Just as we were in the midst of the argument a fresh policeman happened along and "chipped into the game" with the remark that if there was any fighting to be done he would himself take a hand in it.

That was my chance. For what had I taken boxing lessons unless I could at least do a policeman? "Come on!" I yelled and then I smashed him. He was not the only policeman on the beat, however. There were others—in fact, several of them, and they clubbed me good and plenty, finally leading me away with the nippers on.

Arriving at the police station, and a pretty tough-looking object I was, as you may imagine, I immediately sent for the President of the club, who, as good luck would have it, was also a Police Commissioner. When he put in an appearance he looked at me in astonishment and then asked me what I had been doing.

I told him that I hadn't been doing anything, but that I had tried to do the whole police force, and with very poor success. I was released on honor that night and the next morning appeared before Alderman Buck, who listened to both sides of the story, and then let me go, thinking by my appearance, doubtless, that I had already been punished enough. After court had adjourned we all adjourned on my motion to the nearest saloon, where we had several rounds of drink and then—well, then I started in to celebrate a victory that was, after all, a good deal more like a defeat.

While thus engaged I was unfortunate enough to run up against the young lady that I had already determined to make Mrs. Anson, and not being in the best of condition, she naturally enough did not like it, but as Rudyard Kipling says—that is another story.

That experience ended the wild-oats business for me, however, and although the crop that I had sown was, comparatively speaking, a small one, yet it was more than sufficient for all my needs, and I now regret at times that I was foolish enough to sow any at all.

The only other row that I ever had of any consequence took place on a street car one day when I was going out to the ball grounds, a game between the Athletics and Chicagos being scheduled for decision. The most intense rivalry existed at that time between these two organizations and the feeling among their partisans ran high. A gentleman on the car—at least he was dressed like a gentleman—asked me what I thought in regard to the relative strength of the two organizations. At that time I had some $1,500 invested in club stock and naturally my feelings leaned toward the club of which I was a member, still I realized that they were pretty evenly matched, and I so stated.

He then remarked in sneering tones, "Oh, I don't know. I guess they play to win or lose as will best suit their own pockets."

I informed him that if he meant to insinuate that either one of them would throw a game, he was a liar.

He gave me the lie in return and then I smashed him, and I am not ashamed to say that I would do it again under the same circumstances.

I have heard just such remarks as that made even in this late day, remarks that are as unjust to the players as they are uncalled for by the circumstances. Lots of men seem 'to forget that the element of luck enters largely into base-ball just as it does into any other business, and that things may happen during a contest that cannot be foreseen either by the club management or by the field captain.

An unlucky stumble on the part of a base runner or a dancing sunbeam that gets into a fielder's eyes at some critical time in the play may cost a game; indeed, it has on more than one occasion, and yet to the man who simply judges the game by the reports that may read in the papers the thing has apparently a "fishy" look, for the reason that neither the sunbeam nor the stumble receives mention.

If every sport and business man in this world were as crooked as some folks would have us to believe, this would indeed be a poor world to live in, and I for one would be perfectly willing to be out of it.

The real truth of the matter is that the crooks in any line are few and far between. That being the case it's a pretty fair old sort of a world, and I for one am glad that I am still in it, and very much in it at that.



CHAPTER IX. WE BALL PLAYERS GO ABROAD.

The first trip that was ever made across the big pond by American ball players and to which brief reference was made in an earlier chapter, took place in the summer of 1874. London was, as a matter of course, our first objective point, and I considered myself lucky indeed in being a member of one of the organizations that was to attempt to teach our English cousins the beauties of America's National Game.

The two clubs selected to make the trip were the Bostons, then champions, and the Athletics, and the players who were to represent them, together with their positions, are given below:

BOSTON POSITIONS ATHLETIC Catcher John E. Clapp A. G. Spalding Pitcher Jas. D. McBride Jas. O'Rourke First base West D. Fisler Ross C. Barnes Second base Jos. Battin Harry Schafer Third base Ezra B. Sutton Geo. Wright Shortstop M. E. McGeary A.J. Leonard Left field Albert W. Gedney Cal C. McVey Right field A. C. Anson Harry Wright Center field Jas. F. McMullen Geo. W. Hall Substitute Al J. Reach Thos. H. Beals Substitute J. P. Sensenderfer Sam Wright, Jr. Substitute Tim Murnane

James White of the Boston team declined to go at the last moment, his place being taken by Kent of the Harvard College team while Al Reach was kept from making the trip by business engagements. Alfred H. Wright of the "New York Clipper" and Philadelphia "Sunday Mercury," and H. S. Kempton of the "Boston Herald" both accompanied us and scored the base-ball games that were played on the trip, while the first-named officiated in the same capacity when the game was cricket. In addition to these men, both clubs were accompanied by large parties of friends who were anxious to see what sort of a reception would be accorded to us by our British cousins, who had never yet witnessed a base-ball game, their nearest approach to it having been to look on at a game of "rounders."

The entire cabin of the steamship Ohio had been engaged for ourselves and our friends, and on July 16th a great crowd assembled at the wharf to see us off and to wish us God-speed on our journey. The trip across was fortunately a pleasant one and as we were a jolly party the time passed all too quickly, the seductive game of draw poker and other amusements of a kindred sort helping us to forget that the old gentleman with the scythe and hourglass was still busily engaged in making his daily rounds.

It was my first sea voyage, and to say that I enjoyed it would be to state but the simple truth. The element of poetry was left largely out of my make-up and so I did not go into ecstasies over the foam-crested waves as did several of the party, but I was as fond of watching for the flying fish that now and then skimmed the waves and for the porpoises that often put in an appearance as any of the rest of the party. If I speculated at all as to the immensity of the rolling deep by which we were surrounded, it was because I wished that I might be able to devise some plan for bottling it up and sending it out West to the old gentleman to be used for irrigating purposes. That such an amount of water should have been, allowed to go to waste was to me a matter for wonderment. I was looking at the practical side of the matter, and not at the poetical.

July 27th we arrived at Liverpool and as the majority of us had grown tired of the monotony of sea life we were glad enough once more to set foot on solid land. With fourteen games of ball to be played and seven games of cricket we had but little time to devote to sight-seeing, though you may be sure that we utilized the days and nights that we had off for that purpose.

There was considerable curiosity on the part of our British cousins to see what the American Game was like and as a result we were greeted by large crowds wherever we went. We were treated with the greatest kindness both by press and public and words of praise for our skill both at batting and fielding were to be heard on all sides. Exhibition games between the two clubs were played at Liverpool, Manchester, London, Sheffield and Dublin, the Boston Club winning eight games and the Athletics six.

When it came to playing cricket we proved to be something of a surprise party. In these games we played eighteen men against eleven and defeated with ease such, crack, organizations as the Marylebone, Prince's, and Surrey Clubs in London, the Sheffield Club at Sheffield; the Manchester Club in Manchester and the All-Ireland Club in Dublin, while the game with the Richmond Club was drawn on account of rain, we having the best of it at that time. While I was, comparatively speaking, a novice in this game, at which the Wrights were experts, they having enjoyed a reputation as first-class cricketers in America for years, yet I managed to make the highest score of all in our game with the All-Ireland Eleven, and to hold my own fairly well in the other cricket games that were played.

It is impossible for me to speak too highly of the treatment that was accorded to us on this trip both in England and Ireland, where peer and peasant both combined to make our visit a pleasant one. We were entertained in royal style wherever we went and apparently there was nothing too good for us. Lords and ladies were largely in evidence among the spectators wherever we played and among our own countrymen residing in the British metropolis we were the lions of the day.

The contrast between the crowds in attendance at our games there and those that greeted us at home attracted my attention most forcibly. An English crowd is at all times quiet and sedate as compared with a crowd in our own country. They are slower to grasp a situation and to seize upon the fine points of a play. This, so far as base-ball was concerned, was only to be expected, the game being a strange one, but the same fact was true when it came to their own National game, that of cricket. There was an apparent listlessness, too, in their playing that would have provoked a storm of cat-calls and other cries of derision from the occupants of the bleaching boards at home.

It was our skill at fielding more than at batting that attracted the attention of the Britishers and that brought out their applause. Our work in that line was a revelation to them, and that it was the direct cause of a great improvement afterwards in their own game there can be no reason to doubt.

Between sight-seeing and base-ball and cricket playing the thirty days allotted to our visit passed all too quickly and when the time came for us to start on our homeward journey there was not one of the party but what would gladly have remained for a longer period of time in "Merry England," had such a thing been possible. It was a goodly company of friends that assembled at the dock in Queenstown to wish us a pleasant voyage on August 27th, which was just one month to a day from the date of our arrival, and we were soon homeward bound on board of the steamship Abbotsford. The voyage back was anything but a pleasant one and more than half the party were down at one time and another from the effects of seasickness. Old Neptune had evidently made up his mind to show us both sides of his character and he shook us about on that return voyage very much as though we were but small particles of shot in a rattle-box.

