Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1910-08-13

"Then the other team went out to
warm up. They hadn't been on the
diamond more'n minute until | de-
cided they didn't need any warmin': +:
they were just about the warmest I
ever saw already. The way they threw
that ball around the bases. stopped siz.
zlin' liners on the ground. In the air.
any OIL place. was somethin scan'lous!
| couldn't see where we had look
in an ventured to say ns much to
our cap'n. old Sparticus
"'You jes' wait till Red DugGan.
our pitcher, gets to shootin' 'em over"
he said They won't show up quite so
frisky then
"'Well.' says, that may he. but II
them gulneas can bat the way they
field you'll have to send me out
horse to chase the balls
"'You leave that to Red was his
come back.
"'Aye. aye. cap'n.' said calmly. try.
in hard to fight Off the nervous chill
I felt comm on. 'I'll leave II to Red
But l would gladly have turned over
all that was left of that five spot to
have been seventy-fve miles from
Kansas at that very minute"
Here my companion paused In his
narrative and leaned over toward me.
as though to ascertain whether was
still listening or asleep For my part,
however, l was becoming more and
more absorbed In his recital as he pro-
gressed, Of which fact earnestly as
sured him. and he straightway re-
sumed
''The game started For downright
intensity Of feelin' an noise an riot I
lever saw anythin' before or since that
could touch that Kansas crowd when
his jumps wadded out to homeplate
an piped out: Play bn nll"
1.-THE yell that was turned loose then
seemed to jar that yellow streak clean
out of my system. | felt that wanted
to do somethin' grand an noble felt
that 1t would be a real pleasure to die
for the cause-but I didn't know the
pleasure was so near at hand.
II looked around over the crowd to
find the nice, fat gentleman who had
brought me out to the grounds In his
bubble wagon, I thought he would be
up in the big pagoda with the swells,
but he wasn't there. Finally I located
him-he was out on the blcachers with
his coat an collar off an moppin' his
shiny bald head with his handkerchief.
for the sun was blaZin' hot.
HE was the happiest man on the
grounds. He had smile on that
reached way around back Of his ears.
an he was shoutin' louder than any
body. which was goin' some. He GER
tainly was the kingpin Of that whole
bleacher push. ! noticed the others all
sorter looked up to him an seemed to
regard him as the whole works.
heard some one call him colonel. Col
onel Cole. an as saw him sittin'
there so fat an jolly. the old rime
came to my mind:
''Or King Cole
Was merry oil soul,
"He sure looked the part. an from
then on l called him-to myself. Of
course-oI' King Cole mention all
this to you now for this king person
took very active part in the events
soon to follow.
well. as ! say. the game began.
The visitin' team went In to bat. We
took the field You could have heard a
pin drop now throughout the whole
pagoda. Red Duggan was on the rub
Der. He shot one over an 1t struck
the catcher's mitt with heavy thud.
"'Str-ike one" piped the jumps.
"a mighty yell arose from the home
crowd-the visitin' rooters were dumb.
Their holler came a moment later
when the batter landed on the next
ball pitched an smashed out n three
Dagger
1.-THE friends an relatives an finan-
cial hackers Of the visitin' team. indl
vidually an collectively, threw n fit.
They yelled like band of Flathead
Indians In Utah conversin' with
stray gatherin' of Kickapoos some
where up In Idaho,
"Then another slugger did a pity
pat to the plate The runner on third
was leadin' far OF. fairly itchin' for
a chance to sneak in home. From the
bleachers came a pleadin' voice, high
an clear, above all the noise an din.
1t was the voice OF OIL King Cole.
"'Steady, ladr he was sayin' Steady
now. boy! Hold 'em. Red. hold 'em!
We know you can do 1t. SON.!
THE pitcher kept his eye on the run
ner as he ground the ball into his hip;
then he turned an shot 1t In. The ball
few high an wide. The next two
filings were even worse. That jumpin',
twistin', DARN form on third was wor-
ryin' Red Duggan. Then came the
voice from the bleachers again:
Don't mind him. lad! Play for
the batter; workin' nice. son! You
can do 1t. ladr
Three balls for the batter an no
~''S;cs. The next cuts the plate-he
lets II go by. He strikes hard at the
next. an the next.
"'Batter out! roars his jumps.
"The next up follows along the same
route. maxim two down. with the run
ner still glued fast to third. Red Dug
gan had steadied.
1.-THE bleachers an the pagoda were
In riotous tumult The bettin' became
fast an furious, OIL King Cole placin'
sestertii right an left among visitin'
sports.
1.-THE catcher wigwagged the signal
to the pitcher for high inshoot. The
batter swung f1ercely. Bifr!-a nifty
bingle to short. who snapped the ball