The Washington times., 1912-07-17
Johnson Clouts Long Home
Run Off Recruit Pitcher
Bell.
BY SENATOR"

Ha! Ha! Twas a sad, yea. a cruel
joke that Manager Griffith played on
his time friend and boon compan-
ion. Jeems Jawn Callahan. He turned
his eat em-alive" hurler on the in
vaders and they curled up and died in
the very first inning. Final score:
Johnson. 7; White Sox, 2.
grabbing that battle, thus setting TIC
odd game to date. When he showed UP
on the battle field and ordered ''Rube"
Peters to warm up, he fancied him
self already assured OF the result But
and this but" is serious, too, my
friends-when he saw the kansas Cy-
clone" getting up steam over near the
home coop, he threw up his hands and
feebly asked Harry Lord to douse his
head with Ice water.
II don't see why Mr.. Griffith is al.
ways having Mr.. Johnson pitch" mur-
INJURED the sweet young thing in the
lavender suit to her, escort. the bis.
chubby cuss in the blue serge, as they
took their seats In the box upstairs.
1T isn't fair. that's all, and I'm going
to write to Mr. Noyes and have him
tell MIR. Griffith to have some other
pitcher pitch once in a WHILE"
Explaining the Science.
"Sh-s-sh," from the red-faced escort,
"Mr. NOyes doesn't know any more
about baseball than q Chinaman. He
leaves It all 20 Grife ard Griff-well, lit
tie girl, nobody in the world knows
He lives baseball. He eats, it., he
dreams 1t. morning, noon and night.
1t isn't cruel to have johnson pitch
today: It's plain. baseball. common
sense. Ha, Ha! Look at Callahan
down there going into Mysteries"
"Oh, goody! Goody" laughed the
sweet young thing, as the home boys
began their bingling in the first frame.
See little Foster get on. Was that an
error"
mo. indeed said the escort. He
nearly took Peters hand Off that's ali,
and-wow, look at Milan streak it to
second on that poor heave OF Lords s.!
Wow! Wow!'
Crash! Crash
crash of 'Chick's?' Wasn't that a peach
erino? Wow, wow; right on a line over
second. Guess that boy can't pound the
pill, eh, wot? There comes Foster and
Milan in with our first two tallies. Our
$4,000 beauty; amt he sweet? Tell It to
me, little girl; tell 1t to me, II Griff
hasn't landed prize pippin In that first
sacker."
Her Turn to Cheer.
"Oh, there's two out now," murmured
the sweet young thing In the second
frame, ''and here's poor Mr.. Johnson.
They oughtn't to make those poor
pitchers strike at the ball. They should
rest in preparation for-wow, look at
him hit IT. See, it's going right over Mr..
Collins head. Look, 1t may go over
the fence and kill some of those boys on
those houses. Goody, goody-run, run.
Walter; run as fast as you can. All,
wasn't that home run great, Will?
Right down there in the corner in
eenter cent =, tisid: But Mr.; Milan, the pret-
caught It, don't you think?"
Caught that plunk? Not in a million
years" howled the escort. mot in a
million years. If II weren't for that
fence that ball would never stop roll
ing. Wow, what a blow! Right from the
heart out, my dear"
why don't our boys hit Mr. Bell
| some more; get some more home runs
and things?' asked the sweet young
thing during the third, fourth, and fifth
innings.
well. that glnk, whoever he is, is
wild as crow, but he's got a lot OF
STUFF on the ball, you see," from the
escort. But here comes Benz. Now
watch us slam him to the far corners
What did l tell you? See, he's passed
McBrlde WOW, wow-look at that wal
lop Of young Shanks! My, what drive
Good for three bags. Let's Mcbride
score. too, doesn't It? Tell II to me II
that Kid Shanks isn't the classiest we've
| years.
That's all right, Walter. You car
fan once in while. You need a rest
anyway. Go over and let Mike Martin
| wave that towel at you. and-look, there
goes another drive. Yep that's Danny
| Moeller, the boy with the pliable shoul,
| der, See, he's scored Shanks. Thata,
boy thata-boy, Danny, you're there