I'MORS had been circulated by tea
underground' routes of baseball
oarIns (be m-uoii of 194*9 that sig
ub sere being tipped off In New
York and Ustrwi. About this time.
1 bo* iced Ira Thomas ano *Kddie"
Plank working together m a game
again s: the substitutes one day tn
moms tig jjartlft Thomas's cign&ls
•ere so ridiculously plain that I
relVd to *ite» from my .msition at
se .-ood base
“cor beaten s sake. Ira." 1 called,
“what are you trying to do? A
blind an la center field < cmid get thi ae signals."
»r right. Eddie.' be answered. "That* what
*Wy*te tor It s a stall We open a series in New I
Tarh Monday. and they may be tipping signals
there'
Instead of covering up hi* signs with his legs
•* »»y good catcher will. • ben be crouches be
hind be lat'er. Thomas was displaying his signals
so *bat runcbers at both first and third base could
se- * beta I barbed in due time that toe pitchers
were (Mr the real signs, and that Thomas had
devised this srtear tc *hmw any observers with
•W classes or other artificial aid* off their guards.
I might add that, as a res_it. la the following series
. four of the New York batters were hit with pitched
ball* gad badly hart
At Lis means that, every time a Jater faces a
ptt'-iiet ta a game of baseball In the big leagues,
there Is a duel at wtta la fact, the batter is pitted
again* both toe pitcher and the catcher, as the
tacuieat related shove wul show The aeuteness of
the ttJe! depends on the arnoant of wits nlisted on
each side Some are not very keen
although in the vernacular of baseball. It
1s called ' outguessing tae pitcher.' It is .eslly out
»!• ihg *be catcher, for the receivers almost uni
versally deride whst kind of a diet shall be served
’• 1 baiter Occasionally a pitcher disagrees and
**--»» in* r>urf*-**:uj bk tN-tiled tne
ha '• iW Me leagues hare made a careful
atudr of batters. their ' grooves" and uian
and ft is on this kno* ledge that a
M> M-r dtftetwis. Thetefure. la the majority
of rasa*, tt Is the batter out rues *:t:g the
ca t»*-r la ut.y a lew instances
do« the pitcher gire it**- signals.
do mack iarfe have toot pitchers
1b mate catchers that they pitch
* • ..getter a different brand of base
ball ta other men This is partico
l*rtf int of Krause the Philadelphia
left bander. »to {decked such sensa
ttotaal bat! :a the eatos of !!•<». and
•* Toed, of lbe New Tort American
league rtet. who was the thrill of
the leacwe last season with his
d'nsbte breaking .piibal! Krause bad
he • *adoace te any catcher except
Ira Thosese. and Ford rouU not work
fcarmoafciwaiy without "Ed" Sweeney
These catcher* did all the thinking
tor the two great twirier*, and their
»*t te the box was purely me
the rural
Krawse racked ten straight ric
•<w*-«w la a row before he fell, te
a tee taatag game with the Sf. Laiui*
•caev. thee, as neoal. te tact place.
The secret is this Thomas was catch
teg him lor the ten he pot on the shelf
I-app was behind the bat for the
eura. k* it op an<j tmutrc Knuie
pr-bed withuot rKSd*4r« in bis catcher's
)»4o»si to oatcu*** *be barters, and be lost.
Tbe uar rfcjnp »aa true of Ford in the
por- aeaewn terlea with tbe Giants In tbe
early main** -* the *rr an*.
»w-raey had his hand spilt open
wik aae at Ford • eree»trk- tpit
'*»• The HifUultr *u never
tbe u»* tala He M bo*. pitch
Oo- sonierfal bell be to capable
*f t* 'tot wrt>i He bad bo roe
hd-a-e la to lumber ias Mitchell
t* i *»4to fato ~si*fcrs.' to think ,
w ta abort to oa'.«u< M the bat- I
tea a
ft** r*tchen bare a very busy
*<•*»« of talkia* all the tune u>
M*of a better ta an effort to dis
tract bis aiteetion from his work
Jeha Kites of the ('bteaso Cabs,
keova ta bem-bat! as « bad mac
wt h a better, 'chewed Incessant
ly turns the world's senes in
which we woe the <ha!Epionshl|
from 'he Cwhs. He seemed to
wraet to distract at -eat toe from
the pitcher A favorite line of
bis was
Xww. tot s try him oa a fast
If 10
of a& afivrtutB lav
— - ■ ■ — ■ *• fcu 01 uj a
Iwfc at lb* rfyW Kite* «on!d >tr
"Hr Hfc*4 thr took* ot that Let * try him
* " Thra up mould romr a curve.
