X PITCHING sad winning >our games.** I have often been asked by devotees of the American game, "how ranch figure does brain work cutr* ajany an ronest young ta natic has asked me that question during the ten years and more that I have been pitching major league base ball. peering at my bead meanwhile as though he ex pected some sorb reply as “no beadwcrk whatever." Many an older and wiser baseball follower. fortified by the »>U ju kuaslcdse that comes to men after pears jf sqwittiar a the grand-stand, has asked me the same tfetu ■ a Baodifred fora. I li jb much 'i*ure u:j«* bra In work cut? 1 don't quite know n.**-tf 1 do km a that bo pitcher, however powerful or agile, can !. |* to become a great performer without being thoroughly •qai.ipBd from the shoulders up ” The steel arm is desirable, t* - . -id r. • is even more de>irahle. but. without the little filling ay ms"ter that Is popularly supposed to inhabit the skull, a - >*chsr aught Just an well pack bis suit-case and go back to •»*■» ’ HI ■ • ■ urn ha » .--5 tat IhMwrei it isn’t t- raa ia the arm. because lots of longshoremen could snap a P*! hnr’n arm tn two wttk a single twist; it * the combination of •- and body, the perfect co-operation of mind and muscle, that makes a Burn a successful major league twirler. Most pitchers who break into fast company and stay there if MMMmdy I—wrrflBg their nbOKy. are men that went through a long course of sprouts before they got anywhere. They, like hundreds of successful men in other walks of life, were forced to look, listen, and learn before they bad anything like an even chance to win their spurs Many things have been said and written about pitchers out guessing batters, and batters out guessing pitchers, and to tell the truth there has always been a question in tny mind about the Outguessing proposition I have seen so many instances where guesses went mrong—so many hun dreds of instances—that ! am about 'he .ast human being in the world to poae as an oracle on the subject of pitching psychology. Ap-r-M, p DEVLiN >ever’n< :e*s. mere certainly is a kx of psychol.Tgy about pitching a baseball. Gear :n* that a rber needs something more than a clear bead, it must be admitted that the successful pitcher is always a student There are a hundred and one little things tbi: every good 'airier has in his repertoire, a hundred and advice in mind. I gave Cross noth ing hut too curves during the series, and bad him helpless from the Mart Had it not been for Gleason s tip. Monte's always dangers** hat might have caused rouble in that series, for there were nat very ckue games before it was all over. The great** strength of a pC< uer. aside from his control, is • hat it-*- players call uis mixture ' That means no more nor leua thaa what the word implies—his variety of fast and slow halis. bis serving of this or that curve What we call the 'change of pane." the delivering of a fast and then a slow bill wMh tb. same preliminary motioaa. and the mixing of a high faai ball and a slow curve are the success ful pitcher's beat assets. 1-"**- o! baseball have often asked me bo* 1 d* <•.) with a batsman whom 1 have never laced and about whose batting ability 1 kn<>w nothing Every seasoned pitcher has a called on often enough to meet t«m • r. be never saw before, and in such V t ■ the work of the rest of the team. Disgruntled fans frequently make the assertion that inflelders and outfielders will not support certain pitchers. That idea is er roneous. Ball players always want to win. no matter who is in the box. It is usually lack of control on the part of the pitcher that disconcerts or demoralizes the infield. Flayers lose confidence because they are uncertain as to what will happen next. The catcher may call for a “pitch-out"_ that is, a ball thrown wide of the batter, so that the catcher can have a clear throw to second to catch a runner who is about to steal. The inflelders all see this signal and both the shortstop and second baseman leave their positions to assist in making the play. If the pitcher does not pitch-out, as expected the batter may hit the ball through the spot left vacant and up^ set the whole team. Once they lose confidence in a pitcher in a game, it is very difficult to regain it. It is not that thev will not support the pitcher. On the contrary, it is the fault of the pitcher who will not give them a chance. If the pitcher has control everything works smoothly. If it were true that pitching is 90 per cent, of the strength of a ball club, it would be log ical to assume that the team having the best staff of pitch ers would always win the nen nant. That Is not true. The baseball reader who pays attention to records will notice that the teams which win the pennants al ways have several players who lead in their respective de JOE TINKER i«uiuieiiu. auu this does not necessarily in clude the pitchers. For instance, the Baltimore club, back in the early nineties, won three successive pennants with pitch ers whose names can scarcely be remembered. The hackneyed cry of “ What we need is pitchears" could well be changed to "What we need is hitters, base runners and field ers. Without them there can be no pennants. Some of the best pitchers ever connected with professional baseball have received bumps from sources so humble that any false esteem they may have held for themselves has van ished like the snows of last season. Cy Young, the noblest old Roman of them all, has been beaten by Tillage teams. The best pitchers of the world's champions, not long after they had trimmed the Cubs, were beaten by the unknown Cuban teams they faced during their late barn storming trip. They pitched good ball, the kind of ball that would defeat any team if it came to a matter of whole season s record, but luck, the one thing above all others that makes baseball the thrilling and perfect game it is. decreed otherwise. There are times, you see. when all the science and all the outguessing in the world will not avail. 