FAN and
the UMPIRE
= A BILLY EVANS i
— AMERICAN LEAOUE UMPIRE *■
i —COPVTJtGHT &y~
*^SS^iSSS®©! pEAPsaw PUB. ca
ET your giaajmi on "
i am tetter con. ult an op
IM lit. “
- -oil I »* rirf gal a cioao
imeumm'T’
Vi to «-rer fol4 you Ihtt
yr«M> uiujurt*"
Url to tk>- nbU>t> count
er tor you tery t tartly,
IVrcy.”
S;». h horn c:uci»
■ ft- ■- ■ lot throwing
the *»a»r
Uoh'l you ktw>K enough
to wir. v two you iuttr son*
totally W»(jr
You o - 'Wit own bare
must* -J i.* an ;mr btm to ho'J four jub."
7' i .. , thing ii M>«l ti.it U»>k» i.k* M
■a.1 & .» your rna-.h >e4 prut •« tor.“
> . Mtu start to run -<r tbe bark (<•!'■»
» u • to t* Wd fur or are g ring
to tot »«•*
Ti- »«- nit a too million more romriiiuient
art - t «n.s*ii.ias at a i.k*- mm lure art burl-cd
at ibr 4ans( Uo evert* at a closely
CVS. rt*d fJtMUf
It u realiy vraag* and o< a<S- nul Into what
a ft i ff tbo tiHttr baseball fan can vork him
***J during 4b* ywgrwi of an earning yam*
|t . „:*»«<•» Mcredtbie to tt.fck a hat be will do.
or . . >ua Ik imagine* (he empire hat niriie
a tnat 4*~ tuna that faaa apparently put hia
club out of 1W raaulng
Proauiaasit r viiPt. l-rtlng rtahed doctor*.
neU-taovn actor*, stain boatmv*t men. tn fact
men nr all rhma. id! mranabl- Jump to their
feet « shu they cucvhSer a punk fcHitca"
and -hake (heir tiu violently, utter ail kinds
of iro e «*• remark* and ift»:st that nothing
■ta M.tuff their thirst (or r-»enge but the
Me hkaad «( the poor, defeats!*** umpire.
The neat day. arbeu same one meet* one of
the frenzied rooter». and in a J thing nay **
p_s t - to him boo be * ted and tell* him tome
ut the thane* ne said about the umpire. Mr.
Loyal Meaner *ake* a ros then and there that
he aria Merer again open hi* mouth a* a ball
game no spatter hoar thrilling the a!'nation.
Perhaps the eery e-ft afternoon, if the prop
«r snaftn met, m o'ill unknowingly com
mx the aery art of (be prertons day
iiik pride la to bo admired is all thing* K
t— iHi— tan who dor** ■ want to see tae home
•eta triumph Is tmtoAf a p*ra!lir sort of man.
IVluj* it might be veil for him to hare his
•a*..'* tpaeengated Dei ire to srtn at any cost
boeoea Sira make* mtri’** at person* abno
|r»!j unfair It their ru-wt and opinion*
The eateni to atkt the fas alll allow hia
nan (aide tn dominate his opinion was sd
Mmsrated to me one day last year While
on my nay to the bote! after a jaricahrlr
b-... not gaue, which the home team tad
Ins: by a sens* of 1 to • after a desperate Rtrug
g.r I mas orach amored at (h> roarer sat ion of
a icvsle of cy-d athewwi fans srbo happen
«d te be m the name car
!■ was unueitixm* o;.:aw* of or ery
«U *ba» -he t:«K4f team needed good Biwd
board* instead Of regulation UU. if ’bey
o..- <w to a:a a They cited m
L T 6t i t obec*- a hit. or even a
fy V artitf *t>.M Ut* »o* The cam
t»-: AU of ib-?» »e»* «*<r» over the io^« of
tW (tar KttTT^iBt borauat of the weak
MMtatg of *brtf taroritea They proclaimed
it* rtmon «ra«K la eeery raopun. That
•at rat «*» the M( f»*at of the day The
far.-* tM*>< to forget that for 11 mains*
It. htttin* of the nation was Just as treble
as that of the bunt teats That The hit
that ml the at; run of the (tat acros* the
(hat* was doe to a larky bound which seat it
over the snood baseman's head To me It «a*
on tf (fee let usm of the year
The fellow tag day the how team son by
a aery oae»iM score of It to 1 As. fate
■tail hen- k. I bumped tato several fans
of the pr« tho day oo the ear dowa town
TW control was a decidedly poor one. I
thin mill the owe aad ooly r*d**aln( feature
betas 'he heed Inttisi of the home chib
The Ice* were aa'lifted. however, for it was