A favorite trick of LI. u to get the batter
*rg .men'. sc<i care
k*» pitcher »torX om a Iu(
•we He irM Uli oa me in
ifc» f.rm world's h-hm
as tWr nap Uu you are
the baa* baa* runner in the
Amrrirmm league.* was his
ojaMunc Uar "Wall. yow u«
■at up against American
*«*»» catchers now. young
feBew Let's are you steal a
base H yea get lost*
f iaM no attention to him.
* although be eeldeatly hojed
that 1 -anil tarn around and
T-ptl. as that I would be
caught a( my guard. And
M la rand. btrt. as a his
lonta. 1 relate the sequel. I
did /«t down to ftrai base,
and * f urstoadtng I was to
lag to steal trade hiai signal
to Otcrsll ta waste two balls
Mammimm g catcher will
aeerydty his part In this re
oj mm wui live
which will
the pitcher A thing
to bm In Chicago ono
with WaUh pitching mad
t my mind
EDDIE COLLINS
WORLD'S
CHAMPIONS
OGZZ/svir' ] j
working and which led me to forecast what
was coming. This cue and the resultant con
clusion 1 drew, based on the hasty hypothesis
of Payne's remark, resulted In a timely base
hit. The conditions and circumstances of the
hit are not likely to occur often in
a game with Walsh pitching. He
is a spit ball pitcher entirely. He
uses his "spltter" and a fast ball
with no curves. On this occasion,
Payne signalled for either a spit
ball or a fast one. I don't know
which. Walsh shook his head in
reply, and Payne gave him another
signal to which he again shook his
head.
"You don’t want this one?" Payne
mumbled in his mask, but loudly
enough for me to hear as he gave
another signal. Walsh nodded as
sent.
Now here is what passed through
my mind, after listening to the hint
carelessly dropped by Payne. Two
were out at the time, a man was
on third base, who, if he scored,
would put us ahead, and the count
on me was two strikes and no balls.
My flash of thought must have been
Cobb.
instantaneous. 1 try never to pay
any attention to the monologue of
a catcher, but Payne is naturally a
reticent man, ana ms remark surprised me.
Walsh had refused to pitch until he had re
ceived a certain sign. This made me think
that it was not going to be a “spitter” or a
fast one. evidently the first two signals given.
by Pavne. He can't intend to waste
a ball, i reasoned, because the man
is on third, and he doesn't think
he is going to try to steal. Then
it struck me.
“Can it be a curve 7" I asked my
*glf surprised. "But he never
throws one," 1 argued in my mind.
Then I remembered the surprise
betrayed in Paynes “You don't
want this one." The remark, mum
bled in his mask, had supplied the
key. I took a chance. It was a
curve, and I called the turn. It
was the first and last one Walsh
ever threw me, and probably he
would have slipped it over, had it
not been for Payne's poorly sup
pressed surprise. That cost Walsh
the game. It must be remembered
by the reader that all this giving
of signals and reasoning took place
In about a minute's time. A ball
player must think fast
>
Plank.
uia t_y young, one or tne
Solons of baseball, crossed me once
In almost the same way with re
verse English on It. It was a case of him out
guessing me. The veteran Cleveland pitcher
Is as different from Walsh, in his style, as white
Is from black. "Cy" relies ca curve and a
fast ball, never using a ‘‘spitter.’’ Toung had
Ford.
two strikes and one bail on me In
a game in Cleveland. He walked
oat of the box and part way to
the catcher to receive the ball.
Easterly, catching, signed for an
offering that did not coincide
with "Cy's” idea of the exigen
cies of the situation. The old
fellow shook his head twice,
which immediately forced me
to conclude that it would be
neither a curve nor a fast one.
Oldring was on first base at the
time, and I guessed that “Cy”
must want to waste one, think
ing be was going to try to steal.
When the ball came to me about
chin high, 1 at once concluded
that my diagnosis was the cor
rect one, and I let it go. But,
when about two feet in front of
me. it broke across my letters, a
beautiful strike, and I had not
even taken my bat off my shoul
der. “Cy” bad dished up a splt
ter from somewhere in hia as
sortment. and I didn’t even know
inmi ne couia turow one. He simply outguessed
me end caught me In the arms of Morpheus.