1 shall never forget a trimming 1 got from a village team in Michigan. Just after we had defeated the Athletics for the world’s championship in 1905. Frank Bowerman and I went on a hunting trip. As soon as the natives of Frank's home town, Rom^o. Mich., knew that I was his guest, they came and begged us to do the battery work for the Romeo club in a game they were to play with the club representing the adjoining town. IV e agreed, and I am afraid that our willingness cost a lot of honest Romeo villagers everything except their family plate. The thought of defeat never entered their minds, an/ more than it entered ours, but the little rival towns club came over to Romeo and gave Messrs Bowerman and Mathewson. fresh from their big league triumphs, a touch of high life that they never forgot They beat us 5 to 0, and I guess they are celebrating it to this day. I don't know just how they managed It, be- -hONUS" WAGNER cause I was in perfect trim at that time. 1 had everything, as we say in professional circles, and they hit everything I had. I didn't mind it much myself, but 1 felt sorry for poor Bowerman. He had to keep oa living there, and 1 didn't. The real test of a pitcher's ability arrives when the oppos ing team gets men on bases. His responsibility is increased while his freedom of pitching motion is restricted. He must watch the base runner constantly and at the same time must deliver the ball to the batter with the least possible swing of the arm. In other words, he can't wind up.” Some pitchers And it difficult to get as much speed, curve or accuracy with the short arm motion as they do with their usual swing. This affects some pitchers mentally, as the curtailment of physical effort prevents them from concentrating their mind on the man at the bat. At the same time the base runners, and frequently the coach ers, are constantly trying to annoy them. To protect himself the pitcher most try and de tect some action on the part of the base runner w’nch will indicate when he is going to attempt to steal the next base. In this he is mate rially assisted by the catch er. Once the pitcher or the catcher discovers when the SHERWOOD MAGEE, runn7 " 10 lu<* of Philadelphia. r*medy is aImPle- ^'fquent throws to the base will pre vent the runner from getting too much of a lead, and when he does start, the ball is pitched out of reach of the bat ter so that the catcher can have a clear throw to second. While the pitcher is watching the base runner he knows that the base runner is also watching him. in an effort to as certain whether the bail is to be delivered to the plate or to the base. Therefore, no preliminary movement on the part of the pitcher must betray his intentions. George Van Haltren, the famous base runner of his day. once told me that he could tell to a cer tainty when certain pitchers were going to deliver the ball to the batter. This en abled him to get a running start and many times the poor catcher was blamed for allowing a stolen base, when in fact the pitcher was unconsciously at fault. John McGraw. manager of the Giants, spends several weeks each season in ■ teaching his young pitchers to overcome that kind of a weakness. The tremendous popularity of the national game—its popularity is grow ing every year—means that in the years to come there will be hundreds of baseball stars where there are doz ens now. Every healthy boy has it in him to become a good ball player, though he may never care to follow the pastime professionally. Being a professional player myself, I may be over-fond of the game to which I owe so muco, out i can mine oi many otn- 3AM CRAWFORD er callings and many other pastimes of Detroit, that a boy might better shun. Base ball is always played out in the sunshine, where the air is pure and the grass is green, and there is something about the game, or at least I have always found it so, which teaches one how to win or lose as a gentleman should, and that is a very fine thing to learn. The Offense Defined Gtacid Graft, aa attorney of Terre Haaia. tad. **• oaee called Into a ^lodry atore » that ton to aettla F ham. Oeaeral." espMaad the mm. *1f I take a watch fraa Mr. ,—■ mm tea cents aad tb«e keep It up far a week and charge him an defier* ahaa he eetae. to get h. „ what percentage do I make? We have been figuring for half an hour and only get up to 900 per cent., and that la but a dollar, so we decided to leave it to you.