There is a beautiful beach drive that extends from the military barracks along the shores of the ocean for miles, and this is the fashionable drive of all Colombo, though it was all but deserted in the early morning hours. The Buddhist temples, and there were several of them in Colombo, we were obliged to inspect from the outside, no admittance to European visitors being the rule, but the strange gods that peered down at us from the walls gave us a very good idea of what might be found inside and served, at least, to take the edge off of our curiosity.

An invitation having been tendered us that morning at the office of the U. S. Consul to visit the corvette "Essex," Captain Jewell commanding, then lying in the harbor, we repaired at one o'clock to the wharf, where gigs, manned by the ship's crew, awaited us and we were soon on board, where we were entertained by officers and crew in a handsome manner. The rendering of "America" by Mrs. Leigh Lynch on the cornet brought out an enthusiastic round of applause, while Clarence Duval captured the hearts of the seamen by doing for them a plantation breakdown in his best style. Captain Jewell kindly sent us aboard the "Salier" in the ship's gigs, which waited for us until we had donned our uniforms, and then took us to the shore.

The procession out to the Colombo Cricket Grounds, where the game was played, was indeed a novelty, and the crowds of Cingalese that surrounded us as we left the hotel and looked on in open-eyed wonder were by no means the least impressive part of the circus. There were no drags and carriages on this occasion and no gaily-caparisoned horses with nodding plumes, but in their places were heavy-wheeled carts drawn by humpbacked little bullocks and jinrickshas drawn by bare-legged Cingalese. About these swarmed the natives in their rainbow attire, the whole scene being one of the kaleidoscope kind.

At the grounds 4,500 people had assembled, the officers and crew of the "Essex" being on hand as well as a crowd of English residents and native Cingalese. We played but five innings, the result being a tie, three runs for each team, a good game under the best of circumstances, and one that apparently pleased everybody, the natives going wild over the batting and making desperate efforts to get out of the way whenever a ball happened to do in their direction. The journey back to the hotel was another circus parade, and one that Barnum, with all his efforts, never was able to equal. From the hotel we went directly to the wharf, where the steam-launch was in waiting, and with a cheer from the crew of the "Essex" in our ears we started for the steamer. As the "Salier" started again on her voyage we climbed into the rigging and lined up along the rail, cheering the crew of the "Essex" until the white forms of the men that lined her rigging were lost to sight.

The voyage from Ceylon to Egypt over the Arabian sea and the Gulf of Aden was a most enjoyable one, both sea and sky being deeply, darkly and beautifully blue, with not so much as a cloud or a ripple to mar the beauty of either, and so beautiful were the nights that it was a rare thing for any member of the party to retire until long after the ship's bells had proclaimed the hour of midnight.

The second morning after we had left the Island of Ceylon behind us we were all made the victims of a cruel practical joke, of which Lynch and Fogarty were the authors, and for which lynching would hardly have been a sufficient punishment. It was in the early hours of the morning and while we were still "dreaming the happy hours away," that the loud report of a cannon shook the steamer from stem to stern, this being followed by cries of:

"Pirates, pirates; my God, boys, the Chinese pirates are upon us!"

The report of another gun followed, and then a scene of confusion such as had never before been witnessed outside of a lunatic asylum. Tener, who was the treasurer of the party, grabbed his money-bags and locked himself in his stateroom. Ed Hanlon rushed into the cabin with his trousers in one hand and his valise in the other, and they say that I filled my mouth with Mrs. Anson's diamonds, grabbed a base-ball bat and stood guard at the doorway, ordering my wife to crawl under the bunk, but that statement is a libel and one that I have been waiting for years to deny. I only got up to see what a Chinese pirate looked like, that's all. It was a scared lot of ball players that assembled in the cabin that morning, however, and the cloud of smoke that came rolling down the stairway only tended to make matters worse. Finally we caught sight of Fogarty galloping around the saloon tables and yelling like a Comanche Indian. We began then to suspect that he was at the bottom of the trouble, and when he burst into roars of laughter we were certain of it. It afterwards developed that the "Salier's" guns had been simply firing a salute in honor of the birthday of the German Emperor, and that Fogarty and Lynch had taken advantage of the opportunity to raise the cry of pirates and scare as many of us nearly to death as possible. I would have been willing, myself, that morning to have been one of a party to help hang Fogarty at the yardarm, and some of the victims were so mad that they were not seen to smile for a week.

It was during this voyage, too, that Mark Baldwin, the big pitcher of the Chicagos, had an adventure with a big Indian monkey that the engineer of the steamer had purchased in Ceylon that might have proved serious. This monkey was a big, powerful brute, and as ugly-looking a specimen of his family as I ever set my eyes on. He was generally fastened by means of a strap around his waist and a rope some five or six feet long, in the engine-room, but one morning Mark, without the engineer's knowledge, unfastened him and took him on deck. The sight of the ocean and his strange surroundings frightened him badly, and after Mark pulled him about the deck a while he took him down stairs and treated him to beer and pretzels, then brought him back to the deck and gave him some more exercise. Becoming tired of the sport at last Mark took him back to the engine-room. The iron grating around the first cylinder enabled the monkey to get his head on a level with Mark's as he descended the stair and Mr. Monk flew at his throat with a shriek of rage. Mark luckily had his eye on the brute and protected his throat, but fell backwards with the animal on top of him, receiving a painful bite on the leg. The monkey then bounded over to his corner, where he glared at Mark, his grey whiskers standing out stiff with rage. After satisfying himself as to the extent of his injuries, the big pitcher again went for the monk, but the latter jumped from the grating to the piston-rod of the engine, and at every revolution of the screw he would go down into the hold and then come up again, shaking his fist at Mark at every ascent, and chattering like a magpie. This sight was so comical that the big pitcher roared with laughter, and though he laid for a chance to get even with Mr. Monk the rest the voyage the latter was never to be caught napping, and kept himself out of danger.

Into the waters of the Arabian Sea, blue as indigo, we steamed on the morning of February 1st, and soon after daybreak the next morning the volcanic group of islands off the African coast were in plain sight from the steamer's deck. Two hours later we passed the great headland of Guardafui, on the northeast corner of Africa, a sentinel of rock that guards the coast and that rises from the waves that are lashed to foam about its base in solitary grandeur. The following afternoon we came in sight of the Arabian coast, some forty miles distant, and later the great rocky bluffs that protect Aden from the gulf winds were plainly discernible. It was nearly supper time when we landed and we had but barely time for a glance through the shops and bazaars, when we were again compelled to board the steamer, which left at nine o'clock for Suez.

The next morning the sound of a gong beaten on the steamer's deck aroused us from our slumbers, and inquiring the wherefore we were informed that we were approaching the straits of Bal-el-Mandeb, the entrance to the Red Sea. This brought all of our party on deck to greet the sunrise, and as we passed between the rockbound coast of Arabia on the right and the Island of Perin on the left we could hear the roar of the breakers and discern the yellow and faint light of the beacons that were still burning on the shore. That morning at 10 o'clock we steamed by the white walls and gleaming towers of the City of Mocha, that lay far away on the Arabian coast, looking like some fairy city in the dim distance. The weather as we steamed along over the surface of the Red Sea was not as hot as we had expected to find it, and yet it was plenty warm enough for comfort, and it was with mingled feelings of sorrow and joy that we entered the harbor of Suez on the morning of February 7th and drew slowly toward the little city of the same name that lay at the end of the great canal, the building of which has tended to change the business of the continents. The huge bluffs of the Egyptian coast stood out in bold relief in the clear air of the morning, while from the shores opposite the sands of the great desert stretched away as far as the eye could reach. Among the larger vessels that lay in the harbor were an English troop-ship and an Italian man-of-war, and as we dropped anchor we were at once surrounded by a fleet of smaller craft. After bidding good-by to Captain Talenhorst and his officers, and seeing that our baggage was loaded on the lighters we were transferred to the decks of a little steamer that was to take us to the docks of Suez, some two miles distant. Hardly had we set our feet on the shores of Egypt before we were besieged by swarms of Arabian and Egyptian donkey-boys in loose-fitting robes, black, white and blue, driving before them troops of long-eared donkeys, with gaily-caparisoned and queer-looking saddles and bridles, and mounting to our seats as quickly as possible be trotted off to the railroad station, some four or five miles distant, and took our places in the train that was to bear us to Cairo. Suez, the little that we saw of it, impressed us as being about the dirtiest place on God's green footstool, and the few Europeans that are obliged to live there have my profound sympathy, and deserve it.

Through the village, with its dirty streets lined by huts of mud and past little villages of the same squalid character, the train sped. Then across the arid desert region that extends northward from Suez to Ismalia, running parallel with the canal for a distance of thirty-five miles, and leaving the desert we entered the rich valley of the Nile, where the vegetation was most luxuriant. Groves of palm and acacias dotted the fields and flocks of sheep and goats were to be seen along the roadways of the irrigating canals that appeared to overspread the valley like a net. Camels plodding along beneath their heavy burden and water buffalos standing knee-deep in the clover were not uncommon sights at every station, while the train was surrounded by motley crowds of Bedouins, Arabs and Egyptians, the women being veiled to the eyes, a fact for which we probably had reason to be devoutly grateful, if we but knew it, as there was nothing in their shapeless figures to indicate any hidden beauty.

