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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