** "Well.” said the General gravely, "you most know that it is a fact, and It has been demonstrated by calcu lating machines, that at certain points is progressive numbers the law gov erning them changes. In your case the law would change long before It reached the six dollars, and woud run out of percentage and into what is known and designated as larceny. Canine Prudence. “Do you want to be taught human speech?" asked the St Bernard. “No," replied the collie. “We dogs are now regarded as remarkably in telligent. But a reputation for sagac ity is peculiar. The more you talk the more you are liable to lose it” Patriotism—and Patriotism There are two kinds of patriotism. First is the variety which seeks to separate one’s country from other countries and set her over against them, as their rival or enemy—and then glories In her power to outshine or overcome them, to put them to shame by her superiority, or to bring them to her feet in subjection. The other is the patriotism which seeks to identify one’s country with the Interests of our common human Ity; which considers her as the helper and friend of all the needy, as the champion of the oppressed, as a leader among those who are working to extend the boundaries of freedom and peace and eager to co-operate with all other peoples of good will in breaking down the barriers that keer nations apart.—Washington Gladden. gygajaaaasaiixggiaBassswsa^^ «==7i»ooocc«ecooccccooossoacoceassccc*E=5ji bwl >>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<< E41 Us=»sggg>assgsggsassiasggsggsgsassscsggirfc^5V xg^’iftggg»»gg5ggsss»aasggagggggg«gcgc=»i For Self and Wife BY IZOLA FORRESTER j - __ (Copyright. 1911. by Associated Literary Press.) "I'm positive it’s Ralph.” Vera1 leaned forward in her steamer chair to get a good look at the man who had just passed. “He has marched around about 40 times so far this morning, Phil, and I do wish you'd find out for me.” “I didn’t know you were so keen ; on digging up Ralph.” Phil’s tone ; was a mere grunt of disgust, from ! the depths of his rug. “Didn’t that ; die out at Pinehurst last fall?” “Didn't what die out?" Vera looked meditatively and innocently out to sea. "Weren’t you engaged?” “Not exactly." “Not exactly? Upon my word. Vera, you girls get on my nerves. You think love's a polo game. When a chap come s a cropper, you lift your eyebrows, and say it’s too bad he I can’t play right. You know Ralph was awfully cut up after you left, and—when did you see him last?” Vera rose, smiling mysteriously. “Phil, it wouldn’t be right for me to tell you. It’s bad enough to en courage those—er—polo players, but it's worse to give a description of how they took the tumble. Go and find out from the ship's list if it is Ralph; there's a dear. And If it is, look him up. and be nice.” Most unwillingly Phil obeyed in ; structions. There was over six years | between Vera and himself, and an i elder sister has rights which even a i fellow of eighteen has to recognize, i Carefully he went over the list of llrst | cabin passengers, but found no such j name as Ralph Maynard. “He’s in stateroom D. promenade deck, because I asked a steward.” Phil protested. “Who's got that room —can you tell?" "Somerset Lane, for self and wife." the purser told him. “I think they're just married, and on their honey moon.” “I don’t believe It,” Vera said, calmly, when Phil brought back the news. “It Is Ralph. I know, now. Vera’s Face Was a Study. because I bowed to him as he went by the forty-first time, while you ! were gone, and he knew me. Why should he ship under an assumed name?" "Maybe It's a secret marriage." suggested Philip archly. "He's a wise 1 old dog. anyway.” "He is not. Phil. If ever there was an open-and-above-board. straightfor ward boy. It's Ralph Maynard. Did It give the wife's name?” Phil shook his head. "Just said for self and wife.” "But where's the wife? If he were on his honeymoon, would he be tramp ing the deck madly hour after hour?” “Maybe she's seasick." -Phil sug gested brightly. “I saw him talking to that old chap from Virginia in the 1 smoker this morning, so on the way back up the companion way I ran into him and asked if he knew Somerset Lane. He said he did. that he was a bully young chap, and it was a shame his wife was so delicate that she had to keep to her stateroom all through the passage over.” Vera's face was a study. She frowned and pursed her pretty lips tensely. Some way, she could not : picture Ralph's wife at all. She could only remember the last night at Pine hurst. It had been in September, and the Carolina beach looked wonderful ly fair In the rich, golden moonlight. Hatless, they had mounted horses and gone for a canter at low tide along the wet sands, far. far out, to what they called Lovers' Leap. It was a jut.ing headland of rock that cut off the beach. And It was here that Ralph had taken his chance with Fate. She could see him still, bending toward j Both Qualities Are Needed _ » The Beautiful and the Useful Must Be Developed to Make Mankind Perfect. Mankind can only be made by all ; men. the world by all its powers to | gether. Often enough they war | among themselves, but even as they try to destroy each other, nature holds them together and brings them forth again. From the first animal impulse towards construction up to the highest exercise of intellectual art, from the laughter and shouts of childhood up to the glorious utterance of the orator and the singer, from the first scuffles of boyhood up to the huge armaments by which nations are lost and won, from the faintest kindli ness and the most transitory affection up to the most burning passion and the deepest bond; from the merest sensation of the tangible present up to the most mysterious presentiments and hopes for the furthest spiritual future, all this, and far more, lies In j man. and must be brought out and unfolded; only not In one man. but In many. Every capacity is Important, and all must be developed. One in dividual can only work for the beau tiful. another only for the useful; but both are needed to make a man.