Just as dusk we pulled into a little station some twenty miles from Cairo, and here Ryan started a panic among the natives by dressing Clarence Duval up in his drum-major suit of scarlet and gold lace, with a catcher's mask, over his face and a rope fastened around his waist, and turning him loose among the crowd that surrounded the carriages. To the minds of the unsophisticated natives the mascot appeared some gigantic ape that his keeper could with difficulty control, and both men and women fell over each other in their hurry to get out of his way. It was after dark when we arrived at Cairo where, as we alighted from the train, we were beset by an army of Egyptians, and we were obliged to literally fight our way to the carriages that were in waiting and that were to take us to the Hotel d'Orient, where rooms had already been secured for us, and where an excellent dinner was awaiting our arrival.



CHAPTER XXVII. IN THE SHADOW OF THE PYRAMIDS.

The Hotel d'Orient, while not as fashionable as Shepard's or the Grand New, was a most comfortable house and set one of the best tables of the many that we encountered on the trip. It faced a big circular open space from which half a score of thoroughfares diverged like the spokes of a wheel, and was accessible from all parts of the city. In the big public garden opposite one of the Khedive's bands was playing at the time of our arrival, and on every hand were to been the open doors of cafes, bazaars, gambling hells and places of amusement, while the jargon of many tongues that surrounded us made confusion worse confounded. We were too tired the first night of our arrival to attempt much in the sight-seeing line, and contented ourselves, with a quiet stroll about the streets radiating from the circle, and a peep into some of the bazaars and gambling houses, gambling, then, as I presume it is at the present time, being conducted on the wide-open plan, and roulette wheels being operated within full view of the crowded streets. There is nothing that is known to any other city in the world that cannot be found in Cairo, and there are representatives of every nation in the world to be found among its denizens. Seen in the gloom of the evening, its towers and minarets showing in the moonlight, its streets pervaded with the dull red glow of the lights that gleam in the adjacent bazaars and cabarets, and with its white-walled buildings towering in the darkness, Cairo looks like a scene from the Arabian Nights, but viewed by daylight the picture is not so entrancing, for the semi-darkness serves to hide from the eye of the traveler the squalor and filth that the sunlight reveals and that is part and parcel of all oriental cities and towns.

As no arrangements had been made for a game the day following our arrival, the members of our party were at liberty to suit themselves in the matter of amusement, and the majority of them overworked the patient little donkeys before nightfall. I am in a position to testify that I met many a little animal that afternoon bestrode by a long-legged ball player who looked better able to carry the donkey than the donkey did to carry him, but for all that both boys and donkeys seemed to be enjoying themselves. In company with Mrs. Anson and others of the party the day was spent in sight-seeing, we taking carriages and driving through the Turkish, Moorish, Algerian and Greek quarters of the town and over narrow streets paved with cobblestones and walled in by high buildings, with overhanging balconies, where the warm rays of the sun never penetrated. The rich tapestries and works of art to be found in all of these bazaars were the delight and the despair of the ladies, who would have needed all the wealth of India to have purchased one-half of the beautiful things that they so much admired. We then drove over the bridge that spans the Nile to the Khedive's gardens, the roadway being lined with magnificent equipages of all kinds, for this is the fashionable drive of Cairo and one of the sights of the place, the gorgeous liveries of the coachmen and outriders, the gaily-caparisoned and magnificent horses and the beautiful toilettes of the ladies all combined to make a picture that entranced the senses. One of the Khedive's palaces, and, by the way, he has half a dozen of them in Cairo, is situated at the far end of these gardens, which are finer than any of our parks at home, and their palaces being built in the Egyptian style of architecture, are a delight to the eye.

The day passed all too quickly, and when night came and we returned to the hotel, we had not seen half as much as we wished.

That evening after dinner, wishing to see how Cairo looked by gaslight, Mrs. Anson and I drove out in search of a theater, which I naturally thought it would be no very difficult matter to find, though which of the many we wished to go to we had not made up our minds. The driver, unfortunately, could not understand a word of English, that being the trouble with half of the beggars one encounters in a strange land, and so as we drove down by the Grand Hotel and French Opera House and came to a palatial-looking building, with brilliantly lighted grounds and colored awnings extending down to the sidewalk, and looking the sort of a place that we were in search of, I stopped the carriage and tried to find out from the driver as best I could what sort of a theater it was. His answer sounded very much like circus, and I thought that it would just about fill the bill that evening, as far as Mrs. Anson and I were concerned. Helping my wife to alight we passed under the awning and by liveried servants that stood in the doorway, the music of many bands coming to our ears and the scent of a perfumed fountain whose spray we could see, to our nostrils.

"This is a pretty swell sort of a circus, isn't it?" I said to my wife, who nodded her head in reply.

Through the open door we could catch glimpses of large parties of ladies and gentlemen in full dress, but it had never occurred to me that it could be anything but what I had understood the driver to say it was, a circus, and I began to look around for a ticket office in order that I might purchase the necessary pasteboards. At last, running up against a dark-complexioned and distinguished-looking man in full uniform, I asked him if he could tell us where the tickets could be bought.

"Tickets! What tickets?" he asked, in very good English, but in a rather surprised tone.

"Why, the tickets to the circus here," I answered, nervously, for I began to fear that I had make a mistake. "There is no circus here, my friend," said the stranger, as he turned away his head to hide a smile, "this is my private residence. I am Commander-in-chief of the Egyptian Army, and am simply entertaining a few friends here tonight. I would be much pleased if you would remain and—"

"Don't say a word, sir," I replied, feeling cheaper than I had ever felt in my life, "it is my mistake and I hope you will excuse me," and bowing my self out as best I could we drove back to the hotel, where Mrs. Anson, who had been laughing at me all the way back, had of course to tell the story, the result being that I was guyed about my experience "at the circus" for some days and weeks after Cairo had become only a memory. That evening in the office of the hotel the following bulletin was posted:

"Base-ball at the Pyramids. The Chicago and All-America teams, comprising the Spalding base-ball party, will please report in the hotel office, in uniform, promptly at ten o'clock to-morrow morning. We shall leave the hotel at that hour, camels having been provided for the All-Americas and donkeys for the Chicago players, with carriages for the balance of the party. The Pyramids will be inspected, the Sphinx visited, and a game played upon the desert near by, beginning at 2 o'clock."

The next morning at half-past nine the court of the Hotel d'Orient held what it had never held before, and what in all probability it will never hold again, twenty of the best-known exponents of the National Game that America could boast of having congregated there in uniform and in readiness to play ball in the presence of the countless ages that look down from the summits of the Pyramids and the imprint of whose fingers is seen in the seamed and scarred face of the Sphinx. In front of the hotel lay a dozen long-necked camels, saddled and bridled, and contentedly chewing their cuds, while about them stood as many more of the patient little donkeys that became so familiar to so many of the visitors to the Streets of Cairo during the World's Fair days at Chicago. The dragoman in charge had provided all the donkeys necessary for the occasion, but other donkey boys managed to get mixed up in a general melee, and when the boys had mounted the wrong donkeys and went to get on the right ones a row followed that would have put a Donnybrook Fair melee to shame, the disappointed donkey boys biting and scratching their more fortunate competitors and the policemen laying about them with their bamboo staffs. At last we were all in the saddle, the All-America team being mounted on the camels and the Chicago boys on the donkeys and with the ball players leading the way and the carriages following we moved through the streets of Cairo, past the residence of the American Minister, where we cheered the old flag that floated over his quarters, thence over the bridge of the Nile and down through the Khedive's gardens, the "ships of the desert" lurching along with their loads like vessels in an ocean storm, and the donkeys requiring an amount of coaxing and persuasion that proved to be a severe tax upon the patience of their riders.

The road leading to the Pyramids was a beautiful one running beneath an avenue arched with acacias until it reached the lowlands of the river across which it winds until it arrives at the edge of the desert upon which these great monuments of the kings and queens dead and gone for centuries are built. Half way to our destination an interchange of camels and donkeys was made by the members of the two teams, an exchange that, so far as the Chicagos were concerned, was for the worse and not for the better. At two o'clock we arrived at our destination and partook of the lunch that had been prepared for us in the little brick cottage that stood at the foot of old Cheops. After lunch we found ourselves surrounded by a crowd of Bedouins and Arabs numbering some two hundred, who besought us to purchase musty coins and copper images that were said to have been found in the interior of the huge piles of stone that surrounded us, and more persistent beggars than they proved to be it has never been my misfortune to run against. After visiting the big Pyramids and the Sphinx, and having our pictures taken in connection with these wonders of the world, we passed down to the hard sands of the desert, where a diamond had been laid out, and where, in the presence of fully a thousand people, many tourists coming to Cairo having been attracted to the scene by the announcements made that we were to play there, we began the first and only game of ball that the sentinels of the desert ever looked down upon. This game was played under difficulties, as when the ball was thrown or batted into the crowd the Arabs would pounce upon it and examine it as though it were one of the greatest of curiosities, and it was only after a row that we could again get it in our possession.