au>totoaely «r-t«n that the home boys had
raceimd their turtles eye*, aad that from
aow am they e mM soahe tV ben of them
Met the IMBM to Wla
forget a tilth id* <dhai that hap
r O Imaghlift dunas a same at
erne dajr. which illustrates what
will do when the home team tr set
I happened to be working back of the plate
that sftitama. arhtle Silk" was performing oo
the tmsoa All 'be dime plsya seemed to come
op Oh the haoea ‘ 8ttk~ had at lean a duten
pteya that male have been circa uate way or
the other, because of the estreme cloaca eas
m 'kallr all of the plays aeot against the
home team, aad while etlk had little or oo
tnaMt (no the players, a tan. oho aaa sit
lias la the thud base aretkm of the grandstand
rhi tv to disagree with the arbitrator on prac
tically all of ata roltmftt- He kept up a
eoHey of remark* tkiaagkoaf the game, and
hdure na doso had eaiusied <j«dtc a few voi
d the actions of this one lone
to a rather strrn
bis work «as well
discovered that hts en
Ih the front row of the
that he ware glasses He
the dose of
xproas himself to
to win M br i
relit la his Jiiblla
the fas
n
the title of umpire
e-*-r esisted. The Irish
in Silk's" blood was
up. however, and he
managed to work his
way through the crowd
to writer*' the frenzied
rooter was celebrating
over the victory. Tae
fan was a well-dressed
i up. and app ared to
r'jsaess more than the
average intelligence.
You have a lot of li
cense to be roasting an
umpire, when you have
to wear a j«:r of thick
glasses to be able to
even tee. I can’t see
how you ever unpaged
to b-eak info th“
grandstand. Your piaca
U on tl - outside. tiAi«
mg nro .2h a Knot fcoie." Tile fan said nary
a »ord in repiy. an i "Silk" having gotten all
the •.*-m.m out of his system, was content to
drop the tiitter It was evident front the look
of embarrassment that came civr the rooter's
'■ ■ ■■ .hat b<- was thoroughly dismissed with
himself He just beg.m to realize what he
lad been d eg throughout the afternoon.
ahor'lj after we had reached our dressing
room 'here was a knock at the door. We
bade our visitor enter He introduced him
s.*if as Dr. "So and So," a very promt
cent eye specialist We both began to won
der if he had c iae to examine our optics.
"I just overheard your conversation with
that ex ited fan. Mr. O'bouzhiin.” said the
si-ecialist . “I really can't blame you for
savr c what you did to him. but I would ad
vise you to ignore him in the future. I've
been treating that chap for a year for eye
trouble His sight is decidedly defective.
He really ran t see 90 feet with any kind
of accuracy. He wouldn't have known
wheiber it was you or Jack Sheridan um
piring the bases if some one hadn't told
him “
Silk" almost keeled over when he heard
•be news. It simply goes to show what
baseball will do to a man, especially if the
home team happens to be .losing This chap
with the defective eyesight was getting an ex
cellent umpire into trouble because most of
the decisions were going against the home
team, and he mas so partisan in spirit that he
could see only one side of the argument.
When you come to think it over, and
weigh carefully the cold facts, it is really
remarkable the work that devolves upon
an umpire during a ball game. In the course
of a regular nine inning contest he Is
called upon to render between 375 and 400
decisions Rather remarkable figures. Con
sidering bis arduous duties, it is not to be
wondered at If he errs. Indeed it is remark
able that the judges of play do not slip up
more frequently Here Is a little data that
la mighty interesting. Possibly a perusal of
it may cause the umpire to receive more fa
vorable consideration.
