The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1902-10-16
MARTY BROWN.
MASCOT"
BY RALPH H. BARBOUR.

MI ARTY was small, snub-nosed.
| lVI freckle-faced youth who had been
adopted as a mascot by the Summer
| vile Baseball club, and whose chief
| duty was to care for the bats. After
many victories, there came a day of
| disaster for the nine, with an injured
left fielder, and no one to put in his
| place.
Boy Aver meanwhile had searched
unsuccessfully for a player to take
the injured Webster's place, and had
just concluded to apply to Vulcan's
captain for one of his substitutes, when
he turned to find Marty at his side.
"Are yer lookin' fer Teller to play
left field?"
"Yes," answered Bob, eagerly. "Do
you know of anyone?"
Marty nodded.
"Who?"
"Me."
Bob stared in surprise, but Marty
looked back without f1inching 81 can
play, Bob; not like you, of course, but
pretty well. And, besides, there amt
no one else, is there? Give me a show,
will yer?"
Bob's surprise had given place to
deep thought. "Why not?" he asked
himself. Of course Marty could play
ball; what Summerville boy couldn't,
to some extent? He turned and strobe
to the bench, and Marty eagerly
watched him comforting with the 9TH
ers. In a moment he turned and
nodded. The last half of the last in
ming began with the score ~ to 9 in ia
vor of Vulcan.
"Play carefully, fellows" shouted
Vulcan's captain, as Hamilton went to
bat. "We've got to shut them out"
eff youse can" muttered Marty.
seated on the bench between Bob and
Wolcott.
1t looked as though they could. Bob
groaned as Hamilton popped a short
fly into second baseman's hands, and
the rest of the fellows echoed the
mournful sound.
''Lift it, Will; lift it," implored Bob
as Pickering strobe to the plate. And
lift it he did. Unfortunately. however.
when it descended it went plump into
the hands of right field. In the stand
half the throng were on its feet. Bob
looked hopelessly at Warner as the
pitcher selected bat.
"Cheeru up, Bob!" cried the latter, grin
ming. I'm going to crack that ball or
know the reason why!"
The Vulcan pitcher was slow and
careful. They had taken the wearied
Baker out and put in a new twirler
Warner let his first effort pass unno-
ticed, and looked surprised when the
umpire called it a strike But he re-
ceived the next one with hearty well
come, and sent it speeding away for
safe hit, taking first base amid the wild
cheers of the little group of blue-and-
white-decked watchers. Hamilton hur-
ried across to coach the runner, and
Bob stepped to the plate. His contribu-
ton was a swift liner that was too
hot for the pitcher, one that placed
Warner on second and himself on first
Then, with Hamilton and Sleeper both
coaching at the top of their lungs,
the Vulcan catcher fumbled a ball at
which Howe had struck, and the two
runners moved on. The FESTIVE audi
ence had overfowed on to the field now.
and excitement reigned supreme. An
other strike was called on Home, and
for moment Summerville's chances
appeared to be hopeless. But minute
later the batter was limping to first.
having been struck with the ball, and
the pitcher was angrily grinding his
heel into the ground.
webster at bat!" called the
scorer.
"That's you, Marty" said Wolcott.
eff you never do another thing, my
boy, swat that ball"
Marty picked out bat and strobe
courageously to the plate. A roar of
laughter greeted his appearance.
Get on to Blue Jeans!" "Give us a
home run, kid" "Say, now, sonny,
don't fall over your pants!'
1t needed just that ridicule to dispel
Martyrs nervousness. He was angry.
How could he help his pants being
long? he asked himself, Indignantly.
He'd show those dudes that pants"
hadn't anything to do with hitting
BASEBALL He shut his teeth hard,
gripped the bat tightly, and faced the
pitcher. The latter smiled at his adj
versary, but was not willing to take
any chances, with the bases full. And
so Needless of the reouests to oRose
him an easy one, Joel" he delivered
swift, straight drop over the plate.
"Strike!" droned the little umpire.