— Goethe. Used Fists Instead of Pens. A unique method of settling a polit ical dispute was recently adopted by two Queensland journalists, Mr. Mur phy, editor of the Charleville Times, a Liberal organ, and Mr. Kilner, editor of the local Guardian, Labor. They decided to settle the matter by a pub lic fight with boxing gloves. The hall was crowded and both men fought fiercely. The first round was decided ly in favor of Mr. Murphy. In the second round Mr. Kilner fared even worse. The third finished him com pletely and In less than a minute be was hanging on the ropes in a dazed condition. her from his saddle, his face a bit hard and tense in the cool moonlight, his eyes full of yearning. She had said no, of course—every girl does the first time she is asked by a man —and if he had been older he would have understood the challenge In her eyes and words, and fought the game out with her to its whining. She had wished him to win, but the next morning when she had risen she got the news of his departure for New York on the first train out. And now he was on board, under an assumed name, in a stateroom "for self and wife.” “I say, Vera, here he comes,” Phil said suddenly. “I’m going. Good | luck, sis. You might offer my con gratulations with your own. They say lemons are good for seasickness." The next moment Ralph Maynard stood in front of her, cap off, very erect, and on the defensive, but with the same splendid brown eyes that could plead a cause better than all the lips in the world, she had once thought. “I would have spoken before, but you didn't seem to remember me, \ Miss Chalmers.” “We've only been out one day?” She looked up with a smile, but it was not an encouraging smile. A girl does not feel sunny and sweet tempered toward a man who takes unto himself a wife six months after he has made love to her. "I had not noticed you before.” “May I take Phil’s chair for a while?” “Surely, if you wish.” She waited a moment, then said gently, very gent ly: "How is your wife, Mr. Maynard?” "Good Lord, I’m not married,”, gasped the boy. "How can you asfc that, when you know I never loved any woman in the world but you, Vera? Why, I heard at the last min ute you and Phil were sailing on this boat for the Tuttle wedding in London and I caught it at the last minute, just i for the chance of even looking at ! you.’’ "Haven't you a wife in stateroom D, who is seasick and unable to ap ! pear during the voyage?” He met her clear blue eyes un | flinchingly and tried to speak, but she went on. "Didn't you tell the old gen ; tleman from Virginia, in the smoker, that your wife was delicate? Aren't you registered on the list as Somer set Lane? Oh, Ralph, I never thought you could do such a thing! And then to make love to me—” She tried to rise, but he caught both her hands and held her firmly. “Listen, sweetheart,” he said. “I ! was fool enough to let you get away from me last fall at Pinehurst, but you won’t this time. I am registered as Somerset Lane. Don't struggle, please, till I get through, and the passage was booked for ‘self and wife.’ ” “Then where's your wife?" she flashed back. "She's a myth." he laughed. “It was too late to engage a regular passage on this boat. Everything was taken. So I hustled to the brokers' offices and landed a ticket and booking for Somerset Lane and wife—” “But who are they?” "Who cares? I took the double booking, of course, for the chance of crossing with you. And I had to carry it out. didn't 1? I am Somerset Lane, pro tem. If my wife isn't sea sick. where is she? I have to tell something about her, or they'll accuse me of having thrown her overboard. Don't you see?" Her eyes were full of mirth. "It's very suspicious.” “Xot half so suspicious as it will be when I come back on another boat under my own name, with another wife. Can you risk it, Vera?” She hesitated and sighed, then laughed again. "I suppose that is really as near as you’ll ever get to a proposal, Ralph, so I'll have to say yes. You may book passage for self and wife on the return trip, but don’t you dare take it on this boat.” High-Class Samoan Dialect. Robert Louis Stevenson described amusingly how the Samoan noble had a private dialect of his own. quite dis tinct from the common people’s. Th6 ordinary words for an ox, blood, bam boo, a bamboo knife, a pig and an oven were taboo in a noble's presence And the noble had special words of his own for his leg. face, hair, belly, eyelids, son, daughter and wife, his dwelling, spear, comb, sleep, dreams and anger, his food, his pleasure in eating, his ulcers, cough, sickness, re covery and death, his being carried out on a bier, the exhumation of his bones and his skull after death.