The Alaska citizen., 1912-05-13

games in Pittsburg with the pennant at the time only possibility more Tor less remote. The Pirates still had a chance and they were fight ling hard for every game, especially as they were playing on their home grounds.
 The first contest of the series was on Saturday afternoon before a crowd that packed the gigantic stands which Isurround Forbes Field The throng wanted to see the Pirates win be. cause they were Pirates and the Giants beaten because they were the Giants and were sticking their heads above the other clubs in the race always think of the horse show when l play in Pittsburg, for they have the diamond horse shoe of boxes there, you know. No; I'm Wrong-its at the Metropolitan Opera House they have the diamond horse shoe; but it ought to be at the horse show. Anyway, the dia- mond horse shoe of boxes was do- ing business at Forbes Field that Saturday afternoon
 This story is going to be about Iumpires, but the reader who has never seen the Forbes Field folks must get the atmosphere before let the yarn into the block. Once. on a bright, sunny day there. l muffed fly after fly because the glint of Sol's rays on the diamonds blinded me. Josh" Devore is so afraid that he will lose social caste when he goes to Pittsburg that he gets his finger nails manicured be- fore he will go on the field. And the lady who treated him one day polished his digts to such an ulti. mate glossiness that the sun flashed on them, and he dropped two flies in left field.
 Look here. Josh," warned McGraw after the game, q hire you to play ball and not lead cotillions Get some pumice stone and rub it on your finger nails and cut out those John Drew manicures"
 Well, this crowd Is worse after umpires than the residents of the bleachers, The game on that Sat urday worked out into a pitchers battle between Marty O'Toole, the expensive exponent of the spitball, and "Rube" Marquard, the great lefthander. Half of Who's Who in Piusburg" had already split white gloves applauding when, along about the fourth or fifth inning, Fred Clarke got as far as third base with one out. The score was nothing for either side as yet, and of such a delicate nature was the contest that one run was likely to decide it.
 Hans" Wagner, the peerless, and the pride of Pittsburg, was at the bat. He pushed a long fly to Murray in right field, and John caught it and threw the ball home. Clarke and the ball arrived almost smul- taneously. There was slide, a tumble of players, and a small cloud of dust blew away from home plate.
 We're out" bawled MT. Brennan, the umpire, jerking his thumb over his shoulder with a conclusiveness that forbade argument. Clarke jumped up and stretched his hands four feet apart, for he recognizes no conclusiveness when "One is called against him.
 Safe that much,' he shouted in Brennan's ear, showing him the four foot margin again with his hands.
 There was roar from the dia- mond horse shoe that, if it could have been canned and put on a phon- ograph, would have made any one his fortune because it could have cScH '"i hSu oii tO iStoihpoiJ iio' HE pictures of lions and other wild beasts to make them realistic.
 Say" said Clarke to Brennan, 'I know pickpocket that looks honest compared to you, and I'd rather trust my watch to a second story worker"
 Brennan was dusting off the plate and paid no attention to him. But Clarke continued to snap and bark at the umpire as he brushed himself off, referring with feeling to MT. Brennan's immediate family, and weaving into his talk a sketch of the umpire's ancestors, for Clarke is a great master of the English language as fed to umpires.
 MT Clarke" said Brennan, turn ing at last, you were out. Now beat it to the bench before you beat it to the clubhouse"
 Clarke went grumbling and all the afternoon was after Brennan for the decision, his wrath increas- ing because the Pirates finally lost the game, although they would not have won it had they got that de- cision. And the crowd was roar ing at Brennan, too. throughout the