The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1886-08-12
BELLEVUE, LA. THURSDAY, AUGUST y, 1885,

decided not to be
skeleton at the feast of fun, hence the
inane smile of an imbecile spread itself
dutifully over my face.
What have the Blues done now?"
f1odestly inquired as a terrific shout
lifted the air.
'.They caught the ball on the fly"
my friends answered triumphantly, in
one breath.
.Ah, but where's the fivp' and ]
gazed vacantly about.
No one heard me, the noise was deaf
ening; my friends forgot my existence.
/ felt as Insignificant as an honest poll
tician at convention. Even the old
negro who stood guard over the heap
of polished clubs, lost his dignity; that
dearest treasure of the African soul,
went out to nothingness. He waved
his greasy hat and pointed his long
black finger, while his voice roared
like lion. In that wild moment l
mutuered under my breath: is 1t an
African Jungle, or lunatic asylum?"
Wise mother nature changed to more
suitable accompaniment; the golden
lighthad turned to leaden grey; the
fairy clouds were heavy and threat
ening; the sweet seductive voices of
invisible spirits had changed into
hoarse means. My eyes ached with
staring, my lips were chapped, and l
was stupid and dazed. Selling the
opportunity let my features relapse
into look of utter misery no longer
| cared to learn this amusement (?)
People might sneer; ambition was dead
within me. just as these frightful feel
ings beset me, my glance rested on the
pitcher who had viciously sent the ball
out on its journey, and who then turned
suddenly to face the spectators.
! His steps were hurried. Thank the
gods, he means to do something
amusing at last" said with great
sigh of relief.
The crowd, mad with excitement
still cheered and applauded. The
pitchers manner meant something un-
usual; as he drew nearer his steps
faltered, his lips moved tremulously,
his face paled.
''The strong emotion of certain
victory is upon him." said rousing to
new interest. My pulse leaped in sym.
pathy.
The thrill of triumph hushed the
noisy demonstration. At least that
was my Interpretation of the sudden
silence of the crowd. AS he approached
near my ears, acutely sensitive,
heard him exclaim ''my arm is broken. !"
At this arose to my feet and ap-
plauded frantically. My frozen spirit
was at fever heat, my numb faculties
were stirred to appreciation by his
realistic acting. At last l understood
baseball. ''The pitcher is pretending
his handle is broken" shrieked, over
come with glee. The next moment the
crowd gathered about him and con-
cealed him from view.
s'His arm is broken" Iheard. Then
dead silence. A chill struck me like
that experienced over a stage tragedy;
a pang of grief as if it might be real.
One rarely overcomes this emotion,
if the actor be great.
.'Surely that youth is an embryo Sal
vini," I exclaimed in tones of enthusi-
asm.
."Ah, how his face expresses pain!'
This intellectual phase of baseball
pleased me; but the boy was absorbed
into the great crowd. the crowd melted
away.
Giving one swift ook of apprehension
towards the actors in the scene, and a
curiously amused glance at me, my es-
cort hurried me home. l had an i'm.
preston that he was quivering with in
! ternal laughter; but asked no more
! questions. Repeated snubbings had
made me cautious. Of course the
broken arm act was the grand finale oi
; the play. 1t was thrilling, it was real.
!, istic. 1t was a magnificent perfor-
nance; but it was not in the least
funny.
Besides, found out afterwards that
the whole thing was humbug. | saw
those baseball '.boys'' the next day,
dressed like ordinary people, and they
were all men.-ArkGnSas Traveller.