We arrived at Philadelphia Sept. 9, where we were the recipients of a most enthusiastic ovation, in which brass bands and a banquet played a most important part, and after the buffeting about that we had received from the waves of old ocean we were glad indeed that the voyage was over.

The impression that base-ball made upon the lovers of sport in England can be best illustrated by the following quotations taken from the columns of the London Field, then, as now, one of the leading sporting papers of that country:

"Base-ball is a scientific game, more difficult than many who are in the habit of judging hastily from the outward semblance can possibly imagine. It is in fact the cricket of the American continent, considerably altered since its first origin, as has been cricket, by the yearly recourse to the improvements necessitated by the experience of each season. In the cricket field there is at times a wearisome monotony that is entirely unknown to baseball. To watch it played is most interesting, as the attention is concentrated but for a short time and not allowed to succumb to undue pressure of prolonged suspense. The broad principles of base-ball are not by any means difficult of comprehension. The theory of the game is not unlike that of 'Rounders,' in that bases have to be run; but the details are in every way different.

"To play base-ball requires judgment, courage; presence of mind and the possession of much the same qualities as at cricket. To see it played by experts will astonish those who only know it by written descriptions, for it is a fast game, full of change and excitement and not in the least degree wearisome. To see the best players field even is a sight that ought to do a cricketer's heart good; the agility, dash and accuracy of tossing and catching possessed by the Americans being wonderful."

This, coming at that time from a paper of the "Field's" high standing was praise, indeed, but the fact remains that the game itself, in spite of all the efforts made to introduce it, has never become popular in England, for the reason perhaps that it possesses too many elements of dash and danger and requires too much of an effort to play it.

Commenting after our return to this country upon this tour and its results, Henry Chadwick, the oldest writer on base-ball in this country and an acknowledged authority on the game, said:

"The visit of the American base-hall players to England and the success they met there, not only in popularizing the American National Game but in their matches at cricket with the leading Cricket Clubs of England, did more for the best interests of base-ball than anything that has occurred since the first tour through the country of the noted Excelsior Club of Brooklyn in 1860. In the first place, the visit in question has resulted in setting at rest forever the much debated question as to whether we had a National Game or not, the English press with rare unanimity candidly acknowledging that the 'new game of base-ball' is unquestionably the American National Game. Secondly, the splendid display of fielding exhibited by the American ball players has opened the eyes of English cricketers to the important fact that in their efforts to equalize the attack and defense in their national game of cricket, in which they have looked only to certain modifications of the rules governing bowling and batting, they have entirely ignored the important element of the game, viz., fielding; and that this element is so important is a fact that has been duly proved by the brilliant success of the American base-ball players in cricket, a game in which the majority of them were mere novices, and yet by their ability as fielders in keeping down their adversaries' scores they fully demonstrated that skill in fielding is as great an element of success in cricketing as bowling and batting, if it be not greater, and also that the principles of saving runs by sharp fielding is as sound as that of making runs by skillful batting. But, moreover, they have shown by this self-same fielding skill that the game of base-ball is a better school for fielding than cricket, the peculiarity of the play in the former game requiring a prompter return of the ball from the outfield, swifter and more accurate throwing, and surer catching than the ordinary practice of cricket would seem to need.

"Another result of the tour has been to show our English cousins the great contrast between the character and habits of our American base-ball professionals and those of the English professional cricketers, taking them as a class. One of the London players warmly complimented the American players on their fine physique as athletes and especially commented on their abstemious habits in contrast, as the paper stated 'with our beer-drinking English professional cricketers.' In fact, the visit of the baseball players has opened old John Bull's eyes to the fact that we are not as neglectful of athletic sports as he thought we were, for one thing, and in our American baseball representatives we presented a corps of fielders the equal of which in brilliancy of play England has never seen even among the most expert of her best trained cricketers. So much for our National Game of base-ball as a school for fielding in cricket. We sent these ball players out to show England how we played ball, but with no idea of their being able to accomplish much at cricket; but to our most agreeable surprise they defeated every club that they played with at that game, and Bell's Life does the American team the justice to say that an eleven could no doubt be selected from the American ball players that would trouble some of the best of our elevens to defeat.

"The telegrams from England in every instance referred to the games played as between twenty-two Americans and eleven English, but when the regular reports were secured by mail it was found that it was eighteen against twelve, quite a difference as regards the odds against side. The first dispatch also referred to the 'weak team presented against the Americans,' but the score when received showed that the eighteen had against them in the first match six of the crack team which came over here in 1872, together with two professionals and four of the strongest of the Marylebone Club. Englishmen did not dream that the base-ball novices could make such a good showing in the game, and knowing nothing of their ability as fielders they thought it would be an easy task to defeat even double their own number, the defeat of the celebrated Surrey and Prince's Club twelves in one inning, and of the strong teams of Sheffield, Manchester and Dublin by large scores, opened their eyes to their mistake, and very naturally they began to hold the game that could yield such players in great respect.

"Worthy of praise as the success of our base-ball representatives in England is, the fact of their admirable deportment and gentlemanly conduct on and off the field, is one which commends itself even more to the praise of our home people. That they were invited to so many high places and held intercourse with so many of the best people fully shows that their behavior was commendable in the extreme. Considering therefore the brilliant success of the tour and the credit done the American name by these base-ball representatives, it was proper that their reception on their reappearance in our midst should be commensurate with their high salaries, for in every respect did they do credit to themselves and our American game of 'base-ball.'"



CHAPTER X. THE ARGONAUTS OF 1874.

The players that made the first trip abroad in the interest of the National Game may well be styled the Argonauts of Base-ball, and though they brought back with them but little of the golden fleece, the trip being financially a failure, their memory is one that should always be kept green in the hearts of the game's lovers, if for no other reason than because they were the first to show our British cousins what the American athlete could do when it came both to inventing and playing a game of his own.

That they failed to make the game a popular one abroad was no fault of theirs, the fault lying, if anywhere, in the deep-rooted prejudice of the English people against anything that savored of newness and Americanism, and in the love that they had for their own national game of cricket, a game that had been played by them for generations.

I doubt if a better body of men, with the exception of your humble servant, who was too young at the game to have been taken into account, could have been selected at that time to illustrate the beauties of the National game in a foreign clime.

They were ball players, every one of them, and though new stars have risen and set since then, the stars of thirty years ago still live in the memory both of those who accompanied them on the trip and those who but knew of them through the annals of the game as published in the daily press and in the guide books.

Harry Wright, the captain of the Boston Reds, was even then the oldest ball player among the Argonauts, he having played the game for twenty years, being a member of the old Knickerbockers when many of his companions had not as yet attained the dignity of their first pair of pants. He was noted, too, as a cricketer of no mean ability, having succeeded his father as the professional of the famous St. George Club long before he was ever heard of in connection with the National Game. As an exponent of the National Game he first became noted as the captain of the celebrated Red Stocking Club of Cincinnati, a nine that went through the season of 1869, playing games from Maine to California without a single defeat. As captain and manager of a ball team Mr. Wright had few equals, and no superiors, as his subsequent history in connection with the Boston and Philadelphia Clubs will prove. He was a believer in kind words and governed his players more by precept and example than by any set of rules that he laid down for their guidance. As a player at the time of this trip he was still in his prime and could hold his own with any of the younger men in the outfit, while his knowledge of the English game proved almost invaluable to us. Harry Wright died in 1895, and when he passed away I lost a steadfast friend, and the base-ball world a man that was an honor in every way to the profession.

A.G. Spalding was at that time justly regarded as being one of the very best pitchers in the profession, and from the time that he first appeared in a Boston uniform until the time that he left the club and cast his fortunes with the Chicagos he was a great favorite with both press and public. As Harry Chadwick once wrote of him, "In judgment, command of the ball, pluck, endurance, and nerve in his position he had no superior." He could disguise a change of pace in such a manner as to deceive the most expert batsman, while as a scientific hitter himself he had few superiors. He had brains and used them, and this made him a success not only as a ball player but as a business man. As a manufacturer and dealer, Mr. Spalding has acquired a world-wide reputation, and it is safe to say that none glory in his success more than do his old associates on the ball field.

James O'Rourke, or "Jim," as we all called him, was a splendid ball player and especially excelled in playing behind the bat and in the outfield, which position he played for many years. A sure catch, an active fielder, a good thrower, and a fine batsman, O'Rourke was always to be relied upon. Born of Irish parentage, he hailed from the Nutmeg State and was when I last heard of him in business at Bridgeport, Conn., and reported as doing well. He was a quiet, gentlemanly young fellow, blessed with a goodly share of Irish wit, and a rich vocabulary of jawbreaking words.