On this occasion Tener and Baldwin both pitched for Chicagos before the five innings were over, and Healy and Crane for the All-Americas. Both sides were exceedingly anxious to win this game, but fortune favored the All-Americas and we were beaten 10 to 6, for which I apologized to the Sphinx on behalf of my team after the game was over. To this she turned a deaf ear and a stony glance was her only answer. After the game we returned to the Pyramids and the Sphinx, looking them over more at our leisure and trying to fathom the mystery of how they were built that has been a puzzle for so many ages.

It was seven o'clock in the evening when we returned to Cairo, well satisfied with our sight-seeing experience, but a little disappointed to think that the only ball game that had ever been played in the shadow of the Pyramids had not been placed to the credit of Chicago.

There was nothing to do the next day and night but to stroll about Cairo, as the Khedive, before whom we had offered to play, was out at his Nile palace, and to have visited him there and given an exhibition, as he invited us to do, would have taken more time than we had at our disposal. The Mosques of Sultan Hassan and of Mohammed Ali were visited by many of us during the day. They stood upon the highest point of the city, and though the former is fast crumbling to ruins, the latter, which is the place where the Khedive worships, is fairly well preserved. From the citadel, which is garrisoned by English soldiers, we obtained an excellent bird's-eye view of Cairo, the broad surface of the Nile and the Pyramids of Cairo and Sakarah, the latter of which are twenty miles distant.

I believe that had we remained in Cairo for a year we could still have found something to interest and amuse us, though I should hardly fancy having to remain there for a life-time, as the manners and customs of the Orient are not to my liking. The line of demarcation between the rich and the poor is too strongly drawn and the beggars much too numerous to suit my fancy, and yet while there both my wife and myself enjoyed ourselves most thoroughly, and the recollections that we now entertain of it are most pleasant.

Our departure from Cairo was made on the morning of February 11th. Ismalia, a little city on the banks of the Suez Canal, about half way between Suez and Port Said, being our destination, and here we arrived late in the afternoon, and at five o'clock boarded the little steamer that was to take us to Port Said, where we were to catch the steamer across the Mediterranean, to the little Italian town of Brindisi.



CHAPTER XXVIII. UNDER THE BLUE SKIES OF ITALY.

The night we left Ismalia and started for Port Said, the port of entrance at the northernmost end of the Suez Canal, was a glorious one, the full moon shining down upon the waters and turning to silver the sands of the vast desert that stretched away to the horizon on either side. This canal through which we had passed had a mean depth of 27 feet and varies from 250 to 350 feet in width, its length from sea to sea being 87 miles. The banks on both sides were barren of verdure and there was but little to be seen save the Canal itself, which is an enduring monument to the brains of Ferdinand de Lesseps. Every now and then our little steamer passed some leviathan of the deep bound for Suez, and the Red Sea, and the music of our mandolins and guitars and of Mrs. Lynch's cornet would bring the passengers on board of, them to the steamer's rail as we sped by them in the moonlight. Shortly after ten o'clock the lights of Port Said came in sight and at half-past ten we were climbing up the sides of the "Stettin," where we found a fine lot of officers and a good dinner awaiting our arrival.

An hour later we were on our way across the Mediterranean. The voyage was the roughest we had yet had, and as the majority of the party were so seasick as to be confined to their staterooms, there was very little pleasure to be found, the ship rolling about so that her screw was more than half the time out of the water. The mountains of Crete and Candia, with their snowy caps, were the only signs of land to be seen until we arrived in sight of Brindisi, which we reached twelve hours later than we should have done had it not been for the rough weather that we encountered. Here we received the first mail that we had had since we left home, and as there were letters from our daughters in the bag we were more than happy.

At Brindisi we were obliged to remain over night, having missed the day train for Naples, but the storm that that evening swept the coast confined us to the hotel, where the big wood fires that blazed in the grates, both in the office and in our sleeping apartments, made things most comfortable. At nine o'clock the next morning we left for Naples, where we arrived that evening, our journey taking us through the most beautiful and picturesque portion of Southern Italy, a country rich in vineyards, valleys, wooded mountains and beggars, being excelled in the latter respect only by the lands of the Orient.

The most of our baggage had already gone on the steamer to Southampton, and so when we got to the shores of the Bay of Naples we had but little for the Custom House Inspectors to inspect. I had my bat bag with me, however, and as I entered the station a funny-looking little old man in gold lace insisted that the bag was above the regulation weight and that I should register it and pay the extra fare. I kicked harder than I had ever kicked to any umpire at home in my life, but to no avail, for I was compelled to settle. As we came within sight of the Bay of Naples we were all on the lookout for Mount Vesuvius, which Fogarty was the first to sight, and to which he called our attention. Green and gray it loomed up in the distance, its summit surrounded by a crimson halo and its crater every few seconds belching out flames and lava. Arriving at the station we were met by Messrs. Spalding and Lynch, who had come on from Brindisi one train in advance of us, and here Martin Sullivan, who had playfully filched the horn of a guard while en route, was taken into custody by half a score of gendarmes. It took the services of three interpreters and some fifteen minutes of time to straighten this affair out, after which we proceeded to the Hotel Vesuve, where we were to put up during our stay in Naples. That night we were too tired for sightseeing and contented ourselves with gazing from the windows at the beautiful Bay of Naples, which lay flashing beneath us in the moonlight.

As no arrangements had been made to play a game until the fourth day after our arrival we had ample time for sightseeing, and this we turned to the best account. The view from the balconies of the hotel was in itself a grand one, and one of which we never tired. Vesuvius, with its smoke-crowned summit, was in plain sight, while the view of the bay and the beautiful islands of Capri and Ischia, that lay directly in front of the hotel, presented as pretty and enticing a picture as could be found anywhere. That afternoon we drove all about old Naples, visiting many of the quaint and handsome old cathedrals and palaces, and that night we went to hear "Lucretia Borgia," at the San Carlos, which is one of the most magnificent theaters to be found in all Europe. The next day we spent among the ruins of Pompeii and, though a third of the original city at the time of our visit still lay buried beneath the ashes and lava, we were enabled to obtain a pretty fair idea of what the whole city was like, and of the manners and customs of the unfortunate people who had been overwhelmed by the eruption. Many of the most interesting relics found are now in the National Museum at Naples, among them being the casts of bodies that were taken from the ashes. The museums and cathedrals at Naples are rich in relics and you might spend days in looking at them and still not see half of what is to be shown.

My wife and I were both anxious to make the ascent of Vesuvius, but the dangers incurred by some of the other members of the party who had attempted the feat deterred us from making the attempt.

Our first game of ball in Naples and the first of our trip on European soil was played in the Campo de Mart, or "Field of Mars," February 19th. We left the hotel in carriages and drove out by the way of the Via Roma to the grounds. The day before United States Consul Camphausen, who treated us all through our stay with the greatest kindness and courtesy, had issued invitations to the various members of the different diplomatic corps in Naples, and also to many of the principal citizens, so that there was a crowd of about 3,000 people on the grounds, and among them quite a sprinkling of foreign diplomats and fashionable people. The game began with Baldwin and Daly and Healy and Earl in the points, but it had hardly gotten under way before the crowd swarmed onto the playing grounds in such a way as to make fielding well-nigh impracticable, and batting dangerous. The police seemed powerless to restrain the people and the bad Italian of A. G. Spalding had, seemingly, no effect, in spite of the coaching given him by Minister Camphausen. Then we tried to clear the field ourselves, and, though we would succeed for a time, it would soon be as bad as ever, the fact that an Italian was laid out senseless by a ball from Carroll's bat not seeming to deter them in the least. For three innings neither side scored, and in the fourth each got a man across the plate, but in the fifth the All-Americas increased their score by seven runs, and the crowd, evidently thinking that the game was over, swarmed across the field like an army of Kansas grasshoppers, and Ward, ordering his men into their positions, claimed the game of Tener, who was umpiring, which the latter gave him by a technical score of 9 to 0, the score books showing 8 to 2. That night was our last in Naples, and by invitation of the American Minister we occupied boxes at the San Carlos Theater, which was packed from pit to dome by the wealth and fashion of Naples.

We were to have taken our departure for Rome at 8:30 the next morning, but owing to a mistake that was made by the commissionaire, to whom the getting of the tickets had been left, we were compelled to wait until the afternoon at three, Mr. Spalding and his mother going on without us. Leaving Clarence Duval to watch over the baggage piled up in a corner of the waiting-room we spent the time in driving about the city, and in paying a farewell visit to the Naples Museum, in which is contained some of the finest marbles, bronzes and paintings to be found on the continent, the Farnese Bull and the Farnese Hercules in marble being famous the world over. Three o'clock found us again at the depot and this time the tickets being on hand we boarded the train and were soon whirling along through the rural districts of Italy on our way to:

"Rome that sat upon her seven hills And ruled the world."