He had wet the ball, while walking away from
the plate with his back to me, after getting it
from Easterly, thus giving no hint that he was
going to throw a “spltter."
Young Invented this trick and empties it oc
casionally to great advantage. I have learned
since, catching a batter oft his guard. But
he depends for the most part on a curve and
a high, fast ball, relying on his wonderful con
trol to put the ball where he wants it. That
w uianci u uuuiri ui uio, u»vu
is a high, fast one in the vicinity
of the neck, is a villainous ball.
A pitcher of Young's type would
just as soon tell the batter where
he is going to try to throw the
ball, because it is generally known
that he is pitching at a batter's
weakness.
So batting in the big leagues Is
largely a game of thought The
man who outguesses the pitchers
accumulates the most hits and
the largest batting average. Lajole
is the only exception to this that
I can recall. Of course, self-con
fidence is an absolute necessity to
any successful hitter, but the
Cleveland second baseman is more
chock full of reliance in his own
batting ability than any other
player 1 know. It is not conceit,
just faith in his eye. He shuffles
out to the plate, almost carelessly,
and bangs his bat down two or
three times as if to say to the
pitcher:
"Toss one up nere ana nurry up auoui iu
I'm not particular."
He seldom lets the first one go past him.
He gets his poise, takes a couple of short
ctans wades Into the ball, and bang'
“You can't get one by tne," bis
manner appears to challenge. He
is simply bulging with confidence.
He is the one hitter and the only
successful one 1 ever saw who appa
rently doesn't try to guess what the
pitcher is going to throw and really
doesn't care. Pitchers have never
been able to discover any “groove"
that he is concealing. He simply
wades in and hits at any kind of
a ball. He is one batter in a thou
sand.
Tyrus Cobb, the Detroit star, is
the exactly opposite type of hitter.
He is thinking all the time he is
at the bat, figuring, planning, to out
guess the pitcher and the fielders, in
baseball parlance "to cross" his op
ponents. a legitimate procedure. If
he thinks that the third baseman
expects a bunt, he will hit it out.
He never chases a bad ball, and he
makes a pitcher work to the last
notch. He worries many of the
men in the box by his restlessness,
and because he is constantly guesa
lng right. He has almost clairvoyant ability
to outguess a pitcher.
In some games, I have been able to guess
right almost every time that the pitcher has
thrown the ball to me and yet have not beep
able to get a hit.
There is a great dif
ference in pitchers. Some
are easy to outguess,
and others are as bad as
a Jig-saw puule, and I
never worked out one
of those in my life. 1
know some men who
Have mannerisms in the
box which betray defln
itely the sort of a ball to be de
livered. These little physical
eccentricities are true indices
and often cost men. who would
otherwise be successful pitch
ers, many aames. It may be
the twist of the wrist in throw
ing a curve ball, or some motion
of the foot peculiar to a "spit
ter” that divulges the essential
secret. This tell-tale sign is
fatal to a pitcher, when players
get on to it, and it usually does
not take his opponcris long to
discover and associate It with a
certain kind of ball.
vvorung in combination to outguess the hat
ters, a catcher will often help a pitcher eat
by talking'incessantly, hoping in this way to
distract a hitter’s attention from his business.
Street of the Washington club is one of the
worst talkers in the business, and is called in
some strata of baseball “Qabbr." From the
time that a catcher throws the ball back to the
pitcher until he delivers It again, a batter
should never take his eyes off the pitcher.
All of the "grooves" of batters are carefully
catalogued. Every hitter in baseball, with the
possible exception of Lujoie and Wagner, is sup
posed to have what is known to the profession
as a "groove.” a certain real or imagined weak
ness. Some pitchers work to fool a batter, and
others aim at his "groove.” Young and Powell
are of the second type, and it Is this style of
pitcher that I always try to make pitch to the
limit, as they have to depend absolutely on
their control.
The catcher is obviously included in the
guessing match which always results when a
batter faces a pitcher. I recall a funny Instance ■
of "Hal" Chase making Ira Thomas look like
six nickels In a game last sum
mer. Thomas formerly played
on the Yankees, and, at the time.
