James T. Ryan was at that time and is now a good ball player. His home was in Clinton, Mass., and he came to us from the Holy Cross College, in which team he had been playing. He was a mere boy when he first signed with Chicago but promised well, and though for a time he did not come up to the expectations that I had formed regarding him, I kept him on the team. His greatest fault was that he would not run out on a base hit, but on the contrary would walk to his base. This I would not stand, and so I fined him repeatedly, but these fines did little good, especially after the advent of James C. Hart, who refused to endorse them and supported Ryan in his insubordination, in regard to which I shall have more to say later. Ryan was a good hitter, not an overly fast base runner, and a good judge of a fly ball. He was also an accurate left-handed thrower. He could never cover as much ground as people thought, and though he ranked with Lange as a batsman, he was not in the same class with that player either as a base runner or a fielder, the Californian in the two latter respects being able to race all around him. Ryan at the present writing is still a member of the Chicago team, and, though by no means as good a player as he was some years ago, is quite likely to remain there as long as Mr. Hart continues at the head of affairs. William A. Sunday, or "Billy," as we all called him in those days, was born in Ames, Iowa, and was as good a boy as ever lived, being conscientious in a marked degree, hardworking, good-natured and obliging. At the time that I first ran across him he was driving an undertaker's wagon in Marshalltown, though it was not because of his skill in handling the ribbons that he attracted my attention. There was a fireman's tournament going on at the time of my visit, in which Sunday was taking part, and it was the speed that he showed on that occasion that opened my eyes to his possibilities in the base-ball playing line. He was, in my opinion, the fastest man afterwards on his feet in the profession, and one who could run the bases like a scared deer. The first thirteen times that he went to the bat after he began playing with the Chicagos he was struck out, but I was confident that he would yet make a ball player and hung onto him, cheering him up as best I could whenever he became discouraged. As a baserunner his judgment was at times faulty and he was altogether too daring, taking extreme chances because of the tremendous turn of speed that he possessed. He was a good fielder and a strong and accurate thrower, his weak point lying in his batting. The ball that he threw was a hard one to catch, however, it landing in the hands like a chunk of lead. Since "Bill" retired from the diamond he has become noted as an evangelist, and I am told by those who should know that he is a brilliant speaker and a great success in that line. May luck be with him wherever lie may go!