This trip was uneventful, and even the irrepressibles of the party managed to keep out of mischief, the experience of Martin Sullivan having taught them that the Italians did not know how to take a joke. At nine o'clock we reached the Eternal City, our party dividing at the station, the Chicagos going to the Hotel de Alamagne and the All-Americas to the Hotel de Capital, this action being necessary because of the fact that Rome was at that time crammed with tourists and accommodations for such a large party as ours were hard to find.

When Messrs. Spalding and Lynch called upon Judge Stallo of Cincinnati the next morning, he then being the American Minister at Rome, they were given the cold shoulder for the first time during the trip, that gentleman declaring that he had never taken the slightest interest in athletics, and that he did not propose to lend the use of his name for mercenary purposes. There being no inclosed grounds in Rome this action of Jude Stallo's was in the nature of a gratuitous insult, and was looked upon as such by the members of our party. Mr. Charles Dougherty, the Secretary of the American Legation at Rome, proved, however, to be an American of a different kind, and one that devoted to us much of his time and attention.

Who that has ever been to Rome can ever forget it? I cannot, and I look upon the time that I put in there sightseeing as most pleasantly and profitably spent. The stupendous church of St. Peter's, with its chapels and galleries, being in itself an imposing object lesson. Its glories have already been inadequately described by some of the most famous of literary men, and where they have failed it would be folly for a mere ball player to make the attempt. In St. Peter's we spent almost an entire day, and leaving it we felt that there was still more to be seen. The second day we visited the palace of the Caesars, the Catacombs, the ruins of the Forum, and the Coliseum, within whose tottering walls the mighty athletes of an olden day battled for mastery. We drove far out on the Appian Way, that had at one time echoed the tread of Rome's victorious legions, until we stopped at the tomb of St. Cecelia. The glories of ancient Rome have departed but the ruins of that glory still remain to challenge the wonder and admiration of the traveler. Rome is not composed entirely of massive ruins in these latter days, as some people seem to imagine. On the contrary, it is a city of wealth and magnificence, and if "you do as the Romans do" you are certain to enjoy yourself, for the Romans do about the same things as other people.

The Corso, which is the fashionable drive and promenade of the residents, had a great attraction for us all, and between three and five o'clock in the afternoons the scene presented was a brilliant one, it being at that time thronged with handsome equipages and handsomer women, while the shop windows are pictures in themselves. The street itself in a narrow one, being barely wide enough for two vehicles to pass each other, and yet over its pavements there is a constantly flowing tide of people such as Fifth Avenue in New York, State Street in Chicago, Rotten Row in London, or even the Champs Ely-see in Paris cannot equal.

On the afternoon of February 22d, in answer to an invitation extended to the party through President Spalding, by Dr. O'Connell, Director of the American College at Rome, we called at that institution, in a body and were soon chatting with the students, some seventy-five in number, who came from a score of different cities in our own country.

They were a fine, manly lot, and just as fond of baseball, which they informed us that they often played, as though they were not studying for the priesthood. Meeting them reminded me of my old school days at Notre Dame, and of the many games that I had taken part in while there when the old gentleman was still busily engaged in trying to make something out of me, and I was just as busily engaged in blocking his little game. After a pleasant chat Clarence Duval gave them an exhibition of dancing and baton swinging that amused them greatly, and then we adjourned to one of the class-rooms, where we listened to brief addresses by Bishop McQuade of Rochester, N. Y., who was then in Rome on a visit; Bishop Payne of Virginia, and Dr. O'Connell, to all of which A. G. responded, after which we took our departure, but not before the students had all promised to witness the game of the next day.

This game was played on the private grounds of the Prince Borghese, which are thrown open to the public between the hours of three and five on Tuesday, Saturday and Sunday of each week, and a prettier place for a diamond that the portion of it upon which we played, and which was known as the Piazza de Sienna, could not be imagined. Under the great trees that crowned the grassy terraces about the glade that afternoon assembled a crowd such as few ball players had ever played before, among the notables present being King Humbert of Italy, the Prince of Naples, Prince Borghese and family, Count Ferran, Princess Castel del Fino, Count Gionatti, Senora Crispi, wife of the Prime Minister, and her daughter, Charles Dougherty and ladies, the class of the American College at Rome, members of the various diplomatic corps, tourists and others.

We were greeted by three rousing cheers and a tiger from the American College boys and then, after fifteen minutes of fast practice, we began the first professional ball game ever played in Rome, a game that both teams were most anxious to win. Crane and Earle and Tener and Daly were in the points. The game was a remarkable one throughout, the fielding on both sides being gilt-edged, and the score a tie at the end of the second inning, each side having two runs. Double plays, clean hitting and sharp fielding marked the next few innings, and it was not until the seventh inning Burns crossed the plate with the winning run for the Chicagos, the score standing 3 to 2. After this we played an exhibition game of two innings, that was marked by fast work throughout, and were heartily cheered as we lifted our caps and left the grounds.

Shortly after the noon hour the next day, which was Sunday, we started for Florence, the day being a cold and cheerless one, arriving there at 8:30 and finding quarters at the Hotel de Europe, not a stone's throw from the right bank of the Arno. It was too chilly for any gas-light trips that evening, and we retired early, but the next morning after an early breakfast we started in to make the most of the little time that we had at our disposal, and before the time set for play that afternoon we had taken flying peeps at the beautiful Cathedral of St. Maria, the home and studio of Michael Angelo, the palace of the Medicis and the Pitti and Uffizi galleries, both of which are rich in paintings, the works of the great masters.

We played that afternoon upon the Cascine or racecourse of Florence, in the midst of beautiful surroundings and in the presence of a crowd that was small but select, royalty having several representatives on the grounds. The game was a hotly-contested one throughout, Healy and Carroll and Baldwin and myself being the batteries, and was finally won by the All-Americas, the score standing at 7 to 4 in their favor.

It was five o'clock and raining when we left Florence the next morning. We had landed in Italy in a rain storm and we left the land of sunshine and soft skies under the same unpleasant conditions.



CHAPTER XXIX. OUR VISIT TO LA BELLE FRANCE.

It was some days after we left the beautiful city of Florence, with its wealth of statuary and paintings, before we again donned our uniforms, the lack of grounds upon which we could play being the reason for our enforced idleness. The day we left Florence we crossed over the border and that night found us on French soil, and in the land of the "parlevooers." The ride from Florence to Nice, which latter city was our objective point, was one long dream of delight, the road running for nearly the entire distance along the shores of the Mediterranean and along the edge of high cliffs, at whose rocky bases waves were breaking into spray that, catching the gleam of the sunlight, reflected all the colors of the rainbow. Now and then the train plunged into the darkness of a tunnel, where all was blackness, but as it emerged again the sunlight became all the brighter by comparison. As we passed through Pisa, a few hours out from Florence, we caught excellent view of the famous leaning tower, with the appearance of which every schoolboy has been made familiar by the pictures in his geography. At Genoa the train stopped for luncheon and there Pfeffer's appetite proved to be too much for him, and as he couldn't speak Italian he lingered so long at the table as to get left, coming on in the next train a few hours afterwards, and getting guyed unmercifully regarding his tremendous capacity for storing away food.

In the course of the afternoon we passed through the the city of Diana Maria, that four years before had been destroyed by an earthquake, in which some four hundred people were killed or severely injured. It was a desolate enough looking place as viewed from the car windows, the broken walls that seemed ready to tumble at the slightest touch, and the bare rafters all bearing witness to the terrible shaking up that the city had received. Leaving Diana Maria we passed through some beautiful mountain scenery, the little villages that clustered in the valleys looking from our point of view like a collection of birdhouses. It was nearly dark when we reached San Remo, where the late Emperor of Germany had lain during his last illness, and quite so when we left it and entered the station of Vingt Mille, on the French border, and some twenty miles from our destination.

Here Crane's monkey was the cause of our getting into trouble, a couple of Italians, who had taken offense at the free-and-easy ways of Fogarty, Crane and Carroll, who occupied the same apartment with them, informing the guard that the New-Yorker had the little animal in his pocket, the fare for which was immediately demanded and refused.

At Vingt Mille, after the customs authorities had examined our baggage, and we were about to take the train again, we were stopped and informed that we would not be allowed to proceed until the monkey's fare had been paid. It was some time before we ascertained the real cause of our detention, none of us being able to speak Italian, and when we finally learned the train had gone on without us. Seventeen francs were paid for the monk's ride in Crane's pocket, and we thought the episode settled, but later on the official came back, stating that a mistake had been made and that the monk's fare was nine francs more, but this Crane positively refused to pay until we were again surrounded by a cordon of soldiers, when he "anted up," but most unwillingly. It was an imposition, doubtless, but they had the might on their side and that settled the business. After that the gentleman (?) who had acted as interpreter, doubtless thinking that Americans were "soft marks," put in a claim of twenty francs for services, but this he did not get, though he came very close to receiving the toe of a boot in its stead.