In a nine iuning game on an average of
3$ men on each team will face the pitcher,
making 70 men in all who step to the plate
in an attempt to outguess the twirler. Thus
the umpire is called upon to pass Judgment on
three score and ten batters
It has been estimated that the umpire makes
four decisions on each man. In these mod
ern days of baseball "groove” pitchers are
mighty scarce. The pitcher is constantly try
ing to make the batter hit at bad balls on the
outside and inside, while the batter is trying
to make the twirler get them over. Conse
quently the game resolves Itself into a con
tinual battle of wits between the pitcher and
batter
Should the batter strike out on three balls.,
It would require three decisions. If the bat
ter works the pitcher for a pass to first on four
balls, it requires that many decisions. Often
tha count before the batter is finally retired or
reaches first is one strike and three balls,
two balls and two strikes, two strikes and
three balls, three balls and three strikes, four
nad two strikes or any of the many other
combinations that may arise. Thus It would
Ti&otr
seem that four
decisions on each
batter in connec
tion with balls
and strikes would
be a fair esti
mate.
With 70 men
coming to the
plate in a nine
inning game, and
each batter aver
aging four decis
ions. the umpire
is called upon to
render in the
neighborhood of
280 ball and
strike decisions.
XfX&V
/vra&&rA
a mntf are aecisions 10 render ou
balls in the immediate neighborhood of the
foul line during the ordinary game is a con
servative estimate. The decisions are often
a matter of inches, and many times change
the entire complexion of the game.
Of course, in a full nine inning game, 54
men must be retired before it is completed.
If the home team happens to have made more
runs in eight innings than the visitors in nine,
they will refuse the last hair of the ninth, mak
ing it necessary to retire only 51 men in or
der to complete the game. A decision is neces
sary on every one made, although frequently it
is evident to every one that the man is re
tired as on n fly ball or when a man takes a
healthy swing for the third strike. Such de
cisions are more a mere matter of form
than anything else. On the other hand,
theer are perhaps 20 plays that come up in a
game where the umpire rules the player is
safe on a very close decision.
A resume would show 2S0 decisions on
balls and strikes, 20 decisions on fair and foul
hits, 54 rulings on outs and somewhere neJtr
20 plays in which the runner gets the benefit
of the doubt, and is called safe, making 374
rulings an umpire is called upon to make
during a nine inning contest.
It is easy to sit in the grandstand or
bleachers, surrounded by a lot of friends
who see things just as you do, and umpire
the game, when you are not busy munching
peanuts. It is entirely different on the
ball field, however, where you are a stranger
In a strange land, with a hostile crowd ever
ready to criticise and 18 active ball players and
as many substitutes, together with two foxy
managers, trying their level best to outwit
you.
I happened to have an off day in Cleve
land last year, and I decided to journey out
to the ball park and call on my brother um
pires, "BuH” Perrlne and Bill Dtnneen had
been assigned to the game. After making
them a friendly visit I told them I Intended tak
ing a seat in the grandstand to look them over.
They laughingly assented and informed me that
they would give their best performance of the
season.
Bill Dlnneen, the former star pitcher,
worked the bases, and St seemed as if every
decision was close. Philadelphia was the
opposing team that afternoon, and despite
the closeness of many of the plays there was
scarcely a kick from any of the players.
Cleveland was losing, however, and the fans
made considerable fuss over several rulings
on the bases by Dinneen. From where I
was sitting In the rear part of the big grand
stand it really did look as if he had slipped
up on four plays. Observing that not a
kick was made, I was convinced that some
thing had happened in each instance which
the fans in the stand—myself among them
—had not noticed. 1 made note of the
plays with the intention of asking Dinneen
about them, just to satisfy my own curios
ity, and after the game I went to his dressing j
room. i
"Why did you call Collins safe at first. Bill. J
on that throw from Turner?" I asked.
"Why. there wasn't anything to that
play." said he. "The throw you will remem
ber was a trifle wild. It pulled Stovall some
distance off the bag. and when he lunged back i
his foot was about three inches shy of touch
ing first."