Ross Barnes, who held down the second bag, was one of the best ball players that ever wore a shoe, and I would like to have nine men just like him right now under my management. He was an all-around man, and I do not know of a single man on the diamond at the present time that I regard as his superior. He was a Rockford product, but after his ball playing days were over he drifted to Chicago and was at the last time I saw him circulating around on the open Board of Trade.

"Harry" Schafer was a good, all-around player, but I have seen men that could play third base a good deal better than he could. Sometimes his work was of a brilliant character, while at others it was but mediocre. He was a native of Pennsylvania and his usually smiling face and unfailing fund of good nature served to make him a general favorite wherever he went.

George Wright, a brother of the lamented Harry, was another splendid all-around ball player, and one that up to the time that he injured his leg had no equal in his position, that of shortstop. He was one of the swiftest and most accurate of throwers, and could pull down a ball that would have gone over the head of almost any other man in the business, bounding into the air for it like a rubber ball. As a cricketer he ranked among the best in the country. Retiring from the ball field, he became a dealer in sporting goods at Boston, Mass., where he still is, and where he is reported to have "struck it rich."

Andrew J. Leonard, a product of the Emerald Isle, was brought up in New Jersey, and excelled as an outfielder, being a splendid judge of high balls, a sure catch, and a swift and accurate long-distance thrower. He was a good batsman and a splendid base runner, and was nearly as good a player on the infield as in the out. He is at present in Newark, N. J., where he is engaged in business and reported as fairly successful.

Cal C. McVey, the heavy-weight of the team, came like myself from the broad prairies of Iowa, and was built about as I am, on good, broad Western lines. He was a fairly good outfielder, but excelled either as a catcher or baseman. He was conscientious and a hard worker, but his strongest point was his batting, and as a wielder of the ash he had at that time few superiors. He is somewhere in California at the present writing, and has money enough in his pocket to pay for at least a lodging and breakfast, and does not have to worry as to where his dinner is to come from.

Young Kent, the Harvard College man, who took Jim White's place on the trip, was a tall, rangy fellow and a good amateur ball player. He never joined the professional ranks, but since his graduation has written several books, and made himself quite a reputation in literary circles.

John E. Clapp, the regular catcher of the Athletics, was a cool, quiet, plucky fellow, and one of the best catchers at that time the profession could boast of. He hailed originally from New York, I believe, and while in England surprised the cricketers by his fine catching, no ball being too hot for him to handle. Unless I am greatly mistaken, he is now a member of the Ithaca, N. Y., police force, and an honored member of the blue-coat and brass-button brigade.

James Dickson McBride, who was better known the country over as "Dick" McBride, was at that time the most experienced man in his position that the country could boast of, he having been the regular pitcher of the Athletics since 1860. He had speed in a marked degree, plenty of pluck and endurance and a thorough command of the ball. He was a man of brains, who always played to win, and to his hard work and general knowledge of the fine points of the game the Athletics owed much of their success. "Dick" was a good cricketer, too, that being his game prior to his appearance on the diamond. He hailed from the Quaker City, where he still resides, having a good position in the postoffice.

West D. Fisler was a fine, all-around ball player, remarkable for his coolness and nerve. He was a very quiet sort of fellow and one of the last men that you would pick out for a really great player. He could play any position on the team, was thoroughly honest and always played the best he knew how. He is still living in the neighborhood of Philadelphia, and though not rich in this world's goods, has still enough to live on.

Joe Batten was the youngest member of the Athletic team and at that time quite a promising young player. He did not last long with the Athletics, however, and after playing on one or two other league teams he dropped out sight. He was a bricklayer by trade, and the last time I heard of him he was in St. Louis working at his trade.

Ezra B. Sutton then ranked as one of the best third-base players in the country. He was one of the most accurate throwers that I ever saw; a splendid fielder and a good batter, though not a particularly heavy one. When he finally quit the game he settled down in business at Rochester, where he was still living the last I heard of him. A good man was Sutton, and one that would compare very favorably with the best in his line at the present day.

M. H. McGeary was a Pennsylvanian by birth, though not a Dutchman, as his name goes to prove. He was not only an effective and active shortstop but a good change catcher as well, being noted for his handling of sharp fly tips while in the latter position. He was in Philadelphia when last heard from, and doing fairly well.

Albert W. Gedney was the postoffice clerk of the New York State Senate at the time of our trip, and was one of the best of left fielders, being an excellent judge of high balls and a sure catch, especially in taking balls on the run. He is now a prosperous mill owner near New York City and does not have to worry as to where the next meal is coming from.

James McMullen, who played the center field, was an active and effective man in that position. He was also a fairly good left-handed pitcher, and a rattling good batsman, who excelled in fair-foul hitting. McMullen was an all-around good fellow, and when he died in 1881 he left a host of friends to mourn his loss.

J. P. Sensenderfer accompanied the club as, a substitute, as did Timothy Murnane, and both were good, all-around ball players, and are both still in the land of the living and doing more than well, Philadelphia being the abiding place of the former, while the last named is the sporting editor of the "Boston Globe."

I take particular pride in calling the attention of the public to the fact that but one player of all those making the trip went wrong in the after years, that one being George W. Hall, who accompanied the Bostons as a substitute and who in company with A. H. Nichols, James H. Craver and James A. Devlin was expelled by the Louisville Club in 1877 for crooked playing, they having sold out to the gamblers.

That there should have been but one black sheep among so many, in my estimation speaks well for the integrity of ball players as a class and for the Argonauts of 1874 in particular.

That the great majority of these men have also made a success in other lines of business since they retired from the profession is also an argument in favor of teaching the young athletic sports. A successful athlete must be the possessor of courage, pluck and good habits, and these three attributes combined will make a successful business man no matter what that particular line of business may be.

For the companions of that, my first trip across the Atlantic, who are still in the land of the living I have still a warm place in my heart. I have both slept and eaten with them, and if we have disagreed in some particulars it was an honest disagreement. Whenever the information comes to me that some one of them is doing particularly well, I am honestly glad of it, and I have faith enough in human nature to believe that they have the same feeling so far as I am concerned.

For the two that are dead I have naught but kind words and pleasant memories. They were my friends while living, and dead I still cherish their memory.

To me they are not dead, only sleeping.



CHAPTER XI. I WIN ONE PRIZE AND OTHERS FOLLOW.

If it is true, as some people allege, that marriage is a lottery, then all I have to say regarding it is that I drew the capital prize and consequently may well be regarded as a lucky man, for truer, fonder, and more sensible wife than I have, or a happier home cannot be found even though you search the wide world over. It was in Philadelphia that I wooed and won her, and I was by no means the only contestant that was in the field for her heart and hand. There were others, and one in particular that was far better looking and much more of a lady's man than myself, but when he found that I had a pull at the weights he retired, though not without a struggle, and left me in undisputed possession of the field.

Just why I happened to be the successful suitor is now, and always has been, to me a mystery. I have asked Mrs. Anson to explain, but somehow I can get very little satisfaction. I was by no means a model man in the early days of my courtship, as my experiences detailed elsewhere go to prove, but I was an honest and faithful wooer, as my wife can testify, and that perhaps had as much to do with the successful termination of my suit as anything. I had been used to having everything that I wanted from my babyhood up, and after I had once made up my mind that I wanted my wife, which I did very early in our acquaintance, I laid siege to her heart with all the artifices that I could command.

I am sometimes inclined to believe that I fell in love with her, at least part way, the very first time that I met her, else why should I remember her so vividly?

Her name was Virginia M. Fiegal, and she was one of a family of two, and the only daughter, her father being John Fiegal, a hotel and restaurant man in the Quaker City.

The first time that I ever saw her was at a ball given by the National Guards in Philadelphia, and though she was then but a fair-haired, blue-eyed girl of some twelve or thirteen summers, and still in short dresses, she attracted my attention. Just how she was dressed on that occasion I could not tell you to save my life, nor do I think I could have done so an hour after the ball was over, but for all that the memory of her sweet face and girlish ways lingered with me long after the strains of music had died away and the ball-room was given over to the flitting shadows.

Some months, or weeks, perhaps, I have really forgotten which, drifted by before I saw her again, and then it was at a club ball, and this time I paid her considerable attention, in fact, I liked her better than any girl that I had yet met and was not afraid to show it, although I could not then muster up the necessary courage to go on boldly about my wooing. In fact, I left a great deal to chance, and chance in this case treated me very kindly.

Some time later, when the summer days were long, I met her again in company with a Miss Cobb, later the wife of Johnnie McMullen, the base-ball pitcher, at Fairmount Park, and that was the day of my undoing. After a pleasant time I accompanied her home to luncheon at her invitation, and that I had lost my heart long before the door of her house was reached I am now certain.

Once inside the door I asked her rather abruptly if her father or mother was at home, and I fancied she looked rather relieved when she found out that the only reason that I had asked her was that I wanted to smoke a cigar, and not to loot the house of its valuables.