After once more getting started we sped past the gambling palaces of Monte Carlo and Monaco, that loomed up close behind us in the darkness, and, arriving at Nice, finally secured quarters in the Interlachen Hotel, the city being crowded with strangers who had come from all parts of the world to view the "Battle of Flowers," that was to take place on the morrow. It rained all that night and all the next day, and as a result the carnival had to be postponed, and the floral decorations presented a somewhat woe-begone and bedraggled appearance. It had been our intention to play a game here, but to our astonishment and the disappointment of several hundred Americans then in Nice, the project had to be abandoned for the reason that there was not a ground or anything that even remotely resembled one, within the city limits.

The rain that had caused the postponement of the carnival did not prevent us from leaving the hotel, however, and the entire party put in the day visiting the great gambling halls of Monte Carlo, which are today as famous on this side of the water as they are on the continent, and where the passion for gambling has ruined more people of both sexes than all of the other gambling hells of the world combined. A more beautiful spot than Monte Carlo it would be hard to imagine, the interior of the great gambling hall being handsomer than that of any theater or opera house that we had seen, and furnished in the most gorgeous manner. The work of the landscape gardener can here be seen at its best, no expense having been spared to make the grounds that surrounded the building devoted to games of chance the handsomest in the world. In its great halls one sees every sort and variety of people. Lords and Ladies, Princes and Princesses, Dukes and Duchesses, gamblers and courtesans, all find place at the table where the monotonous voices of the croupiers and the clinking of the little ivory ball are about the only sounds that break the silence.

The majority of the members of our party tried their luck at the tables, as does everybody that goes to Monte Carlo, no matter how strongly they may condemn the practice when at home, and some of us were lucky enough to carry off some of the bank's money, Mr. Spalding, Mrs. Anson and myself among the number. There is as much of a fascination in watching the faces of the players around the tables as there is in following the chances of the game, and the regular habitues of the place can be spotted almost at the first glance. One day at Monte Carlo was quite enough for us and we were glad to get back to Nice and out of the way of temptation.

The second day after we arrived at Nice the flower festival took place, and luckily the weather was almost perfect. All the morning for a distance of some twenty blocks the Avenue des Anglaise, where the battle of flowers is annually held, the decorators had been busy preparing for the event, and by afternoon decked in flowers and gaily-colored ribbons, bunting and flags, the scene that it presented was a brilliant one. By three o'clock it was crowded with elegant equipages filled with men, women and flowers, the two former pelting each other with blossoms to their heart's content, the spectators in the adjacent windows and on the sidewalks taking part in the mimic war. Conspicuous in the party was the Prince of Wales and his friends, among which were several of our fair countrywomen, the whole party distributing their flowers right and left with reckless-prodigality. The number of handsome women, the splendid street decorations, and the abundance of flowers that were scattered about in lavish profusion made a brilliant picture and one that it is not to be wondered that tourists journey from all parts of the continent to witness.

The next morning we were off for Paris, stopping over at Lyons for the night, where there was snow on the ground, the weather being cold and disagreeable, and it was not until Saturday that we arrived in "La Belle Paris," the Mecca of all Americans who have money to spend and who desire to spend it, and the fame of whose magnificent boulevards, parks, palaces, squares and monuments has not extended half as far as has the fame of its Latin Quartier, with its gay student life, its masked balls, with their wild abandon, its theaters made famous by the great Rachael, Sara Bernhardt and others, and its gardens, where high kickers are in their glory. All of these were to be seen and all of these we saw, that is, all of them that we could see in the short week that was allotted to us, it being a week of late hours and wild dissipation so far as my wife and myself were concerned, we rarely retiring until long after the hour of midnight. Our days were spent in driving about the city and its environs, and in viewing the various places of interest that were to be seen, from the magnificent galleries filled with the rarest of paintings and statuary to the dark and gloomy Bastille, while our nights were devoted to the theater and balls, and at both of these we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly.

In Paris we met a great many members of the American colony from whom we received much courtesy and attention, and to whom I should like to have a chance of returning the many kindnesses that were showered upon us during the time that we remained in the French capital.

As a business man the Parisian is not a decided success when viewed from the American standpoint, but as a butterfly in pursuit of pleasure he cannot be beaten. He is polite and courteous at all times, however, but is not to be trusted when making a trade, he having learned to look upon all Americans with money as his natural and legitimate prey, and so is prepared to take the advantage of you and yours whenever the opportunity is given him.

It was not until the afternoon of March 8th that we were given a chance to show the Parisians how the National Game of America is played, and then we put up a fairly good exhibition, both teams being more than anxious to win, and playing in a most spirited fashion. This game was played at the Parc Aristotique, situated on the banks of the Seine, just opposite the Exposition Buildings, and within plain sight of the great Eiffel Tower, it being walled in by gardens and big city residences. The game was made memorable by the large number of Americans that were present and by the distinguished people before whom it was played. Among these were General Brugere and Captain Chamin, representing President Carnot of the French Republic, who sent a letter regretting that his official duties prevented him from seeing the game; Mr. and Mrs. William Joy, of the American Legation; Miss McLane, daughter of the American Minister at Paris; Miss Urquhart, a sister of Mrs. James Brown Potter, the actress; Consul General Rathbone, and a host of others prominent in diplomatic, social and theatrical circles. It was in the second inning of the game that the famous "stone wall" infield of the Chicagos was broken up through an injury received by Ed Williamson, from the effects of which he never fully recovered. He had taken his base on balls in the second inning and, was trying to steal second when he tripped and fell, tearing his knee cap on the sharp sand and gravel of which the playing surface was composed. He was taken by his wife, who was among the spectators, to his hotel, and it was thought that a few days of rest would see him all right again, but such did not prove to be the case, as he was still confined to his room in London when we sailed for home, and it was until late in the season of 1889 that he was again able to report for duty. This necessitated Baldwin's going to first while Ryan took Williamson's place at short and weakened our team very materially, as Williamson was always a tower of strength to us. We were very decidedly off, too, in our batting, and it was not until the sixth inning that a home run by Ryan and a two-bagger by Pettit, and a passed ball enabled us to put two men over the plate. These were all the runs we got, however, and at the end of the second inning, when game was called, the score stood at 6 to 2 in All-Americas' favor.

How the members of either game were enabled to play as good ball as they did, not only in Paris but in other cities that we visited after the inactivity of steamer life, the late hours, and the continual round of high living that they indulged in, is a mystery, and one that is past my fathoming, and yet the ball that they put up on many of these occasions that I have spoken of was ball of the championship kind and the sort that would have won even in, League company.

At half-past eight o'clock we left Paris for our trip across the English Channel, taking the long route from Dieppe to New Haven, and if we all wished ourselves dead and buried a hundred times before reaching the latter Port we can hardly be blamed, as a worse night for making the trip could not well have been chosen. It was one o'clock in the morning when the train from Paris bearing the members of our party arrived at Dieppe, and the wind at that time was blowing a gale. Down the dock in the face of this we marched and aboard the little side-wheel steamer "Normande," where our quarters were much too cramped for comfort. A few minutes later the lines were cast off and the steamer was tossing about like a cork on the face of the waters, now up and now down, and seemingly trying at times to turn a somersault, a feat that luckily for us she did not succeed in accomplishing, else this story might never have been written. There was no doing on deck, even had we been capable of making an effort to do so, which we were not, as we could hear the large waves that swept over the vessel strike the planking with a heavy thud that shook the steamer from stem to stern, and then go rushing away into the scuppers.

Up and down, down and up, all night long, and if we had never prayed to be set ashore before we did on that occasion, but as helpless as logs we lay in our staterooms, not much caring whether the next plunge made by the ship was to be the last or not. I had had slight attacks of seasickness before, but on this occasion I was good and seasick, and Mrs. Anson was, if such a thing were possible, even in a worse condition than I was. At about three in the morning we heard the noise of a heavy shock followed by the crashing of timbers and the shouts of sailors that sounded but faintly above the roar of the tempest, and the next morning discovered that a huge wave had carried away the bridge, the lookout fortunately managing to escape being carried away with the wreck. The experience of that awful night is one never to be forgotten, a night that, according to the captain, was the worst that he had ever witnessed during his thirty years of experience, and it was with feelings of great relief that we dropped anchor in the harbor of New Haven the next morning, where the sun shone brightly and the sea was comparatively quiet.

We were a pretty seedy-looking lot when we boarded the train for London, where we debarked at the Victoria Station about half-past nine o'clock, still looking much the worse for wear and like a collection of invalids than a party of representative ball players. Getting into carriages we were at once driven through the city to Holburn, where quarters at the First Avenue Hotel had been provided, and where we were only too glad to rest for a time and recover from the awful shaking up that the English Channel had given us; a shaking up that it took Mrs. Anson some time to recover from, as it also did the other ladies of the party.