"Why did you call Baker safe at second?" ,
was my second inquiry. "From the stand I
it looked as If the ball beat him to the bag by 1
a yard.”
"The ball beat him all right," said Bill,
"but the force of the collision in touching i
Baker caused that young shortstop Knaupp j
to drop the ball. Had he held the throw,'
Baker would hare been an easy out.”
“Why did you call Birmingham out at
second when Coombs threw to catch him nap
napping? Looked as if Joe got back to the bag
before the ball reached Barry's bands.”
"He got back, but not to the bag." replied
Bill. "Barry had him blocked off. and 'Binny'
slid against Barry's shoe, not the bag. He
hasn't touched the base yet.”
"Just one more, Rill. Why was Jackson
out at third? It looked as if he easily beat
Catcher Lapp's throw In an attempt to keep
him from stealing."
"No question about his beating the throw,” ;
answered BUI. “He was safe a mile, if he
hadn't overslld the bag three or four inches and
allowed himself to be touched out before he
was able to regain it.”
On the four plays In which Dinneen was
absolutely correct he was forced to submit ]
to all kinds of censure, because the fans did
not know what had really happened.
There are any number of points that the
fans should taka into consideration when
they see the umpire declare a man out who
seems to them to be safe beyond a reasonable
doubt. Four of them I have already re
ferred to; failure to touch the bag, due to be
ing drawn off by a high, low or wild throw; j
dropping of the ball after having touched the
base runner, due to the force of the collision; i
sliding of the base runner into the foot of the
inflelder, instead of the bag and the overslid- j
ing of the bag after having reached it in
safety
The fallaway slide is another point that j
causes all kinds of trouble for the umpires.
This slide is used by most of the leading
base runners, and consists of going straight
for the bag until within a short distance of
it. then falling away, so to speak, by throwing
the body either towards the infield or outfield
as best suits the occasion, and hooking one
foot under the bag. This slide makes it very
hard for an inflelder to put the ball on the
runner, as it gives him only the sole of the
shoe, or as the players express it, only the
spikes to touch.
The baseball fans, however, may be consider
ed pretty fair creatures, and each year they are
getting more fair-minded. I have noticed a
vast improvement in each of the five years I
have umpired in the major leagues. I attrib
ute the improvement to the fact that the um
pires are being backed up in their decisions,
and the attitude of the sporting writers.
Mexicans’ Favorite Dishes
I
hai a. ■state. ft sort of stone
ikh the eon is crushed to
sad then ytted Into thin roun
«ad tosfted oft ft day griddle I
as foa ride dot
is «r«7 house ft
l; it is Oftly the
hr the voftua as they
thft tortillas la their
■
The lime in which the corn is
softened is said to account for the
very strong white teeth of the na
tives. Prljoles are. of course, beans,
and after being boiled a long time
with onions, chile and other savory
bits, are put into boiling lard for their
final flavor. Knives and forks are
not needed where a tortilla can be
folded in the middle and used as a
scoop for the beana These two ar
ticles of food form almost the entire
.diet ot the poor.
All food is very hot, from the chile
put in it, and one doesn't realize the
peculiar .flavor that cinnamon will
give to many dishes until he has
eaten it in everything, from coffee to
ice cream. While pulque, the ferment
ed juice of the maguey, our century
plant, is the national drink, if a peon
is very drunk it is probably due to
mescal or tequilla, two stronger
drinks made from the same maguey.
Often have I seen women cook an
entire meal over as little charcoal as
one hand, can grasp.
A Legal Mind.
“No use whispering soft things to
that girl. She's a law student”
“How does that affect her case?”
“Well, she’s prompt to detect the
Incompetent, the irrelevant and the
immaterial."
Toe Cautioua.
“How can you distrust your daugh
ter’s suitor when in this letter he pro
poses to lead her to the altar?"
“Well, in Its very nature, isn't that
a miss-leading proposition ?”
“No Chickens for Sale”
By DONALD ALLEN
(Copyright, 1911, by Associated Literary Press.)
The same train that carried Miss
Mildred Frayne up to her aunt's home
at Long Point to spend the summer
month also carried Mr. Winfield Ches
ter. They sat It different coaches,
nowever. and there was nc coinci
dence about it- Had they sat in the
same chair car he might have been
reading a magazine and she locking
out of the window.