Chase's sign for the squeeze
play was given by putting his
right hand to his nose. Ira had
seen him give this many times
when they were team mates.
Hut on this occasion. Chase
was playing on the New York
club, and Thomas was catching
on the Philadelphia team. It was
in the eighth inning with the
score tied, and a New York run
ner on third base, champing on
his spikes to get home when
Chase stepped to the bat. One
was out. "Hal’' went through
the usual preliminaries of knock
ing the dirt out of his spikes, fix
ing his hat the firmer, as if he
expected to take a long run and
didn't want to be called back to
get the cap. and spitting on his
hands. Then he put the first
digit of his right hand to the side
of his nose.
Uel ** oeVn/1 Tr-n
What are you going to do, nai, asaeu
“frame up something here?”
Thomas did not expect to find out anything
by the question, but wanted to drag Chase into
conversation to get his mind off his work.
Whit*.
sure i am, repuea umse, juiu
he repeated the old sign very de
liberately.
"What.” exclaimed Ira, “you're
not giving me that sign, thinking
I'm not jerry to it?”
"That's right, Ira," answered
Chase carelessly. “1 had forgot
ten you knew, but it goes any
way,”
This conversation was carried
on while Plank was pawing
around in the box and preparing ,
to pitch. As the tall southpaw
wound up, Daniel started in from ;
third base. Plank delivered a
perfect strike, and Chase half
bunted and half hit the ball, which
allowed Daniels to score. "Hal" ;
had beaten Thomas at his own
game. He had given a sign that
Thomas knew, and which the lat
ter did not for a moment think
had been passed out seriously.
Therefore Ira did not signal for a
pltchout as he would have done ,
if he had guessed the play was j
coining. Thus Chase double-crossed Ira. a
ball player is trying to outguess the pitcher
from the time he leaves the bench until he
sits down again. He doesn't terminate his
engagement at the plate. As soon as a bats
Chase.
mail uecuuifa a u«oc luuuct, I
object is advancement.
Every ball player knows ex
actly bow much of a lead be can
take off first base on a certain
pitcher and not get caught. There
are recognized standards in the
big leagues. For instance, I know*
that I can go fifteen feet away
from the bag and get safely back
with “Doc” White of Chicago
pitching, but if 1 go a step over
ten feet i on Walsh of the same ,
club I will probably get nipped.
I can’t exactly explain what I
mean, but when I once get ac
customed to a pitcher’s delivery.
I know how far to venture.
In base running. I believe
that tne secret oi
success Is the start,
absolutely. Speed Is
a great asset, but
the start Is every
thing.
Outguessing the
pitcher and catcher U
a sort of instinct wmcn some pmyera
others never attain. A man seems to do it by
intuition and often cannot tell Just what con
crete hypothesis leads him to reach a certain
conclusion. But believe me, it is a groat art for
a ball player to have, a great art, and one to
be cultivated.
Man a Dependant Creature
Wit* Art
C«**T
Independent df
Art rropcnjr
greatness, you will always find it con
sists In a human spirit finding some
cause or principle or person and giv
ing himself up to it. There is no hero
tom that to not self-surrender.
The good mother to one who to tied
to her children. A man's passions
never become noble until they are
chained to-the one woman he has
chosen. It Is this sense of servitude,
of ltrnlnfT. of Obedience to another in
our innermost will and feeling, that
lends honor and stature to oar com
monest human relations. Jesus was
never taller than when he called him
self “Servant of All." And it was said
of him. “It behooves the captain of
our salvation to learn obedience."
Freedom is only a superficial and a
relative term; it can only mean re
nouncing a low master for a higher
one. Our fathers declared their inde
pendence of King George only that
they might serve the people.
Those who are independent of every
government are properly called pi
rates and bandits, and are hunted
down by all nations as enemies of
mankind.
Those who seek to be entirely Inde
pendent, to do as they please, to be
their own master, become speedily
Blares to the worst of masters, their
own appetites.
The beauty of a worthy master is
that he sets ns free. Only as we find
that to which we can look up and rev
erence, and as we find that which is
reverencing. do we escape from the ir
rltatlng slavery Itself. ‘If the son
shall make you free, ye shall be free
Indeed.”—Dr. Frank Crane.
Had Bean Cautioned.
"Where you been to so late, young
man?”