We had expected to play our first game of ball in England on the day of our arrival, but the game had been called off before we got there because of the storm, the grounds being flooded. It was a lucky thing for us that such was the case, as there was not one of the party who could have hit a balloon after the experience of the night before, or who could have gone around the bases at a gait that would have been any faster than a walk.



CHAPTER XXX. THROUGH ENGLAND, SCOTLAND AND IRELAND.

The first thing that impresses the stranger in London is the immensity of the city, and the great crowds that continually throng the streets night and day, for London never sleeps.

The first day after our arrival I noted numerous changes that had taken place in various quarters since my visit of fifteen years before, during which time the city seemed to have grown and spread out in every direction. The hotel where we were quartered was in close proximity to the Strand, one of London's greatest and busiest thoroughfares, and here the crowds were at all times of the most enormous proportions, the absence of street car and the presence of hundreds of hansom cabs and big double-decked tramways running in every direction being especially noticeable. The weather at the time of our visit was cold, foggy and disagreeable, and as a result our sight-seeing experiences were somewhat curtailed and not as pleasant as they might have been.

The date of our first appearance on English soil was March 12th, and prior to the game on that occasion we were given a reception and luncheon in the Club House of the Surrey County Cricket Club at Kensington Oval, which is the personal property of the Prince of Wales, and one of the most popular of the many cricket grounds the are to be found within the vicinity of the world's greatest metropolis. The committee appointed to receive the players on this occasion embraced among others the Duke of Beaufort, Earl of Landsborough, Earl of Coventry, Earl of Sheffield, Earl of Chesborough, Lord Oxenbridge, Lord Littleton, Lord Hawke, Sir Reginald Hanson, Bart., Sir W. T. Webster, Attorney General, the Lord Mayor, American Consul General, American Charge d'Affaires, and Dr. W. D. Grace, the world-famous cricket player, with whom I had become well acquainted during the trip of 1874. It had rained that morning and when we left the hotel in drags for the grounds the streets of London were enveloped in a fog so thick that one could almost cut it with a knife, while the prospects of a ball game seemed to the most of us exceedingly dubious. Arriving at the Club House we were presented to the different members of the reception committee, who, in spite of the high-sounding titles that they bore, were a most affable lot of men, and to many of the most prominent club members, all of whom gave us a warm welcome and made us feel thoroughly at home. Lord Oxenbridge, a fine specimen of the English nobility, acted as chairman of the assemblage, and after luncheon proposed the toasts of "The Queen" and "The President of the United States," both of which were drank with enthusiasm. Lord Lewisham then proposed "The American Ball Teams," to which Mr. Spalding responded, this being followed by the health of the chairman, proposed by the Hon. Henry White, United States Charge d'Affaires, after which we made our way through the crowds that thronged the reception rooms and corridors to the dressing rooms, where we donned our uniforms and put ourselves in readiness to play ball. When we marched out on the grounds we were somewhat surprised at the size of the crowd that greeted us, some 8,000 people having assembled to witness the game, and this in spite of the fact that it was still foggy and the grounds soft, black and sticky. To play good ball under such circumstances was all but impossible, and yet I have taken part in lots of championship games at home that were worse played than this one.

Healy and Baldwin did the twirling, and both pitched good ball, while the fielding of both teams was nothing short of remarkable when the fact is taken into consideration that a ball fifty feet in the air could not be seen at all. Just at the end of the first half of the third inning we noticed something of a commotion in the vicinity of the Club House and when, in a few moments afterwards, the well-known face of the Prince of Wales appeared at the window, we assembled at the home plate and gave three hearty cheers for His Highness, this action on our parts bringing out a storm, of applause from the stand. At the close of the fifth inning we accompanied Manager Lynch to the Club House at the Prince's request, where we were introduced to the future King of England by President Spalding, he shaking hands with each of us in a most cordial manner, calling many of us by name and chatting with us in a most off-hand and friendly way. As we left he bowed to each of us pleasantly and then took a seat by the window to witness the balance of the game, which resulted at the end of nine innings in a score of 7 to 4 in Chicago's favor. The London papers the next morning devoted a great deal of space to the game, but the majority of the Englishmen who had witnessed it said that they thought cricket its superior, and among them the Prince of Wales, which was hardly to be wondered at, and which confirmed me in the opinion that I had formed on my first visit, viz., that base-ball would never become a popular English sport, an opinion that since then has proved to be correct.

Accompanied by the United States Charge d'Affaires the next morning we drove to the Parliament Buildings, where we were admitted and shown through by the Secretary to the Chairman of the House of Commons, an honor rarely accorded to visitors and one that we greatly appreciated.

From the great hall where Charles the First and Warren Hastings were tried and which had been badly wrecked by the explosion of a dynamite bomb two years before, we passed into the Crypt and Committee rooms, and thence through the magnificent corridors decorated with paintings, each of which cost thousands of pounds. The House of Lords was next visited, the Woolsack and Queen's Seat, and the seats of the various members being pointed out to us by the Secretary. From the House of Lords we passed into the House of Commons, where Sir William Harcourt was speaking upon "The Treatment of Political Prisoners in Ireland," and where several famous personages were pointed out to us, though much to our regret we missed seeing Mr. Gladstone, who was expected to enter every moment, but who did not appear up to the time of our leaving for Westminster Abbey, where we had just time to glance about us before driving to Lord's Cricket Grounds, where we were to play that afternoon, and where we were greeted by a crowd of 7,000 people. These grounds, which are particularly fine, we found that afternoon in excellent condition and as a result we played a great game and one that evidently pleased the spectators, the batting being heavy, the fielding sharp and quick and the base running fast and brilliant. Errors at the' last moment by Baldwin and myself gave the All-Americas this game, they winning by a single run, the score standing 7 to 6.

That evening, at the invitation of Henry Irving, now Sir Henry, and Miss Ellen Terry, we occupied boxes at the Lyceum Theater, being invited back of the scenes between the acts to enjoy a glass of wine and to receive the well wishes of our host and hostess, who still stand at the head of their profession.

The day following, which was March 14th, we played upon the Crystal Palace Grounds, which are located at Sydenham, one of the most popular residence districts of the great city and within plain sight of the magnificent Palace of Crystal, that is one of the many famous places of interest with which London abounds. Here another large and enthusiastic crowd of 6,000 people greeted us, and there was more cheering and excitement than we had yet heard since our arrival in England. It was another pretty and close game, in which the All-Americas carried off the honors by a score of 5 to 2, the batting, fielding and base running of both teams being again above the average.

At seven o'clock the next morning we left London for Bristol, the home of the famous cricketers, Dr. W. G. and Mr. E. M. Grace, whose exploits in the batting line have made them celebrated in the annals of the English National Game. Our journey to Bristol was a delightful one and when we arrived there at noon we were met by a committee composed of the Duke of Beaufort, Dr. Grace and the officials of the Gloucester County Cricket Club, and driven to the Grand Hotel, where introductions were in order. The Duke of Beaufort was certainly:

"A fine old English gentleman,"

and one who, in spite of his sixty years, was greatly interested in athletic sports. After a good dinner, over which His Grace presided and, after the usual toasts had been proposed and drank, we were driven to the Gloucester Cricket Grounds, which had but just been completed, at a cost of some twelve thousand pounds, and which were as pretty and well-equipped as any grounds in England. The day was a beautiful one and the grounds in splendid condition, but for all that the game lacked the snap and go that had characterized the games in London, the Chicagos winning by a score of 10 to 3. After the game the Chicago team took the field and Ryan and Crane pitched while the Grace brothers and other cricketers tried their hand at batting, but were unable to do anything with the swift delivery of the Americans, and it was not until they had slowed down that they managed to land on the ball, Dr. Grace making the only safe hit of the day.

That night found us back in London, where the next afternoon we played our farewell game in the great metropolis on the grounds of the Essex County Club at Layton, before a crowd that numbered 8,000 people, Crane and Earle and Baldwin and Daly being the batteries. This game was full of herd hitting and, though the score, 12 to 6 in favor of Chicago, would not have pleased an American crowd, it tickled the English people immensely, the London press of the next morning declaring it to be the best game that we had yet played in England. A throwing contest had been arranged to take place after the game between Crane and Conner, an Australian cricketer, but the latter backed out at the last moment and Crane merely gave an exhibition, throwing a cricket ball Ito yards and a base ball 120 yards and 5 inches. That evening we were banqueted by stockholders of the Niagara Panorama Company, and among the guests was the Duke of Beaufort, who "dropped in," as he put it, "to spend the evening with this fine lot of fellows from America."