Prior to that time I had circulated among the ladies but little, my whole mind having been concentrated on base-ball and billiard playing, and the particular fit of my coat or the fashion of my trousers caused me but little concern. From that afternoon on, however, things were different, and I am afraid that I spent more time before the mirror than was really necessary. I also began to hunt up excuses of various kinds for visiting the house of the Fiegals, and some of these were of the flimsiest character. I fancied then that I was deceiving the entire family, but I know now that I was deceiving only myself.

I was not the only ball player that laid siege to Miss Virginia's heart in those days. There was another, the handsome and debonair Charlie Snyder, who was a great favorite with the girls wherever he went. I became jealous very early in the game of Charlie's attentions to the young lady that I had determined upon making Mrs. Anson. It was rather annoying to have him dropping in when I had planned to have her all to myself for an evening, and still more annoying to find him snugly ensconced in the parlor when I myself put in an appearance on the scene.

So unbearable did this become that I finally informed him that I would stand no more trespassing on my stamping grounds, and advised him to keep away. But to this he paid but little attention and it was not until my sweetheart herself, at my request, gave him his conge that he refrained from longer calling at the house. It was the old story of "two is company, three is none," and I was greatly relieved when he abandoned the field.

I was now the fair Virginia's steady company, and long before I came to Chicago we understood each other so well that I ceased to worry about any of the callers at her home and began to dream of the time when I should have one of my own in which she should be the presiding genius of the hearth-stone.

She was not in favor of my coming to Chicago, and had it been possible for me to remain with honor in Philadelphia I should have done so, but that being impossible I left for the great metropolis of the West, promising to return for her providing her father would give his consent to our marriage as soon as possible.

I think one of the first things almost that I did after arriving in Chicago was to write the daddy of my sweetheart asking for her hand. I had been a little afraid to do so when at close range, but the farther away I went the bolder I became, for I knew that whatever his answer might be I was certainly out of any personal danger.

The old gentleman's answer was, however, a favorable one, and so after my first season's play in Chicago was over I returned to Philadelphia and there was united to the woman of my choice, and I am frank to confess that I was more nervous when I faced the minister on that occasion that I ever was when, bat in hand, I stood before the swiftest pitcher in the league.

The first little visitor that came to us was a baby girl that we called Grace, who was born October 6, 1877. That seems a long time ago now. The baby Grace has grown to womanhood's estate and is the happy wife of Walter H. Clough, and the proud mother of Anson McNeal Clough, who was born May 7, 1899, and who will be taught to call me "grandpa" as soon as his baby lips can lisp the words.

Adrian Hulbert Anson was our next baby. He was born Sept. 4, 1882, and died four days afterward, that being the first grief that we had known since our marriage. Another daughter, Adele, crept into our hearts and household April 24th, 1884, and is still with us.

Adrian C. Anson Jr. came into the world on September 4th, 1887, and died on the eighteenth day of January following. He lived the longest of all of my boys and his death was the cause of great grief both to his mother and myself.

The storks brought me another daughter, my little Dorothy, on August 13th, 1889, and she, thank God, is still engaged in making sunshine for us all.

John Henry Anson was born on May 3d, 1892, but four days later the angel of Death again stopped at my threshold and when he departed he bore a baby boy in his arms, whither I know not, but to a better world that this I feel certain, and one to which his baby brothers had journeyed before him.

Virginia Jeanette arrived November 22d, 1899, and has already learned to kick at the umpire when her meals are not furnished as promptly as she has reason to think they should be. She is a strong, healthy baby, and bids fair to remain with us for some years to come.

Before returning again to the ball field, on which the greater portion of my life has been spent, I wish to record the fact that all that I have and all that I have earned in the way both of money and reputation in later years I owe not to myself, but to Mrs. Anson. She has been to me a helpmeet in the truest and best sense of the word, rejoicing with me in the days of my success and sympathizing with me in the days of my adversity.

It was owing to her good counsel that I braced up in the days when she was my sweetheart, and it was to please her that I have staid braced up ever since, and am consequently still strong in mind and limb and as healthy a specimen of an athlete as you can find in a year's travel, albeit a little too heavy to run the bases still and play the game of ball that I used to play.

I have never found it necessary when I have lost $250 on a horse race or a match of any kind to go home and inform Mrs. Anson that owing to my bad judgment I had lost $2.50, but on the contrary I have made it a point to tell her the truth at all times, so that she knows just as well how I stand to-day as I do myself.

She and I are not only husband and wife in the truest sense of the word, but we are boon companions as well, and I always enjoy myself better on a trip when Mrs. Anson accompanies me that I do if I am alone.

I am as proud of my daughters as any man can well be and my only desire is that they shall all be as good as their mother and make the husbands of their choice as good and true wives.

At the present writing the only one of my birds that has left its parent nest and started out to build a home of its own is in Baltimore, where her husband, as fine a fellow as any man could wish to have for a son-in-law, is at present engaged in superintending the putting up of an office building contracted for the George H. Fuller Co., of Chicago, in whose employ he is.



CHAPTER XII. WITH THE NATIONAL LEAGUE.

It was some time in the fall of 1875 and while the National League was still in embryo that I first made the acquaintance of William A. Hulbert, who afterwards became famous as the founder of that organization and the man whose rugged honesty and clear-headed counsels made of base-ball the National Game in the truest and broadest sense of the word.

At that time Mr. Hulbert was the President of the Chicago Base-Ball Club, and in company with A. G. Spalding he came to Philadelphia for the purpose of getting my signature to a contract to play in the Western metropolis.

It was the ambition of the Chicago management to get together a championship team, and with that object in view they had already signed the big-four who had helped so many times to win the pennant for Boston, viz.: Cal McVey, first base; James White, catcher; Ross Barnes, second base; and A. G. Spalding, pitcher, and the latter, who was to captain the Chicago team, had suggested my engagement as third baseman. I finally agreed to play with the team at a salary of $2,000, or $200 more than I was then getting with the Athletics.

I well remember Mr. Hulbert's appearance at that time. He stood in the neighborhood of six feet, and weighed close to 215 pounds. He had a stern expression of countenance and impressed one right from the start as being a self-reliant business man of great natural ability, and such he turned out to be. He was good-hearted and of a convivial nature when business hours were over, but as honest as the day was long, and would tolerate nothing that savored of crookedness in any shape or form. As an executive he had but few equals and no superiors. He was quick to grasp a situation and when once he had made up his mind to do a thing it took the very best sort of an argument to dissuade him.

During the winter of 1875-6 the National League sprang into being, the Hon. Morgan G. Bulkeley of Hartford, who was afterwards elected Governor of Connecticut, being its first President, he being succeeded by Mr. Hulbert the following year. The clubs composing the league were as follows: Athletics of Philadelphia, Bostons of Boston, Hartfords of Hartford, Chicagos of Chicago, St. Louis of St. Louis, Louisville of Louisville, Ky., Mutuals of New York, and Cincinnati of Cincinnati, Ohio.

When I came to consult with the future Mrs. Anson in regard to my proposed change of base she not unnaturally objected to my going so far from home, for I had learned to regard Philadelphia as my home by that time.

I naturally thought it would be an easy matter for me to get my release from Chicago, and being naturally anxious to please her I made two trips to Chicago that winter for the purpose, and finally did what no ball player ever did before—offered $1,000 to be released from my promise.

It was no go, however, as both Messrs. Hulbert and Spalding had made up their minds that I should play on their team, and both of them knew me well enough to know that I would keep my word at all hazards, no matter what my personal likes or dislikes in the matter might be.

The last few months of my stay in Philadelphia passed all too quickly, and a short time before the opening of the regular season found me in the Garden City ready to don a Chicago uniform and do the very best I could to help win the pennant for the latest city of my adoption.

The constitution of the new league provided for an entrance fee of $100 per club, and also provided that no city of less than 75,000 inhabitants could become a member. It also provided that each city should be represented by one club only, this prohibiting the danger of local opposition, such as the Professional Players' Association had suffered from in Philadelphia, St. Louis and other cities. Other reforms were the adoption of a player's contract, which enabled the clubs to keep their players and prevented them from being hired away by rival organizations.

This was the first step toward the reserve rule that followed later. It also provided for the expelling of players who were guilty of breaking their contracts or of dishonesty, and such players were to be debarred forever afterwards from playing on the league teams. Gambling and liquor selling on club grounds were prohibited and players interested in a bet on the result of games or purchasing a pool ticket were liable to expulsion.

The make-up of the Chicago team in full for the National League's initial season was as follows; A. G. Spalding, pitcher, captain and manager; James White, catcher; A. C. Anson, third base; Ross Barnes, second base; Cal A. McVey, first base; J. P. Peters, shortstop; J. W. Glenn, left field; Paul A. Hines, center field; Robert Addy, right field; and J. F. Cone, Oscar Bielaski, and F. H. Andrus, substitutes.

