The Washington herald., 1912-07-28

How a modest, self-respectine girl or
woman could ever read that dreadful
pink sheet In a Sunday paper has al
ways been q mystery to me. The very
color Of II brings tears to the eyes. and
the headlines awaken feelings OF awe and
wonder in the minds of peaceably in
clined femininity. Usually. II get the
paper first take the pink sheet from the
other portion and hand 1t over gladly and
unhesitatingiy to the male members of
the family.
Last Sunday a man offered me the use
of his season ticket for the week II I'd
sit through the, entire game on Monday.
Well, I went. and raked up courage
to 60 alone. was jostled about by a
gooS-aatured crowd IN that cul de sac
entrance leading to the gates. and the
big fellow who takes tickets beamed
tenignly on me when I attempted TO
slip between him and one Of the wings
OF the horizontal windmill arrangement
they have there for counting heads
Then he considerably pushed me and the
windmill along together.
Chaperon Ahead.
In front of me was q woman with
snow white hair chaperoning two stylish
ly dressed. refined appearing girls who
were doing their best to keep pace with
their chaperon up the incline, for II
Was nearly time for the game to begin.
This way, girls. I've followed the
bat twenty years. and I always camp
at frst. Like to be near the dog-house,' ''
said the chaperon- Although mystified
and possibly a bit horrifled. I felt that
these might be useful companions for
me. SO sid into an empty seat behind
them. near first base.
There were dozens more women at that
game than one ever sees men at a mat
inee performance. Way across what was
evidently the diamond" was a stand
crowded With people. A man near me
said. Got a Dustin good bunch over in
the bleachers today" Somehow I seemed
to know where to look. but to me they
resembied mushrooms in q COW pasture
after a heavy rain. with all those UNI
brellas raised to keep on the sun. The
enigmaticaI scoreboard and giant bull to
the right interested me. but q gong
crushed. the men In uniforms who had
been tossing balls about. got into posi-
ton. and the gray-haired embodiment of
feminine refinement in front Of me re-
marked: ''rrot out your Tigers, Jenny"
"Johnson Would Pitch,
Walter johnson would pitch for the
Nationals, bawled the one-armed mega
phone man, and women as well - men
made such q fuss over Walter that 1t
was impossible for me to hear who would
be the Detroit pill twirier,'' as beard
less youth near me termed the pitcher.
But the way Walter Johnson slammed
that ball at the man with the bat and
never once struck him. though people
were yelling. Strike him out. Walter%
Hand him out the hot stun. Johnny
boyy, Gee, but there sure was steam
on that ballr' got me % excited that
beGan to talk to walter myself.
Two women behind. me gave me lots
Of points, for one Of thsm seemed to be
coaching her friend. who. like myself.
was grsenhorn. The feminine far"
according to her tell. was intimately ac-
quaiuted with all Of ''our boys" She
spoke familiarly Of Chick" and "Kiddo
EDDIE" knew .'Gri6." and pointed out
his wife In q nearby bog: told us that
Joe Engie IL but nineteen years old and
the youngest man on the team, called
IittIe Morgan .peacherine. and knew
the heart secrets .of both married and
single. The men about her grew weary
OF her, but al she said was news to mo.
Now, whoop her up, you Climbers"
said sour looking man beside me, ''and
see that you climb" Well, We did. but
his vinegar visage didn't help do It.
Out on . line n1ay nrst baps tat man
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