When we left London the next morning it was in a special train provided by the London and Northwestern Railway Company, consisting of nine cars, two of which were dining saloons, two smoking and reception cars, and the balance sleepers, each of the latter being made to accommodate from six to eight persons comfortably. The exterior of the train was exceedingly handsome, the body-color being white enamel with trimmings of gold and seal brown and the Royal Arms in gold and scarlet on the carriage doors, while upon each side of the coaches was the inscription in brown letters, "The American Base-Ball Clubs." The interior of the train was equally as handsome, and even royalty itself could not been better provided. Some 500 people were on hand to see us off and we pulled out of London with the cheers of our friends ringing in our ears. The run to Birmingham occupied but three hours, and arriving there we were escorted to the Colonnade Hotel by a delegation from the Warwickshire County Cricket Club, where the usual reception was accorded us. Then, after going to the Queen's Hotel for luncheon, we were driven to the handsomely located and prettily equipped grounds of the club, where, in spite of the threatening weather, 3,000 people had assembled.

This game was one that would have delighted an American crowd, game being called at the end of the tenth inning on account of darkness with the score a tie, each team having four runs to its credit, Baldwin and Healy both pitching in fine style. That evening we were the guests of honor at the Prince of Wales Theater, returning after the play was over to our sleeping apartments on the train.

At nine o'clock the next morning we left for Sheffield, the great cutlery manufacturing town of England, our route leading through the beautiful hills of Yorkshire. Here we were the guests of the Yorkshire County Cricket Club, and after luncheon at the Royal Victoria were driven to the Bramhall Lane grounds, one of the oldest and most famous of England's many athletic parks, where we were greeted by a crowd that was even larger than' the one before which we had played at Birmingham. It was raining hard when we began play but we kept on for four innings, after which the rain came down so fast and the ground became so muddy that we were compelled to quit. We waited about for an hour in hopes that the rain might cease, but as it did not we finally went back to our quarters. At the invitation of Miss Kate Vaughan we spent the evening at the Royal Theater, where, as usual, we attracted fully as much attention as the play.

Snow was falling in great feathery flakes when we left Sheffield the next morning and, started for Bradford, and though we discovered an improvement in the weather when we reached our destination we found the grounds of the Bradford Foot-ball and Cricket Club in a condition that was utterly unfit for base-ball playing purposes. To make matters worse it began to rain while we were getting into our uniforms and a chilly wind swept across the enclosure. Four thousand people braved the inclement weather to see us play, however, and the members' stand presented a funny appearance crowded with ladies in waterproofs and mackintoshes, while the rows of black umbrellas that surrounded the field made it look like a forest of toadstools. It looked like sheer folly to attempt to play under such circumstances, but at the entreaties of the Cricket Club's Secretary, who said that a game of three innings would satisfy the crowd, we started in and we gave a good exhibition, too, but the state of our uniforms after it was over can be better imagined than described.

We arrived at Glasgow the next morning in time for breakfast, having been whirled across the borders of Scotland in the night, and when we awoke we found the train surrounded by a crowd of curious sightseers. After luncheon we started for the West of Scotland Cricket Club grounds, wearing overcoats over our uniforms, the air being decidedly chilly. It was fairly good playing weather after we once got warmed up, and the 3,000 spectators saw a good game, lasting seven innings, and also saw the All-Americas win by a score of 8 to 4. Mr. and Mrs. Osmond Tearle were that night playing "King Lear" at the Grand Theater, and entertained us very handsomely. On this trip thus far we had had but little opportunity for sight-seeing save the passing glimpses of scenery that we could obtain from the flying train and in the carriage rides to and from the grounds upon which we played.

The next morning found us in Manchester, we having left Glasgow at midnight, and at Manchester, the day being a pleasant one, we had some little opportunity of looking about. What we saw of the town impressed us most favorably, the streets being wide and clean, and the buildings being of a good character. The Old Trafford grounds on which we played that afternoon were beautifully situated and, in point of natural surroundings and equipments, held their own with the best in England. Through the gates 3,500 people passed, and they were treated to a rattling exhibition of "base-ball as she is played," the score being twice tied, and finally won by the All-Americas by a score of 7 to 6, Tener and Healy doing the twirling. That evening we were banqueted at the rooms of the Anglo-French Club by Mr. Raymond Eddy, who was then acting as the European representative of the Chicago house of John V, Farwell & Co., he being assisted in entertaining us by Major Hale, United States Consul at Manchester. This proved to be a most pleasant occasion, and the kindness shown us by both Mr. Eddy and Major Hale still remains a pleasant memory.

At seven o'clock the next morning we were at Liverpool, where I met many of the friends that I had made on my previous visit, and where we were to play our last game on English soil. We were driven to the Colice Athletic Grounds that afternoon in a coach with seats for twenty-eight persons, and arriving at the grounds we found a big crowd already inside and a perfect jam at the gates, the big carriage entrance finally giving way and letting in some five hundred or more people before the rush could be stopped by the police. As the paid admissions after the game showed an attendance of 6,500, it is fair to assume that there were at least 7,000 people on the grounds. Five innings of base-ball were played and the score was a tie, each team scoring but three, only one hit being made off Baldwin and four off Crane.

A game of "rounders" between a team from the Rounders' Association of Liverpool and an American eleven with Baldwin and Earl as the battery, and with Tener, Wood, Fogarty, Brown, Hanlon, Pfeffer, Manning, Sullivan and myself in the field was played. The bases in this game instead of being bags are iron stakes about three feet high, the ball the size of a tennis ball, and the batting is done with one hand and with a bat that resembles a butter-paddle in shape and size. A base-runner has to be retired by being struck with the ball, and not touched with it, and the batter must run the first time he strikes at the ball, whether he hits it or not. Of course the Rounders' Association team beat us, the score being 16 to 14, but when they came to play us two innings at our game afterwards the score stood at 18 to o in our favor, the crowd standing in a drenching rain to witness the fun.

At nine o'clock that night we took the train for Fleetwood, on the shores of the Irish Channel, and at eleven we were on board of the little steamer "Princess of Wales" and bound for Ireland. Unlike our experience in the English Channel, this trip proved to be most delightful and we arrived in Belfast in the pink of condition for anything that might turn up. It was Sunday morning and as we drove up to the Imperial Hotel on Royal Avenue the streets were as quiet as a country church yard. Towards evening, however, Royal Avenue began to take on a gala appearance, conspicuous among the promenaders being the Scotch Highland Troops, whose bright costumes lent color to the scene. About nine o'clock it began to rain again and it was still raining when we retired for the night. The next morning was full of sunshine and showers, but towards noon it cleared up and after luncheon we were off in drags for the North of Ireland Cricket Club Grounds, where we put up another great game and one where a crowd of 3,000 people, among which pretty Irish girls without number were to be seen, were the spectators. At the end of the eighth inning the score stood 8 to 7 in our favor, but in the ninth singles by Wood and Healy and a corking three-bagger to left field by Earle sent two men across the place and gave the victory to All-America by a score of 9 to 8. A banquet at the Club House that evening, over which the Mayor of Belfast presided, kept us out till a late hour, and at an early hour the next morning we were off for Dublin City,

"Where the boys are all so gay And the girls are all so pretty,"

according to the words of an old song. The porter who woke us up that morning must have been a relative of Mr. Dooley, of the Archer road, if one might judge from the rich brogue with which he announced the hour of "'Arf pawst foive, wud he be gittin' oop, sur? It's 'arf pawst foive."

Between Belfast and Dublin we passed through a beautiful section of the country, catching now and then among the trees glimpses of old ivy-grown castles and whirling by farms in a high state of cultivation. At Dublin, where we arrived at eleven o'clock, we were met by United States Consul McCaskill and others and driven to Morrison's Hotel. This was a day off and many of the boys who had relatives in Ireland within reaching distance took advantage of the fact to pay them a visit. Mrs. Anson and I spent the day in driving about the city visiting Phoenix Park and other places of interest, and that evening we attended the "Gaiety Theater," where a laughable comedy called "Arabian Nights" was being played.

The next day we played our last game in a foreign land, the weather being all that could be desired for the purpose. Prior to the game, however, we called at the Mansion House and were received by the Lord Mayor of Dublin, who gave us a genuine Irish welcome.

Our drive to the Landsdown Road Grounds took us through many of the best parts of the city, which is beautiful, and can boast of as many handsome women as any place of its size in the world.

The game that we played that afternoon was one of the best of the entire trip, from an American base-ball critic's point of view, though the score was too small to suit a people educated up to the big scores that are generally reached in cricket matches. Baldwin and Crane were both on their mettle and the fielding being of the sharpest kind safe hits were few and far between. Up to the ninth inning Chicago led by two runs, but here Earle's three-bagger, Hanlon's base on balls, Burns' fumble of Brown's hit and Carroll's double settled our chances, the All-Americas winning by a score of 4 to 3.

This game made a total of twenty-eight that we had played since leaving San Francisco, of which the All-Americas had won fourteen and the Chicagos eleven, three being a tie, and had it not been for the accident in Paris that deprived us of Williamson's services, I am pretty certain that a majority of the games would have been placed to Chicago's credit.