All through the season of 1876 the most intense rivalry existed between the Chicago and Boston Clubs. The management of the latter organization, smarting under the fact that the "big four" had been hired away from them by the Western Metropolis, had gotten together as strong a team as was possible under the circumstances, the list including Harry Wright, manager; J. E. Borden ("Josephs"), T. H. Murnane, F. L. Beals, H. C. Schafer, A. J. Leonard, J. H. O'Rourke, J. F. Manning, F. T. Whitney, George Wright, John F. Morrill, Lewis Brown, T. McGinley, and W. R. Parks.

Our strongest opponents, however, proved to be the Hartford Club, of which Robert Ferguson was captain and manager, and which numbered among its players Allison, Cummings, Bond, Mills, Burdock, Cary, York, Remsen, Cassidy, Higham, and Harbidge.

As I have said before, it was anything to beat Chicago, so far as the Bostons were concerned, but this feat they were unable to accomplish until the very tail end of the season, and after we had beaten them in nine straight games.

The first game that we played on the Boston grounds that season I remember well, because of the enormous crowd that turned out to witness the contest. The advent of the "Big Four" in a new uniform was of course the attraction, and long before the hour set for calling the game had arrived the people were wending their way in steady streams toward the scene of action. Every kind of a conveyance that could be used was pressed into service, from the lumbering stage coach that had been retired from active service, to the coach-and-four of the millionaire. Street cars were jammed to suffocation, and even seats in an express wagon were sold at a premium.

It was Decoration Day, and therefore a holiday, and it seemed to me as if all Boston had determined to be present on that occasion. By hundreds and thousands they kept coming, and finally it was found necessary to close the gates in order to keep room enough in the grounds to play the game on. With the gates closed the crowd began to swarm over the fences, and the special policemen employed there had their hands more than full of trouble.

The "Big Four" were given a great ovation when they put in an appearance, and of course the whole team shared in the honors that were showered upon them. The game that followed was, as might have been expected, played under difficulties, but thanks to the excellent pitching of Spalding and the fine support given him by the entire team we won by a score of 5 to 1, and the Hubbites were sorer than ever over the "Big Four's" defection.

Our other victories over the Boston aggregation that season were as follows: June 1st, at Boston, Chicago 9, Boston 3; June 3d, at the same place, Chicago 8, Boston 4; July 11th, at Chicago, Chicago 18, Boston 7; July 12th, at the same place, Chicago 11, Boston 3; and July 15th, again, Chicago 15, Boston 0; September 15th, at Boston, Chicago 9, Boston 3; September 16th, Chicago 7, Boston 2; and September 22d, at Chicago, Chicago 12, Boston 10. September 23d we met Boston for the last time during the season, and, anxious as we were to make our victories over them ten straight, that being the number of games called for by the schedule, we failed to do so, being beaten by a score of 10 to 9.

I think that Harry Wright was happier that day when O'Rourke crossed the home plate and scored the winning run than he would have been had somebody made him a present of a house and lot, so anxious was he to win at least one game from Chicago during the season.

Both the Athletics and Mutuals failed to play out their scheduled games in the West that fall, and as a result they were expelled at the annual meeting of the League held in Cleveland the December following, leaving but six clubs to contest for championship honors in 1877.

That first year of the League was not a success when viewed from a financial standpoint, as not a single one of the clubs that composed it made any money, even the Chicagos, who carried off the pennant, quitting loser. The men who had organized it were by no means discouraged, however, and that they finally reaped the reward of their pluck and perseverance is now a matter of history.

In the fall I again signed with Chicago, as did Spalding, McVey, Barnes, Peters, Andrus, and Glenn of the old team, while Jim White returned to his first love, the Bostons. The new-corners on the team were Bradley, who had pitched for the St. Louis Club the year before, and who was accounted as being one of the best in the business, and H. W. Smith a change catcher and outfielder.

This was a year of disaster as far as Chicago was concerned, and we brought up the tail end of the pennant race, the whip going to Boston, which won 31 games and lost 17, while Louisville stood second on the list with 28 games won and 20 lost, to its credit, Hartford being third, St. Louis fourth, and Chicago fifth, the Cincinnatis having failed to weather the financial storm, being expelled from the League because of non-payment of dues.

There would doubtless have been a different tale to tell in regard to the championship of 1877 had it not been for the crookedness of some of the Louisville players. The team on paper prior to the opening of the season was justly regarded as one of the strongest that had ever been gotten together, and going off with a rush in the early part of the year its success seemed to be almost assured. By the middle of the season the team had obtained so great a lead that the race seemed to be all over but the shouting.

In those days poolrooms were a much greater evil than they are at the present time, and the betting on baseball was hot and heavy. The Louisville having such a lead were favorites at long odds. When the club started on its last Eastern trip they had some twelve games to play, out of which they had less than half to win in order to land the pennant. On this trip enough games were thrown to give Boston the pennant, and when the directors of the Louisville Club came to sift matters down they had but little difficulty in finding out the guilty parties, who were A. C. Nichols, William H. Craver, George Hall and James A. Devlin.

How much money this quartette netted by its crooked work is not known to this day, but it has been proven that Devlin secured but a beggarly $100 as his share, as once the others had him in their power they could compel him to do just whatever they pleased under threats of exposure.

These four players were promptly expelled for selling games by the Louisville Club, whose action was later ratified by the League, and though they made application time after time in later years to be reinstated, their applications were denied and they passed out of sight and out of hearing as far as the base-ball world was concerned.

They were all of them good ball players, better than the average, and Devlin, a really great pitcher, undoubtedly had a brilliant future before him. The inability to stand temptation, however, caused his downfall and left him but little better than a wreck on the shores of time.

The year, taken as a whole, has been generally set down as being the darkest in the history of the League. As in the preceding year, all the clubs lost money and the outlook seemed indeed a dark one.

The darkest hour comes just before the dawn, however, and the following year saw a change for the better in base-ball prospects.



CHAPTER XIII. FROM FOURTH PLACE TO THE CHAMPIONSHIP.

The year 1878 saw but six clubs in the league race, there being the Boston, Cincinnati, Providence, Chicago, Indianapolis and Milwaukee clubs, and they finished in the order named, the Hub's representatives winning by a margin of four games from their nearest competitor. The early part of the year saw the Cincinnatis in the lead, with Chicago well up toward the front, and it looked for a time as though the honors of the season might be carried off by the Western clubs. The Cincinnati Club went into the air during the summer, however, and surrendered the first place to Boston, the latter team playing finely together, and though it rallied strongly afterward it found itself unable to overtake the leaders.

The Chicago team was not a strong one that season and minor ailments and accidents made it still weaker than it would otherwise have been. A. G. Spalding having retired from active ball playing, had gone into the sporting goods business, and Robert Ferguson had been selected to take his place as manager and captain of the team, which was made up as follows:

Robert Ferguson, shortstop and captain; Anson, left field; Start, first base; Cassidy, right field; Remsen, center field; Hankinson, third base; McClellan, second base; Frank Larkin, pitcher; Harbidge, catcher; Hallman and Reis, substitutes.

There were several weak spots in this team and it was not long before the fact became evident. Ferguson himself, while a fair shortstop, was by no means a top-notcher, and neither was he a really good manager, he not having the necessary control over the men that he had under him.

Harbridge was not even a fair catcher; in fact, according to my estimate, he was a poor one. He was a left-handed thrower and made awkward work getting a ball to the bases.

Joe Start was a good ball player, indeed, a first-class man. He was always to be depended upon, worked hard, was a sure catch, a good fielder and a first-class wielder of the ash. He was known far and wide as "Old Reliable" and his reputation was in every way above reproach, both on and off the field.

McClellan, who played the second base, I first saw play at St. Paul in 1876. He was a nice fielder, but only a moderate batsman. Taking him all around, however, he was better than the average, but not to be compared with some of the men who afterwards played in that position.

Cassidy, the right fielder, was only an average player, and Hankinson, who played third base and change pitcher, was never in the first class.

Larkin, who had pitched the year before for the Hartford Club, was a rattling good man and a really first-class pitcher, who would have won more games than he did had he met with the support that he should have had.

Remsen was a fine fielder and a fast base-runner, but his weak point was in hitting. He was a good thrower, too, though I beat him in a match at Hartford by covering 127 yards and 4 inches, a performance that surprised some people who had wagered their money on his success.

During the greater part of that year I was troubled with a frog felon on my right hand that nearly incapacitated me from playing altogether. It was absolute torture to me to catch, but I managed to worry along with it in some sort of fashion, though unable to do myself justice, and for that reason I stood lower on the list of averages than I might otherwise have done.