“I’ve been calling on Sally Simp
Hna, father, and she's promised to
marry me at last!”
“Serves you right! 1 told you that
fou’d get Into trouble if you didn't
keep away from that girL*’—Harper’t
Bazar.
PARTN E RS
By ANNIE HINRICHSEN
(Copyright. 19x1. by Associated Literary Press.)
“Our partnership must end." The
girl spoke decisively.
“I don’t see the reason.” objected
the man.
"We have been writing together
very successfully for several weeks,”
she explained. “But we have reached
a point in our work where each one
can do better alone. If we stay to
gether our influence on each other
will be a real detriment to success.
My work will take on the quality of
yours; yours will become like mine.
Our talents will develop if we work
separately.”
In spite of the hurt in his eyes Gra
ham Ford's lips twitched.
“Perhaps I seem ungrateful.” Nor
ma Atwood went on. “I am really
your protege rather than your part
ner. I came to the city with the in
tention of devoting my life to newspa
per and magazine work. All my ar
ticles and stories were refused. When
I met you I was utterly discouraged.
1 told you my difficulties. You read
my stuff, showed me how to alter it
into salable matter and introduced
me to editors. Success came immedi
ately. I am selling everything I
write. We have been working to
gether. You write your things and
I write mine. Every morning you
come here to my flat and we go over
the stories and give each other advice
and suggestions. We have called our
selves literary partners.
“Yesterday the Arcade asked me to
furnish them a daily story- These
stories and my work will take all my
time and these morning hours to
gether must be given up."
Ford’s brows drew together. 'T un
derstand.” he said briefly. “You offer
two good reasons; you are so success
ful that you haven’t time for me, and
we can do better work without the as
sistance of each other.”
Two weeks later Norma Atwood
went to the office of the Arcade.
"Mr. Mills,” she said to the man
aging editor, "you promised to pub
lish a story of mine every day for an
indefinite period. This morning you
sent back to me a bundle of my
stories accompanied by a letter tell
ing me to write better ones if I
I Can Be a Partner—"
wished the Arcade to use them. I’ve
come to ask you what is the matter
with them.”
The editor was a direct man and a
(rank one. "They lack snap and
point. Your earlier stories were
clever; these are flat Write as well
as you did a few weeks ago and no
story will be returned to you.”
I few days later another bundle of
stories was returned to her.
One evening Graham Ford came to
the little flat. It was his first visit
since the dissolution of the partner
ship.
“How are you getting along?" he
asked abruptly.
“I am very busy,” she began brave
ly.
“Are you selling much?”
“Every writer has periods of fail
ure.”
"What Is the Arcade doing with
your stuff?”
“Sending it back to me.” After a
moment she added, “So is every other
editor.”
“Brutes,” he anathematised. “Let
me see your stories.”
He went through them, cutting,
transposing and adding whole para
graphs. “These are good stories,” he
commended. “Try them on those
editors again. They will buy. You
write well.”
She shook her head.
“Norma, let’s go back to our part
nership. Will you? I’m lonesome :
and unhappy. I can’t write alone."
“Every big magazine in the country '
is buying your work. You don't need
me. You never needed me. But
I—“
“I'm lonesome and miserable. I do
need you. I want a literary partnei
and I want the other kind of partner,
too. I want a wife, Norma. I love you,
dear, and I can’t go on without you."
"You will have to. I shall neither
marry you nor resume our literary
partnership.”
The next day she took the revised
stories to the editor of the Arcade.
He glanced over them. "Good stuff,”
he announced. “You’ve touched up
these stories and put the real sub
stance into them. I'll publish these
and all others as good.”
She gathered them up. “They are
not for publication. I wanted to
know something about them, and you
have told me what I wished to know.”
Three months later, in response to
a charmingly worded note, Graham
Ford came to Norma’s flat for dinner.
The living-room had been refur
nished and was a harmony of dull
woods and soft colors. Before the
grate fire was a small table set for
two. Norma wore over her pretty,1
light gown a white apron.
It was a well cooked dinner which
the white-aproned hostess served. Gra
ham Ford ate steadily and appreciate-'
ly through the course When the
meal was finished they carried the'
table into the tiny kitchen. Graham!
looked about for the cook, but saw no;
one.
Norma pushed an easy chair before
the fire He dropped Into it and light
ed a cigar. Norma, still wearing her
apron, sat on a small chair drawn,
close to hie
“Graham,” she said in a low voice,
“how do you like it—my little flat and
my dinner?”
