an office boy in an up
town building, an orphan, and
unknown. He was stockily build,
and had true blue eyes, a freckled
nose, and a shock of red hair that
refused to keep in place no matter
how much the comb was used. At
a gue»s he said his age was fifteen,
but of this he could not be sure;
his size, however, warranted the
conclusion. And he was honest—
that his employer knew, and for
it he was fully trusted. He had
come to the town frieudJess and
had been taken into a hospitable
home as an act of charity. His
sincere gratitude and willingness
to serve had gotten him his present
place, and unfailing fund of cheer
fulness had kept it for him.
He started at the bottom, being
given his board and a small room
in an outbuilding as .1 sleeping
apartment for his services. Now
he was getting five goliars a week
and his board, with the additional
privilege of attending night school,
in which by close application, he
was making prodigious strides to
ward the rudiments of an ed
ucation.
Every normal boy is a baseball
fanatic at 15, ana Joe was no ex
ception to this rule; the baseball
microbe had bitten deeply into
his soul, and there is no remedy
for this desease, and so he was
deeply affected by it. His dream
at night were shot through with
curving balls and safe centerfield
three-bugger hits, and flying clouds
of dust from his pantaloons as he
slid into the home plate safe, and
was slapped breathless by the
boys and hailed as the deliverer of
his team. These were aircastles,
but even so he had the faith of a
grain of mustard seed to believe
that such dreams would some time
come true. And yet the team on
his side of town that his soul con
sumed itself in anxiety to serve,
studiously allowed his youthful
ambition to go unrealized, and
set the teeth of his desire on edge
with the very sour grapes of dis
appointment. Even when he offered
eagerly to carry the bats and bring
water for the players they seemed
to think it a piece of condescension
that he was granted that menial
employment.
This was a vicissitude of fortune
that it was difficult for Joe to un
derstand, but still the star of the
unconquered will to achieve shone
serenely in his breast. So out of
his scant earnings he hired a small
colored boy at odd times to act as
catcher, while he practiced the
twists and turns of the accomplished
pitcher. This was done without
the knowledge ot those who other
wise would have poured cold water
upon his building ambition. Then
suddenly and unexpectedly life
took on all of the colors of the
rainbow for Joe. His employer
went with his family to the country
for a month’s vacation, a d
generously paying Joe’s salary
for the full month, also gave him
that much vacation.
As time often brings not a few
roses, at this particular time it
happened that a major league
pitcher, who had been disabled
by an accident, came to visit Joe’s -
town, and spent two weeks of his
enforced idleness with a sister who
lived there. By dint of sheer good
forture, Joe, who had gone to the
station to see the idol arrive, man
aged to get his grips to carry and
gave him some requested infor
mation regarding the streets and
numbers.
This brought him into the good
graces of the pitcher, who was so
much impressed by the willingne&s
of the boy to be of service that he
attached him to his person as his
errand boy while he remained in
. the town.
And then because the boy loved
the game so, the big pitcher took
enough interest in him to show
him how to hold the ball and de
liver it so as to best make the bat
ter fan the air and fizzle out. It
could not be said about Joe that he
did not learn quickly; metaphor
ically speaking, he had an abnor
mal appetite for eating up curves.
Jonesboro and his own town
were trying it out three weeks
after this. This championship of
the amateur league of the surround
ing towns was to be decided that
afternoon. Joe was there; only
death could have kept him away.
The field was filled with ardent
disciples of the great game; base
ball epithets were bandied about
like shuttle-cocks, a world event
centered in youthful breast, the
earth revolved around 'the dia
mond. Carletown did herself proud
in furnishing a record breaking
attendance for the auspicious hour.
All in vain did the local team at
tempt to stem the tide that set in
agianst them. Three pitchers were
knocked out of the box in the first
six innings, and retired in a dilapi
dated and crestfallen condition.
The field was filled with two-bag
gers and the enemy sent out from
the home-plate in endless success
ion ; indeed, one of their tall and
gawky players bent nearly double
in the last half of the sixth inning
and lifted the hall clear over the
left field fence for a home run. An
oppressive and significant silence
settled down over the Carletown
crowd; being beaten on their home
field in the last game of the season
was putting one over them that
was hard to bear. Some said the
Jonesboro pitcher was a semi-
professional, but nobody could
prove it so the statement fell flat
and the Slaughter of the innocent
went on.
The list of Carletown pitchers
was exhausted. The Carletown
captain dashed down his bat and
proposed to give up the game.
“ What’s the use of keeping at it,”
he said, “when they can’t miss a
HAVE YOU A IITTIF FUTURE • iTtZEN Y^UR HOME? 'mil. ToU SHOULC