A felon is a mighty unpleasant thing to have at the best, and a man deserves some credit for playing ball at all that is afflicted in that way.

When the season ended none of the clubs had made any money, but the game was growing steadily in public favor, and it was evident to even the most superficial observer that there was "a good time coming."

The following year, 1879, saw a great many changes both in League memberships and in the personnel of its players. At the annual meeting held in Cleveland December 4, 1878, the Indianapolis Club resigned its membership and the circuit was filled by the admission of clubs from Cleveland, Buffalo and Syracuse. The Milwaukee Club afterward failing to come to time the Troy, N. Y., Club was taken in to fill the vacancy.

George Wright, one of the greatest players of the day, and the man to whom Boston owed much of its success in winning the pennant, deserted Boston for Providence, taking O'Rourke with him, and after the hardest sort of a fight with Boston, Chicago and Buffalo he succeeded in winning the pennant with that organization, he having the services of John M. Ward and "Bobby" Matthews as pitchers, Lewis J. Brown as catcher; Joe Start, M. H. McGeary and W. L. Hague on the bases; with "Tommy" Stark, Paul Hines and James O'Rourke in the field. Emil Grace and John Farrell replaced Brown and Hague toward the close of the season.

It was a great year of changes all around and the League teams taken as a whole were stronger than they had ever been before.

Among the pitchers outside of these I have already mentioned were such stars as McCormick, "Jimmy" Galyin, Bradley and Will White, all of whom are famous as twirlers in base-ball history.

The Chicago team was that season the strongest that the "Windy City" had yet put in the field. To succeed Ferguson, who had gone elsewhere, I was selected as captain and manager, a position that I have always had reason to believe came to me through the influence of Mr. Hulbert, and that I retained for many a year, through both good and evil report, finding it but a thankless job at best. The make-up of the team in full was as follows: Larkin, pitcher; Flint, catcher; Anson, first base; Quest, second base; Hankinson, pitcher and third base; Peters, stortstop; Dalrymple, Gore, Remsen and George Schaffer in the field, with Williamson alternating with Hankinson at third base.

Quest, Flint, Williamson and George Schaffer all came from the Indianapolis team of the year before, and Dalrymple, who afterward became a great favorite with Chicago "fans," from the Milwaukees.

Geo. C. Gore was a newcomer in the League ranks, he hailing from New Bedford, but he soon made for himself a name, being a first-class fielder and a batsman that was away above the average, as is shown by his record made in after years.

It was my first season as a first baseman, though T had played the position at odd times before, and that it suited me is shown by the fact that I led the League with a fielding average of .974 and stood first among the batsmen with .407, which was the largest percentage ever made up to that time. Flint that season stood first in the list of catchers, and Quest led the second basemen. It was some time during the close of the season that an unfortunate accident happened to Larkin, and one that caused his retirement from the diamond for some time afterward. A line ball from my bat struck him on the head, and as a result, it was at least so stated, he had to be sent to an asylum, where he remained for some time, though I believe that he afterwards fully recovered from the effects of the injury.

It was during this year also that the first reserve rule was adopted, it being in the shape of a signed agreement by the terms of which each League club was permitted to reserve five men for the following season, an agreement that I have always looked upon as being one of the best things that could have happened, for the reason that it enabled all of the clubs interested to reserve at least the nucleus of a strong team as a foundation upon which to build.

The season of 1880 I have always looked upon as a red letter one in my history, and for good reasons, as that year the Chicago team under my management brought the pennant to Chicago, and this in spite of the fact that the teams it had to, encounter were made up of first-class material in nearly every case.

The Chicago team of that season outclassed all of its competitors, it being made up as follows: Corcoran and Goldsmith, pitchers; Flint, catcher; Anson, first base; Quest, second base; Williamson, third base; Burns, shortstop; Dalrymple, Gore and Kelly in the field, and L. T. Beals, substitute.

Unlike the majority of the clubs the Chicago Club did not have to depend upon the services of one first-class pitcher, but had two, both of whom were "cracker-jacks," and were therefore able to play them on alternate days instead of breaking them down or laming them by continued and arduous services.

In catchers, too, the club was especially fortunate, as Flint, who ranked as one of the best of his day, had an efficient ally in Mike Kelly, who could fill the breach when necessary.

This was an especially strong team, too, at the bat, as is shown by the records, Gore leading the League with an average of .365, with myself second with .338, Dalrymple third with .332, Burns fifth with .309. In fielding Williamson led the third basemen with an average of .893, while the fewest hits of the year were made off Corcoran's pitching. Among the first basemen I held second place with a percentage of .977. Sullivan of the Worcester team being first with .982 to his credit.

The Chicago Club that year made a little money, but it was the only one of the lot that did, the others losing, that is, some of them, more because of bad management than for any other reason.

In consequence of an agreement in regard to the sale of liquors in club grounds the Cincinnati Club that season forfeited its membership, and at the annual meeting of the League held in New York December 8th, 1880, the Detroit Club was elected to the vacant place.

The team that had represented Chicago in 1880 was good enough for me, and also good enough for the club directors, and that we were able to hold the players was a matter for self-congratulation.

The only new man on the list in 1881 was Andrew Pearcy, who took T. L. Beal's place as substitute, and who cut but little figure, as he was called upon to play but seldom.

That the Chicago Club again won the pennant in 1881 was due to two reasons. First, its strength as a batting organization, and in this respect it was undoubtedly the superior of all its rivals, and, secondly, the superb team work, the entire team playing together as one man and having but one object in view, and that the landing of the championship. Record playing was entirely lost sight of by the members of the club, and sacrifice hitting was indulged in whenever a point could be made by so doing.

The race throughout the season for everything except the last place was a close and exciting one, and up to the very last week the result was in doubt, so close together were the four leaders.

When the season finally closed, however, we had 56 games won and 28 games lost to our credit, against 47 games won and 37 games lost by the Providence Club, which finished in the second place.

Buffalo came third with 45 games won and 38 games lost, and Detroit fourth with 41 games won and 43 lost; Troy being fifth, Boston sixth, Cleveland seventh and Worcester eighth on the list.

In batting that season I again led the list with an average of .399 and stood at the head of the first basemen with .975 to my credit.

When the season came to a close the majority of the League clubs had made money and base-ball was more popular than ever with the public, who had learned to look upon it as a square sport, and one over which the gamblers had no control whatever.

The grounds occupied by the Chicago Club at that time were the most accessible of any in the country, being situated on the lake front near the foot of Randolph street, and within five minutes' walk from any part of the business district. The only fault that could be found with them were that they were too small, both for the crowds that thronged them when an important game was being played, and because of the fact that the fences interfered too often with the performance of the League's star batsmen.

With such a team as the champions then boasted of what was the use of making any changes? No use whatever, and so the season of 1882 found the same old "White-Stocking" team in the field, the only new player that had been signed being Hugh Nichols, who came from Rockford, and who was signed as an outfielder.

There was no change either in the clubs that went to make up the League, each and every one of which was bent on wresting the championship from the Garden City, and with that object in view every other club in the league had been strengthened as far as was possible.

The attempt was a vain one, however, although the race from the start to the finish was a hot one, and one that kept the lovers of base-ball on tenter hooks until the season was over, while the betting in the poolrooms throughout the country was hot and heavy, and be it said right here, to the credit of the ball players, there was not the slightest suspicion or whisper of crookedness in connection with the games. The rivalry was most intense, and as a result the crowds that greeted the players everywhere were both large and enthusiastic, this being especially the case on the home grounds, where, owing to our long-continued success, we were naturally great favorites. The majority of the clubs in the League that season made money and to all appearances an era of prosperity, so far as the National Game was concerned, had begun.

The close of the season again saw the Chicago Club in the lead, they having won 55 games and lost 29, while Providence stood second on the list with 52 games won and 32 games lost to its credit.

Buffalo stood third, Boston fourth, Cleveland fifth, Detroit sixth, Troy seventh, while Worcester, as in the preceding year, brought up the tail end of the procession.

Brouthers of the Buffalo Club headed the batting list with a percentage of .369, while I came next with .367, and that I had had my eye on the ball throughout the season is a fact that the opposing pitchers could bear witness to.

Prior to the beginning of the season, the exact date being April 10, 1882, President Hulbert, the founder of the League, and one of the best friends that I had ever had either inside or outside of the profession, passed away, leaving a void in base-ball circles that was indeed hard to fill. It has often been a matter of sincere regret, both to myself and others, that he could not have lived to witness the fruition of all his hopes. Arbitrary and severe though he may have been at times, yet the fact remains that he was the best friend that the ball players had ever had.

Appreciating the possibilities of the game as a moneymaker, when rightly conducted, he bent his energy toward rescuing it from the hands of gamblers, into which it seemed about to fall, and place it where it belonged, at the head of all of American outdoor sports.