A quarter of a mile below Aunt Tay
lor's house lived old Mrs. Ryder. She
was a widow and lived alone, and now
and then she bad a bad turn with
rheumatism. Miss Mildred had known
her tor several years, and It wasn't
two hours after her arrival that she
started out to see the old lady. She
round her in bed and sadly needing
nursing. .
“What you need.” sagely replied the
girl when she had heard the lamenta
tions,'- is chicken soup. It's better
than all the doctors. 1 know at least
t dozen people who'd have died but
for chicken soup. Chicken soup with
* little rice In It will make a well
woman of you in two days."
“Maybe It might help me." the pa
tient sighed.
“It will. It must. It cured me
when 1 had typhoid fever and the doc
tors had given me up. I can get the
■ice up at the house, but as for the
thicken—ler me see? We have none,
Started Off With the Chicken.
but one must be found somewhere,
i'll go back and telephone to some of
;te tanners around here Some ot
:nem will surely spare me a chicken."
"But it will be too much trouble."
Trouble? Don t you think I'll
willingly go to some trouble to save
your dear old life? Just lie quietly
all 1 come back. You can groan all
you wan: to, however. Our family
loctor says that groaning is a great
celp in curing any one "
Back to Aunt Taylor's the girl got
iown the telephone book and called
.ip one farmer after another and in
quired about the chicken market, it
was not encouraging. Some had chick
ens and some hadn’t, but those who ,
lad answered that nose was for sale.
The very last address proved hopeful,
l'he call was answered by a pleasant
voice saying:
“Why. yes. we have chickens here.”
"And will you sell one?"
“1—1 don't think we have ever sold
chickens."
"But this is a special case. A
chicken is wanted for an old lady who
iS 111."
"Then that alters the case, and 1
can promise you a fat pullet.”
"How much is it*”
"No charge.”
“But I'm willing to pay and want
to. If you can send it dewn to old
Mrs. Ryder’s I’ll give you 50 cents
tor it. Have the man bring change
“or a dollar.”
"As 1 said before, we have no chick
ens for sale, but—”
"And send him soon, please. Good
oy.“
That message bad gone to the
nouse of Mr. Chester’s mother, and he
it was who had answered it He be
Sieved the voice to be that of a girl.
He hadn't hung up the receiver before
Ue believed her to be good looking.
His mother hadn’t come Into the room
before be bad made up his mind to be
che bearer of that chicken.
~1 know there fs an old woman
named Ryder living about two miles
down the road," eaid the mother, "but
*be can’t have a telephone in ber cot
tage. It might have come rrom the
Taylor's, i’ll have James kill a
chicken and take it down there."
"But I’m going to take it myseir,”
said the young man.
"And why?”
"1 want to see the girl who owns
that voice”
"Nonsense! Mrs. Taylor is as old
as 1 am 1 don’t know of a girl within
five miles of here.”
Nevertheless, the young man insist
ed on going, and after the unhappy
pullet had had her neck wrung he
started off with the body dangling
from his right hand. Before his two
mile walk had been accomplished
dusk fallen and the moon had come
up. Thus, as he approached the cot
tage he saw a figure of a girl stand
ing in the highway, and beard a voice
calling:
“If you are the man with the chick
en make baste, please. Yes, you have
it, and I’m so glad and thankful. Yot^
see. I want to get the soup made right
away. Did you bring change for a
dollar?”
“Well—er—n-o-o,” was the reply.
"Why, you are not a farmer’s hired
man!” exclaimed the girl as she
looked at the chicken carrier for the
first time.
“No, but I have brought the fowl.
Let me carry it in for you, please.
It’s bleeding yet My name is Ches
ter.”
“But really—”
"And do yjou know how to pick and
dress a chicken?”
“My stars, but I never thought ol
that, and Mrs. Ryder’s sound asleep!
1 am Miss Frayne, Mrs. Taylor's
niece. I’ll have to run up and ask
auntie."
remaps i can neip you, said me
young man, trying hard to look wise.
