Thither went, also, occasionally, a favored few of the townspeople who were very much waked up now over the work of the Nine that was to be the champion of the region, if not of the State. To such an extent had the men, women and children of Catalpa been aroused by what was going on, that a stranger coming into town and hearing the gossip around the street corners and in the more comfortable stores and shops, would have supposed that Catalpa was devoting itself exclusively to the practice of base ball. It was the dead of winter, and, except a few teams slowly pulling in from the outlying country, with a few farmers in quest of the necessaries of life from the town stores, very little life was visible about the place. Occasionally, a fierce snow storm would sweep over the town, blocking the streets, and cutting it off from all communication except by railroad. The main street would be desolate, and the bridge show only a solitary passenger whom dire necessity brought out in such a cold and wintry gale as the "blizzard" proved to be. At such times, however, up in the big Fair Building whose yawning cracks let in the driving snow, and on whose roof the shingles rattled merrily, a party of hardy and stalwart young fellows was sure to be found practicing arduously for the work of the coming summer. Around the hot stoves in the lounging-places, down town, grown men were talking of base ball, and small boys, hanging eagerly on the outer edges of the groups, drank in with silent intelligence the words of wisdom that dropped from the lips of their elders. For a time, at least, it looked as if nothing would ever be done in that town but to prepare for the base ball season of the next year. But the winter wore away and the regular industries of the Stone River Valley began to revive. The ice went out of the river with the usual rush, and people wondered, as they always had, if the bridge would stand the pressure of the ice-flood. The roads were once more channels of bottomless mud, and eastern people, whom business errands brought out into that part of the country, sourly berated a country "in which everything depended on the state of the roads." The blue jays were calling from the tree-tops and the meadow larks were whistling along the fences. The prairies were gradually growing green, and the low places and hollows where the snow lately lingered became shining pools reflecting the tender blue of the spring sky. One day, Bill Van Orman, after carefully going over the Agricultural Fair Grounds in company with Al Heaton, reported that it was about time to begin practicing out of doors. For months, the members of the new nine had been wishing for the day to come when they could get out into the open air and put some of their indoor practice into actual work. So, with the assistance of a few of their associates who were not members of the new club, they organized two nines and went to work in earnest.