Many and many a time since than have I missed his cool-headed judgment, his cheering words and his sound advice, and I have no hesitation in saying to-day that to him the ball players owe even now a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid.



CHAPTER XIV. THE CHAMPIONS OF THE EARLY EIGHTIES.

The team that brought the pennant back to Chicago in the early '80s was a rattling good organization of ball players, as the "fans" who remember them can testify, and while they were the cracks of that time, and perhaps as strong a team as the League had seen up to that date, yet they were not as strong either as a team or as individual ball players as the team that represented Chicago several years afterward. The secret of the club's success in those days lay in its team work, and in the fact that a goodly portion of the time was spent in studying and developing the fine points of the game, which long practice made them fairly perfect in. There were one or two weak spots in its make-up, but so well did it perform as a whole that these weak spots were quite apt to be lost sight of when the time for summing up the result of the season's play had arrived.

In its pitching department the team was particularly strong at that time as compared with some other of the League clubs.

Larry Corcoran, upon whose skill great reliance was placed, was at that time in the zenith of his glory as a twirler. He came, if my memory serves me rightly, from somewhere in the neighborhood of Buffalo. He was a very little fellow, with an unusual amount of speed, and the endurance of an Indian pony. As a batter he was only fair, but as a fielder in his position he was remarkable, being as quick as a cat and as plucky as they made them.

A sort of an all-around sport was Larry, and a boxer of no mean ability. I remember a set-to that he had one night in the old club house with Hugh Nichols, in which he all but knocked Hughy out, greatly to that gentleman's surprise, as he had fancied up to that time that he was Corcoran's master in the art of self-defense.

After his release by the Chicago Club he drifted back East, where he pitched for a time in some of the minor leagues. Later on he was given another trial by the Chicagos, but his work proved unsatisfactory, he having outlived the days of his usefulness in the pitching line. After that he again went East, where he died several years ago.

Fred Goldsmith, the other pitcher, was a great big, over-grown, good-natured boy, who was always just a-going to do things that he never did. He, too, came from the East, and was, I believe, pitching for the Tecumseh, Canada, Club when he signed with us.

He was the possessor of a great slow ball and was always cool and good-natured. As a batsman he was only fair, and as a fielder decidedly careless. When it came to backing up a player "Goldy" was never to be relied upon, and after the play was over and he was asked why he had not done so, he would reply: "Oh, I'd a-bin thar ef I'd bin needed." But in spite of this the fact remains that he was rarely on hand when he was needed, and many an overthrown ball found its way into the field that would have been stopped had he been backing up the basemen in the way that he should have done.

I remember seeing him in a game at Troy, N. Y., once when pitching for Chicago, when he was a sight to behold. He was playing and the rain was coming down in torrents while the grounds were deep in mud and water. Hatless, without shoes and stockings and with his breeches roiled clear up to his thigh, as if he were preparing to ford the Hudson river, "Goldy" was working like a Trojan, and I am not over sure but that he was one at that time.

His arm was gone when he left us, and if he played ball any afterward, it was only in desultory fashion. He tended bar in different places for a time, but finally settled down to the business of market gardening near Detroit, where, from all that I can learn, he is making a good living.

Frank S. Flint, "Old Silver," originally hailed from St. Louis, where he first came into notice as the back stop of an amateur team.

He came to us direct from the Indianapolis Club, where he had been engaged in catching the delivery of "the only Nolan," who was at that time one of the most celebrated of the League pitchers. He was a fine ballplayer, a good, hard worker, but a weak batter, batting being his weakest point. He was generally reliable, and that in spite of the fact that he was a hard drinker, the love of liquor being his besetting weakness. A pluckier man never stood behind a bat, there never coming a ball his way that was too hard for him to handle, or at least to attempt to. In "Old Silver's" day the catcher's glove had not come into use, and all of his work was done with hands that were unprotected. Those hands of his were a sight to behold, and if there is a worse pair to-day in the United States, or a pair that are as bad, I should certainly like to have a look at them. His fingers were bent and twisted out of all shape and looked more like the knotted and gnarled branches of a scrub oak than anything else that I can think of.

Long before the gloves now used by catchers were invented I had a buckskin mitt made at Spalding's that I thought would fill a long-felt want, and this I finally persuaded "Old Silver" to try.

He tried it for about half of an inning, then threw it down, declaring it was no good, and went on in the old way. After his playing days in Chicago were over he went into the saloon business and died a short time afterwards of consumption. His wife died in California a little time after him with the same disease, which she had contracted while nursing him. Prior to her departure from Chicago and when she had been informed by a physician that her days were numbered, she sent for me, and after telling me that she had "roasted" me in the papers all her life, begged my forgiveness, saying that she had found out her mistake. This, of course, was granted.

Mrs. Keene and my wife saw that she had every comfort, and Mr. Keene, Mr. Spalding and myself furnished the money that took her to the Golden State, where she lived but a short time after her arrival.

Joe Quest, who played the second base, was another player who came to us from the Indianapolis team, but prior to that time he had been playing around New Castle, Pa. Joe was a good, reliable, steady fellow, but a weak batsman. He was a conscientious player, however, and one that could always be depended upon to play the best ball that he was capable of. His strongest point was trapping an infield fly, and in this particular line he was something of a wonder.

Joe played on several teams after leaving Chicago, and with varying success. Of late years he has been employed in the City Hall at Chicago, where he holds a good position.

Ed Wiliamson was another player who came to us from Indianapolis, where he had already made for himself quite a reputation. He, too, hailed originally from some-where around New Castle, and was playing in Pittsburg the first time that I ever saw him. My wife knew him long before I knew him, however. He was then a member of an amateur club in Philadelphia, for which she acted as a sort of treasurer, taking care of the money that they raised to buy balls with, etc.

Ed was, in my opinion, the greatest all-around ballplayer the country ever saw. He was better than an average batsman and one of the few that knew how to wait for a ball and get the one that he wanted before striking. He was a good third baseman, a good catcher and a man who could pitch more than fairly well, too, when the necessity for his doing so arose. Taking him all in all, I question if we shall ever see his like on a ball field again. He was injured some years later while the Chicago Club was making a trip around the world, and was never the same fellow afterward. After his retirement from the diamond he ran a saloon in company with Jimmy Woods, another ball-player, on Dearborn street, Chicago, which was a popular resort for the lovers of sports. He died of dropsy at Hot Springs, Arkansas, leaving a wife, but no children.

Williamson was one of the most popular of the many players that the Chicago Club has had. A big, good-natured and good-hearted fellow, he numbered his friends by the hundreds, and his early death was regretted by all who knew him.

Thomas E. Burns was playing with the Albany, N. Y., Club, who were then the champions of the New York State League when I signed him to play with Chicago. He was a fair average batter, but was hardly fast enough to be considered a really good shortstop.

He was a fair base-runner, using excellent judgment in that respect, and a first-class slider, going into the bases head first when compelled to make a slide for them, instead of feet first, like the majority of the players of that day and generation; in fact, he was more of a diver than a slider, and he generally managed to get there.

After his release by Chicago he went to Pittsburg, where I had secured him a five-year contract as manager at a handsome salary, and where he had some trouble that resulted in the club's breaking the agreement and in the bringing of a lawsuit, which he won.

He then took charge of the Springfield, Mass., Club, a member of the New England League, Springfield being not far from his old home at New Britain. Two years ago he took my place as manager of the Chicago Club, and that he has not made a success of it is due to certain causes that will be explained later on.

Abner Dalrymple was brought into the Chicago fold from Milwaukee, where he had been playing. He was only an ordinary fielder, and a fair base runner, but excelled as a batsman. I have said that he was a fair fielder, and in that respect perhaps I am rating him too high, as his poor fielding cost us several games that in my estimation we should have won. Dalrymple was a queer proposition, and for years a very steady player. He was never known to spend a cent in those days, and was so close that he would wait for somebody else to buy a newspaper and then borrow it in order to see what was going on. Later on he broke loose, however, and when he did he became one of the sportiest of sports, blowing his money as if he had found it and setting a hot pace for his followers.

He finally settled down again, however, and now holds a good railroad position in the Northwest, where he is living with his family. His was about the quickest case of "loosening up from extreme tightness" that I have ever run across.

George F. Gore, who played the center field, came here from New Bedford, Mass., being brought out by Mr. Hulbert, who was in charge of the club at the time he came to us. He was an all-around ball player of the first class, a hard hitter and a fine thrower and fielder, and had it not been for his bad habits he might have still been playing ball to-day. Women and wine brought about his downfall, however, and the last time that I saw him in New York he was broken down, both in heart and pocket, and willing to work at anything that would yield him the bare necessities of life.

Mike Kelly, who afterwards became famous in baseball annals as the $10,000 beauty, came to Chicago from Cincinnati, and soon became a general favorite. He was a whole-souled, genial fellow, with a host of friends, and but one enemy, that one being himself.