In the evening we left for Cork over the Southern Railway in three handsomely-appointed coaches decorated with American flags and bearing the inscription "Reserved for the American Base-Ball Party." We arrived at two o'clock the next morning, being at once driven to the Victoria Hotel. The same day we visited Blarney Castle, driving out and back in the jaunting cars for which Ireland is famous, and, though I kissed the blarney stone, I found after my return home that I could not argue my beliefs into an umpire any better than before. That night we left the quaint city of Cork behind and, after a beautiful ride of eleven miles by train, found ourselves standing on the docks at Queenstown, where a tender was in waiting to convey us to the White Star steamer that awaited us in the offing.



CHAPTER XXXI. "HOME, SWEET HOME."

Our voyage back to "God's country," by which term of endearment the American traveling abroad often refers to the United States, was by no means a pleasant one, as we encountered heavy weather from the start, the "Adriatic" running into a storm immediately after leaving Queenstown that lasted for two days and two nights, during which time we made but slow progress, and as a result there were a good many vacant seats at the table when mealtimes came. A storm at sea is always an inspiring sight, and it was a pleasure to those of us who were lucky enough to have our sealegs on to watch the big ship bury her nose in the mountainous waves, scattering the spray in great clouds and then rising again as buoyantly as the proverbial cork. The decks were not a pleasant point of vantage, however, even for the most enthusiastic admirer of nature, as a big wave would now and then break over the forward part of the vessel, drenching everything and everybody within reach and making the decks as slippery as a well-waxed ballroom.

I had quit smoking some time before starting on this trip and was therefore deprived of blowing a cloud with which to drive dull care away during the tedious days that followed. Like the rest of the party, too, once started I was impatient to reach home again, and for that reason the slow progress that we made the first few days was not greatly to my liking. The weather moderated at the end of forty-eight hours, and though the waves still wore their night-caps and were too playful to go to bed, they occasioned us but little annoyance and we bowled along over the Atlantic in merry fashion, killing time by spinning yarns, playing poker and taking a turn at the roulette wheel which Fred Carroll had purchased at Nice to remind him of his experience at Monte Carlo.

At a very early hour on Saturday morning, April 6, we were off Fire Island, and sunrise found us opposite quarantine.

Our base-ball friends in New York, who had been looking for us for three days, had been early apprised that the "Adriatic" had arrived off Sandy Hook, and, boarding the little steamer "Starin" and the tug "George Wood," they came down the bay, two hundred strong, to meet us. With the aid of "a leedle Sherman pand," steam whistles and lusty throats they made noise enough to bring us all on deck in a hurry. As the distance between the vessels grew shorter we could distinguish among others the faces of Marcus Meyer, W. W. Kelly, John W. Russel, Digby Bell, DeWolf Hopper, Col. W. T. Coleman and many others, not least among them being my old father, who had come on from Marshalltown to be among the first to welcome myself and my wife back to America, and who, as soon as the "Starin" was made fast, climbed on deck and gave us both a hug that would have done credit to the muscular energy of a grizzly bear, but who was no happier to see us than we were to see him and to learn that all was well with our dear ones. I'm not sure but the next thing that he did was to propose a game of poker to some of the boys, but if he did not it was simply because there was too much excitement going on. That evening we were the guests of Col. McCaull at Palmer's Theater, where De-Wolf Hopper, Digby Bell and other prominent comic opera stars were playing in "The May Queen." The boxes that we occupied that night were handsomely decorated with flags and bunting, while from the proscenium arch hung an emblem of all nations, a gilt eagle and shield, with crossed bats and a pair of catcher's gloves and a catcher's mask.

Every allusion to the trip and to the members of the teams brought out the applause, and by and by the crowd began to call for speeches from Ward and myself, but Ward wouldn't, and I couldn't, and so the comedians on the stage were left to do all of the entertaining.

The next day, Sunday, was spent quietly in visiting among our friends, and Monday we played the first game after our return on the Brooklyn grounds. The day was damp and cold and for that reason the crowd was comparatively a small one, there being only 4,000 people on hand to give us a welcome, but these made up in noise what they lacked in numbers and yelled themselves hoarse as we marched onto the grounds. Once again, after a hard-fought contest, we were beaten by a single run, All-America 7, Chicago 6 being the score.

At night we were given a banquet at Delmonico's by the New York admirers of the game, and it was a notable gathering of distinguished men that assembled there to do us honor, among them being A. G. Mills, ex-President of the National League, who acted as Chairman, Hon. Chauncey M. Depew, Hon. Daniel Dougherty, Henry E. Howland, W. H. McElroy, U. S. Consul; G. W. Griffin, who was representing the United States at Sydney when we were there; Mayor Chapin, of Brooklyn; Mayor Cleveland, of Jersey City; Erastus Wyman, Samuel L. Clemens ("Mark Twain"), and the Rev. Joseph Twitchell, of Hartford, Conn.; while scattered about the hall at various tables were seated representatives of different college classes, members of the New York Stock Exchange, the president and prominent members of the New York Athletic Club, and other crack athletic organizations of New York and vicinity, while in the gallery the ladies had been seated presumably for the purpose of seeing that we neither ate nor drank too much during the festivities.

Mr. Mills in his address reminded his hearers of the occasion that had brought them together and pronounced a glowing eulogy upon the game and its beauties and upon the players that had journeyed around the world to introduce it in foreign climes, and then called upon Mayor Cleveland of New Jersey, whose witty remarks excited constant laughter, and who wound up by welcoming us home in the name of the 20,000 residents of the little city across the river. Mayor Alfred Chapin of Brooklyn followed in a brief and laughter-provoking address, after which Chauncey M. Depew arose amid enthusiastic cheering and spoke as follows:

"Representing, as I do, probably more than any other human being, the whole of the American people who were deprived, by a convention that did not understand its duty, of putting me where I belong; and representing, as I do, by birth and opportunity, all the nationalities on the globe, I feel that I have been properly selected to give you the welcome of the world. I am just now arranging and preparing a Centennial oration which I hope may, and fear may not, meet all the possibilities of the 30th of April in presenting the majesty of that which created the government which we boast of and the land and country of which we are proud, but I feel that that oration is of no importance compared with the event of this evening. Washington never saw a base-ball game; Madison wrote the Constitution of the United States, and died without seeing one; Jefferson was the author of the Declaration of Independence, and yet his monument has no tribute of this kind upon it. Hamilton, the most marvelous and creative genius, made constitutions, built up systems and created institutions, and yet never witnessed a base-ball game. I feel as I stand here that all the men that have ever lived and achieved success in this world have died in vain. I am competent to pay that tribute, because I never played a game in my life, and I never saw it but once, and then did not understand it. A philosopher whom I always read with interest, because his abstractions sometimes approach the truth, wrote an article of some acumen several years ago, in which he said that you could mark the march of civilization and rise of liberty and its decadence by the interest which the nations took in pugilism. The nations of the earth which submit to the most grinding of despotisms have no pugilists. The nations of Europe which have never risen in their boasted establishments to a full comprehension of republicanism, have no pugilists. While Ireland and the Irish people, who can never be crushed, who have poetry, song and eloquence that belong to genius, have the most remarkable pugilists. England, which has a literature which is the only classic of to-day, which has an aristocracy and a form of government which is nearly democratic, has remarkable pugilists, and when you reach the seal of culture in America—Boston—you find the prince of pugilists. Now, that philosopher was right in the general principle, but wrong in the game. Civilization is marked, and has been in all ages, by an interest in the manly arts."

In conclusion Mr. Depew eulogized the returning tourists and-ended with a brilliant panegyric in favor of the National Game.

In responding to the toast, "The Influence of the Manly Sports," the Hon. Daniel Dougherty made a brilliant address in favor of outdoor games, after which President Spalding paid a compliment to the excellent conduct and ball-playing abilities of the two teams, and Captain Ward and myself made the briefest of remarks. Chairman Mills then introduced "Mark Twain," speaking of him as a native of the Sandwich Islands, which brought out the following address:

"Though not a native, as intimated by the chairman, I have visited the Sandwich Islands, that peaceful land, that beautiful land, that far-off home of profound repose and soft indolence, and dreamy solitude, where life is one long slumberous Sabbath, the climate one long, delicious summer day, and the good that die experience no change, for they but fall asleep in one heaven and wake up in another. And these boys have played base-ball there; baseball, which is the very symbol, the outward and visible expression of the drive and push and rush and struggle of the raging, tearing, booming nineteenth century. One cannot realize it, the place and the fact are so incongruous; it is like interrupting a funeral with a circus. Why, there's no legitimate point of contact, no possible kinship between base-ball" and the Sandwich Islands; base-ball is all fact, the Islands are all sentiment. In base-ball you've got to do everything just right, or you don't get there; in the Islands you've got to do everything all wrong, or you can't stay there. You do it wrong to get it right, for if you do it right you get it wrong; there isn't any way to get it right but to do it wrong, and the wronger you do it the righter it is.