Jack Winters' Baseball Team; Or, The Rivals of the DiamondOverton, Mark
General
Jack Winters' Baseball Team; Or, The Rivals of the Diamond
Overton, Mark
Baseball -- Juvenile fiction
"I want to see you about a number of things," he had told Jack; "not so
much in connection with the game we're scheduled to play, as other
affairs looking to the ambitious programme we've mapped out for Chester
boys the rest of the summer, in the fall, and even up to winter. For one
thing, I'd like to give you a few pointers about the fellows in our
crowd, so that you can size them up for the football squad later on."
That caught Jack in a weak spot.
"I'll go you there, Toby," he hastened to say, "because I've been trying
to figure things out along those lines myself. When you're placing men
on an eleven, you ought to know their every strong and weak point; and
I'm too new a hand here in Chester to be on to such things. So I'll be
glad to have you give me points."
Accordingly, he knocked at the Hopkins' door soon after seven that
evening, and was immediately admitted by Toby himself. The Hopkins
family consisted of Toby's father and mother, and an older son just then
away on a trip to the West, as he was attending college, and had been
promised this treat if he passed with honors. There was also a very
small girl, named Tessie, who naturally was the pet of the household,
and in a way to be spoiled by the adoration of her two brothers.
Toby had a den of his own in the upper part of the rambling house. Here
just as most boys love to do, he had the walls fairly covered with the
burgees of various colleges, all sorts of mementos collected during his
outdoor experiences, curios that in Toby's eyes were precious because
many of them bore an intimate relation with some little adventure or
jolly outing in which he had taken part.
There were also football togs, baseball contraptions, fishing
paraphernalia in unlimited abundance, as well as striking illustrations
covering the field of sport as seen through the eyes of youth.
But one good thing about it all, you would look in vain for the
slightest trace of any vulgar picture; Toby had no love for such
so-called sport as prize fighting or any kindred subject.
Here in this adorable den, reflecting the loves of a genuine boy with
red blood in his veins, there often assembled a number of lads who
always felt very much at home amidst such surroundings; but Toby would
allow of no rough-house scuffling in his quarters, to annoy his mother,
and get on her nerves. When the fellows dropped in to have a chat and
lounge in his easy chairs amidst such exhilarating surroundings they
were expected to behave themselves.
Joel had the big lamp lighted. It threw a fine mellow glow over the
walls of the den and showed up the myriad of objects with which they
were covered. Somehow, Joel always liked his room much better when that
royal lamp was burning, for even the most remote corner, seldom pierced
by the intercepted rays of the sun, loomed up under its ardent rays.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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