"To get the feathers off easily you
have to scald the bird. I believe. Can
you get some hot water?"
"I’ve got a big kettle on the stove,
and here’s a dishpan. But you mustn’t
help. Tou must take your pay and go.
That is—that—"
“That is. I'm going to help with the
chicken. You might spoil it for soup,
you know. We lay it in the dish. Now
we pour on boiling water. Now we
turn it over. After five minutes the
feathers will be loosened/
"But you are a gentleman—and you
are a young man—and you must live
in the city—and how do you know?
If 1 don’t know how to dress a chick
en why should you?”
“And now we take it outdoors,” con
tinued the young man with a smile,
"and don't you see how easily the
feathers come off? And while I'm
holding the body over the flame of the
stove for a minute you will please get
me the butcher knife. The chicken
must be drawn and ‘hen cut up."
“But why do you help?" asked Miss
Mildred.
"Because 1 feel sorry for Mrs. Ry
der, and because you don't know how
to dress a chicken. Now the knife.
Now to put the pieces in cold water
and rinse them thoroughly. One piece
will do for all the soup she’ll want to
night- Only about a quart of water.
Now put in the rice and pepper and
salt and boil for 30 minutes, and there
you are. I must go now. but I'll drop
in in the morning to see how the pa
tient gets along.”
“But who—who asked you to?"
“Oh. I furnished the chicken, didn't
I?" he answered with a laugh. "Good
night.”
Forty minutes later, when old Mrs.
Ryder was taking her chicken soup
and telling how good it was. she no
ticed a serious look on Miss Mildred's
face and asked what had happened.
“Why, a young man brought this
chicken."
"Bless his kind heart!”
"And he dressed it for you.”
“Bless him some more!”
“And he bossed me around terribly.”
“He did. eh?"
“And 1 know just how things are
going to turn out. He’ll come here
again tomorrow, and then I shall have
to ask him to auntie's house, and
she'll like him, and he’ll like me.
and I—1—. Well. It won’t be two
months before he’ll say he loves me
and must have me. and—and—”
"And you’ll be engaged and then
married and be one of the happiest
brides in the land. What a fine chick
en! What beautiful soup! Why. that
young man is worth his weight in
gold!”
Belle of the Beach.
”i got my hand stung by a sea net
tle." said the young girL
'Terrible; too bad.”
“It wasn't so bad. Four young men
Insisted on holding my hand all at
once.”
Not Much So.
“I would really like to test your en
durance with a temperature above the
hundred mark."
"Well, that's cool!"
Poker Not American Game
Judge Declares Pastime Ceases to Be
Sport When Host Furnishes
Lunch, Cigars and Money.
A California Judge has ruled that
poker is not an American game.
To any man who has ever furnished
the lights and the lunch, the table and
the chairs, liquids and cigars for a
gung of friends, and right on top of all
that hospitality, has been forced to
provide all the money also, poker
ceases to be a game and becomes a
slaughter.
When guests will eat your sand
wiches and raise you out of hands
that you have won. isn’t the California
Judge right? Poker isn’t a game; It’s
a misdemeanor. When men will smoke
your good cigars and remind you that
you were ten cents shy on a pot 20
minutes ago, poker Isn’t a game; It's
grand larceny.
And on top of all this, when your
guests depart, their pockets bulging
with your money. Instead of thanking
you for your hospitality, they chuckle
among themselves and remark:
“Let us know when you’re going to
do this again, will you? It’s the soft
est thing we know of."
Then you quietly put out the cat for
fear she’ll suffocate in the tobacco
smoke downstairs If she’s left In
doors. turn out the lights and crawl
into bed. wondering what fool ways
men had of getting rid of their money
before poker was Invented._Detroit
Free Press.
Once Was Enough.
Dr. Topham la a surgeon at the Cen
tral Emergency hospital. It wasn’t hta
fault, but when the reported wrote hla
story of the accident he wrote too
much and the copy reader* had to cut
It down to space requirements at the
offlce. So that Is how it happened that
this appeared: "The man was treated
by Dr. Topham and the body • „I22
to the morgue.” San Francisco Chro^