“It is a domestic paradise,” he
sighed. “Would you like to have it
all the time? You can if you want;
to,” she went on as he stared bewil-:
dered. “I refused you a literary wife.
Will you take a domestic one? Sit
still while I tell you about it I was
so spoiled by my literary success that
I thought I had real talent I ended
our partnership. After that I could
not sell a story. The only merit my
stories possessed was the revision
you gave them. With it they sold;
without it they were worthless.
“After we separated I realized that
—that I loved you. When you asked
me to marry you I wanted to—I want
ed to with all my heart. But I could
not do It I had nothing to give you
in return for all you were ready to
give me. I refused you and—and—I
went to school to learn to be a good
home-maker. I learned to cook, to ar
range rooms, to shop economically.
I’ve practiced here in my little flat,
trying to become proficient enough
to—to make your home comfortable
and happy. I'm a literary failure, but
I am a good cook and now I can be a
real partner—a useful one—if you—”
But the rest of the sentence was
left unfinished as the girl and the big
white apron were drawn into the easy
chair.
Small Republics.
Kleln-Alp is a diminutive republic
tucked away between Switzerland and
France. Only in summer is tbe re
public Inhabited, and then by miners
and cowgirls. There is one hotel,
closed during the winter. Another lit
tle republic is in Tyrol, between Aus
tria and Italy, and in long gone years
was under the jurisdiction of first a
king and then an emperor. But in the
adjustment of frontier lines the state
of Val di Ventlno was in some way
overlooked, and it promptly organized
Itself into a Lilliputian republic. • It
has now about 2,000 inhabitants, liv
ing in six villages. Neither Val di
Ventlno or Kleln-Alp have any taxes.
There are no officials or compulsory
military service. The only Industry
of Val di Ventlno, aside from the
farming of small fields, is charcoal
burning.
Just Baby’s Size.
In a car filled with ladies, a 90
pound dude sat wedged in tightly. At
a street corner a fat woman, hand
somely dressed and with a baby In
her arms, got In. The little dude strug
gled to his feet and touched his hat'
politely, remarking facetiously:
“Madam, will you take this seat?" *
The fat lady looked at tbe crevice
he had left and thanked him pleas
antly.
“You are very kind, sir,” she said.
"I think it will just fit the baby."
And it did.—New York Evening
Mail.
Marvel Explained.
Mrs. A.—Your boy is different from
the others I know. He always keeps
bis face clean.
Mrs. B—Yes; he hates so to have it
washed.
BRAVERY CF STOKE-HOLE MEN
Many Deeds of Heroism Reported
Among Firemen on Board War
Vessels end Merchant Ships.
The president has presented medals
to the six members of the engineer’s
crew of the battleship North Dakota,
who, when an explosion of oil fuel
occurred, rescued injured comrades
amid steam and deadly fumes and
saved the ship from destruction.
It is one of the curious anomalies
known to the merchant service of the
salt water that stoke-hole men, re
crulted from human riffraff and scarce
recognizing the mere existence of dis
cipline, have risen to the noblest hero
ism. They have stayed by vessels
deserted by deck officers and men.
They have made repairs when every
breath drew in scalding steam and
worked at furnace doors when the
water was so high upon the plates it
splashed into the ash pit doors. It is
their lot to be held partly in contempt j
and partly in fear. Their labor saps i
the life of strong men. That of fire- \
men has been placed as low as si*
years. They are always In danger
from shifting coal, breaking pipes and
tumbling slice bars. The beat of the.
waves may throw them against white
hot furnaces or the waves themselves,
coming over the rails, may tumble
through gratings and drown them like
rats in a barrel.
It is surely a great thing that
beings of ill reputation and hard, cruel
lives, should yet appear on the records
and in the tales never recorded as
the bravest men in the hour of trial.
The six men of the North Dakota!
because they are of the navy, gain
something of reward. They are. how
ever, but brothers of a world wide
family.
' The Leader.
A Kansas City hotel boasts of hav
ing five brides as guests in one day
In Houston, where about 150 passen
ger trains arrive every day, the
brides enter the corridors In such a
stream that It is not uncommon for
the sweepers to gather up a bushel
and a half of rice at a single sween
—Houston PosL **'
