O ye hooting witches of the midnight orgy and screeching jagaurs squirming in the fatal coils of Columbian pythons, never was there such a scream and succession of fearful cries emitted as arose from the prostrate player rolling over and over before the multitude in an agonized struggle to right himself. The approaching bay of a hungry winter wolf pack in full tongue is unequalled as a shudder producer and fearful indeed, our ancestors say, were the howls of redskins bent on massacre. The field and stand had never listened to these, but they heard Spider O’Toole and were transfixed with thrills in speechless anticipation. Wild eyed and sweating they found him, the grimey ball still in his grasp and two water snakes wound about his wrist and forearm with ugly heads and forked tongues shooting this way and that as their bodies writhed and rubbed his bare skin in efforts to free themselves from his powerful clutch, poor O’Toole dancing in near convulsions, meanwhile beseeching the rescuers to free him from the loathsome girdle. It would appear that the reptiles had come out of the water, as they sometimes do, and after the manner of their kind, curled up together and gone to sleep in one of the swampy depressions close to the fence bounding extreme centre field, and this was the handful the fingers of Claudius O’Toole closed on. The shortstop and fielder who first reached their horrified leader state _sub rosa_ that he was muttering pieces of prayers, swearing on the bones of King Kelly, and vowing by Ptolemy’s ancient mummies that he would nail those flying runners at the plate. In his wanderings he was heard to mention “Log over the Chaudiere”, “See their flat, evil heads” and “St. Patrick to the rescue”. [Illustration: THOMAS J. NELSON, City Passenger and Ticket Agent, G.T.R., Brantford, Ont.; former President, Brantford Baseball Club.] When the commotion subsided and the contented Peterboroughese were discussing the absorbing topic on their way home, Mister O’Toole disrobed in the dressing room and while introducing his friends Gerald O’Flaherty and Jimmie Goodall to Mr. Nelson, declared by all the hairy chested “oorang ootangs” in the Zambesi Country that he would in future manage his team from the bench when they clashed with the Bluejays at home. Therefore you may not view Spider O’Toole in action again beside the winding Otonabee River, but sooner or later, he will emulate a spike-heeled river driver with peavie in hand, riding a pine log over the Chaudiere in order that a pound of flesh may be delivered to Silent Tom Nelson, President of the Brantford Green Sox. [Illustration: VIEW OF THE FIRST AMERICAN RAILWAY TRAIN] A HAPHAZARD CHRONOLOGY 1804--Richard Trevithick experimented in England with the earliest type of steam locomotive and it is said that his son F. H. Trevithick, was the first locomotive superintendent of the Grand Trunk Railway.