Time and time again I have heard him say that he would never be broke, and he died at just the right time to prevent such a contretemps from occurring. Money slipped through Mike's fingers as water slips through the meshes of a fisherman's net, and he was as fond of whisky as any representative of the Emerald Isle, but just the same he was a great ball player and one that became greater than he then was before ceasing to wear a Chicago uniform. He was as good a batter as anybody, and a great thrower, both from the catcher's position and from the field, more men being thrown out by him than by any other man that could be named. He was a good fielder when not bowled up, but when he was he sometimes failed to judge a fly ball correctly, though he would generally manage to get pretty close in under it. In such cases he would remark with a comical leer: "By Gad, I made it hit me gloves, anyhow."

After his return to Boston he played good ball for a time, but his bad habits soon caused his downfall, just as they had caused the downfall of many good players before him, for it may be set down as an axiom that baseball and booze will not mix any better than will oil and water. The last time that I ever saw him was at an Eastern hotel barroom, and during the brief space of time that we conversed together he threw in enough whisky to put an ordinary man under the table. After leaving Boston the "only Mike" had charge of Al Johnson's team at Altoona, Pa., but whisky had become at this time his master, and he made a failure of the managerial business. Not being able to control himself it is hardly to be wondered at that he failed when it came to the business of controlling others. He died some years ago in New Jersey, a victim to fast living, and a warning to all ball players. Had he been possessed of good habits instead of bad there is no telling to what heights Kelly might have climbed, for a better fellow in some respects never wore a base-ball uniform.

Tommy Beale was a nice, gentlemanly little chap, who had played at one time with the Boston Club. He was never a howling success as a ball player and after being released by Chicago he umpired for a while and then drifted down to Florida, where he had an orange grove and was doing well until, one night, "there came a frost, a killing frost," that not only destroyed his orange grove but that burst him up in business as well. Since that unfortunate event happened, I have lost sight of him, and where he is now, or what he is doing, I know not.

Hugh Nichols was a little fellow who came from Rockford, Illinois. He was never a star player, but was a fair and showy player, lacking in stamina. He was only a fair batsman, and after his release by Chicago he played for a time in some of the other League teams, principally Cincinnati. He then managed the Rockford team in the Illinois State League, after which he settled down as a billiard-room keeper, in which business he is still engaged.



CHAPTER XV. WE FALL DOWN AND CLIMB AGAIN.

At the annual meeting of the League held in Providence R. I., December 6th, 1882, the Worcester and Troy Clubs resigned their membership, neither of them being cities of sufficient size to support a team as expensive as one good enough to have a chance for championship honors in such company must of necessity be, and New York and Philadelphia were elected to fill the vacancies. At the same time A. G. Mills was elected to fill the vacancy in the League Presidency caused by the death of Mr. Hulbert.

The League Circuit in 1883 again consisted of eight cities, while the number of games necessary to constitute a series had been increased from twelve to fourteen. The only change in the personnel of the Chicagos was the substitution of Fred Pfeffer for Joe Quest at second base. The fight between Chicago and Boston, Providence and Cleveland was veritably a battle of the giants, and as a result excitement throughout the country ran high and big crowds everywhere were the rule.

The Boston team, with M. Hines and Hackett as catchers, Buffington and Whitney, pitchers; Morrill, first base; Burdock, second base; Sutton, third base; Wise, shortstop; Horning, left field; Smith, center field; Radford, right field; and Brown, substitute, proved to be a trifle the strongest, they carrying off the pennant with a total of 63 games won and 35 lost, while Chicago came next on the list with 59 games won and 39 lost. Providence, which stood third, won 58 games and lost 40, while Cleveland, which came fourth, had 55 games won and 42 games lost to its credit.

Buffalo, New York, Detroit and Philadelphia followed in the order named.

Brouthers of the Buffalo team again stood first on the list of batsmen with a percentage of .371, while your humble servant had fallen down to the twelfth place on the list, my percentage being .307.

The event of the season, or of the year perhaps, I should say, was the adoption of a document then known as the tripartite agreement, now known as the National Agreement, which was formulated by A. G. Mills, John B. Day and A. H. Soden, representing the League; O. P. Caylor, William Barnier and Lewis Simmons, representing the American Association, and Elias Mather of the Grand Rapids, Michigan, Club, acting for the Northwestern League.

This document, among other things, provided that no contract should be made for the services of any player for a longer period than seven months, beginning April 1st and terminating October 31st, and that no contract for their services should be made prior to October 20th of the year on which such services terminated.

It also provided that on the 10th day of October of each year the Secretary of each Association should transmit to the Secretary of each other Association a reserve list of players, not exceeding fourteen in number, then under contract with each of its several club members, and of such players reserved on any prior annual reserve list, who had refused to contract with said club's members, and of all other eligible players, and such players, together with all other thereafter to be regularly contracted with by such club members, are and shall be eligible to contract with any other club members of either association party hereto.

The object of this was to prevent what was then at that time a growing evil, the stealing of players by one club from another, and that it was successful in that respect there can be no denying.

The reserve clause was not popular with many of the players, however, and it was this that later on led to the Brotherhood revolt and a general shaking up in base-ball circles.

Such had been the boom in base-ball in 1883, and so promising did the outlook seem from a monetary standpoint for a similar boom in 1884 that Henry V. Lucas, of St. Louis, evidently believing that there was millions in it, organized and took hold of the short-lived Union Association, the failure of which wrecked him in both purse and spirit.

This Association was organized at Pittsburg in September, 1883, and was launched with a great flourish of trumpets, the cities agreed upon for the circuit being Washington, St. Louis, Altoona, Pa., Boston, Baltimore, Cincinnati, Philadelphia and Chicago.

Of the fifty League players, who, it had been given out, would break their contracts and join them, not a baker's dozen showed up when the time came. Only five of the original clubs played out their schedules, these being the St. Louis, Cincinnati, Boston, Baltimore and Nationals of Washington, they finishing in the order named, Boston and Baltimore being tied for the third place.

The Union Association season opened on April 17th. Within six weeks of that time the Altoona Club gave up the fight, being succeeded by Kansas City. The Keystone Club of Philadelphia lasted until August, and was then succeeded by the Wilmington, Del., Club, which had been persuaded to desert the Eastern League by Mr. Lucas. In September they, too, passed it up and Milwaukee took the vacant place, they lasting but a short time.

The Chicago Union Association Club, a weak sister at the best, played along to almost empty benches until August, when it gave up the fight and transferred its team to Pittsburg, but that city refused to support it and it finally gave up the ghost about the middle of September.

In the meantime the League, which had expelled the deserting players, was having a most exciting and prosperous season, though the majority of clubs had signed many more players than they had any use for, the object being to keep them away from the Union Association. For the Chicago Club that season no less than nineteen players were signed, some of whom were seldom called upon to play.

The regulars, that is, the men who were depended upon to do the playing, were Corcoran, Goldsmith and Clarkson, pitchers; Flint and Kelly, catchers; Anson, first base; Pfeffer, second base; Williamson, third base; Burns, shortstop; Dalrymple, Gore, Kelly and Sunday in the outfield.

In some way or other we got started off with the wrong foot first, as the horsemen would, say, and the end of May found us in the fifth place, Boston and Providence being the leaders, and at the end of June we had not improved our position.

From that time on the Providence Club played great ball, the wonderful endurance of Pitcher Radbourne being one of the features of the season, and though we rallied in September and October, winning every game that we played in the last-named month, the best that we could do was to beat New York for the fourth place, each club winning 62 games and losing 50.

The championship record showed 84 games won and 28 lost for the Providence Club, 73 games won and 38 lost for Boston, and 64 games won and 47 lost for Buffalo, while Philadelphia, Cleveland and Detroit brought up the rear.

In the matter of averages James O'Rourke again led the list, with a percentage of .350 to his credit.

The position that the club occupied at the close of that season was not satisfactory to me, as I felt that it should have been better, but there was no use crying over spilt milk, the only thing to do being to try it again.

At the close of the season Corcoran, whose pitching days were about over, was released, as was also Goldsmith, whose work had not been of the first class, and Clarkson and McCormick, the latter having played with the Cleveland team the year before, were relied upon to puzzle the opposing batsmen, the other members of the team being Flint, Kelly, Anson, Pfeffer, Williamson, Burns, Dalrymple, Gore and Sunday. O. P. Beard, C. Marr, E. E. Sutcliffe and Joe Brown were all given a trial, but released early in the season.

The St. Louis Club, of which Mr. Lucas was the President, was taken in in order to fill the vacancy caused by the withdrawal of Cleveland, and this act on the part of the League so incensed President Mills that he resigned, the three offices of President, Secretary and Treasurer being combined in Nicholas E. Young, who is still at the head of the League affairs, with headquarters at the National Capital.