Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 6, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 October 1883 — THE NATIONAL GAME. [ARTICLE]

THE NATIONAL GAME.

A Story Which Proves It's a Fable by the Introduction of a City Editor Ignorant of Base-Hall. [Brooklyn Eagle.' “We are having remarkably cool weather fox thistime of year,” saida slim little gentleman, entering the city editor’s office, and settling himself in a chair. “Yeh,” said the city editor, diving into a pile of manuscript before him and ringing vigorously for the office boy. “I never remember to have seen such very cool weather in summer before,” said the slim . party, curling one length ly limb about the other, and settling himself more comfortably in his chair. “No,” ejaculated the city editor, giving another tug at the bell, and once more getting down to work. “I have lived in this part of the world all my life,” said the youth. “But this weather beats me. Now, four summers ago you will remember. I believe it was four summers ago. Yes, it’ was four summers ago. Do you remember that summer?” “N 9 said the city editor, grabbing up a quantity of f resh copy ami'hastily running over it. “Well, that summer I remember it was hot enough—” “What is the nature of your business with me, anyway ?” cried the city editor, throwing down a great bundle of manifold copy and glaring at his visitor. “Can’t you see that this is the busiest time of the day with us? The paper will go to press in twenty minutes, and you must ex —” “Pretty lively work bringing out a paper, isn’t it?” said the young man, pulling out a cigarette and proceeding to leisurely light up. “My grandfather was Tn the newspaper business, and I came near going into—” “Young man, I will give you just five minutes to come to the point,” said the city editor.

“Oh, yes, of course, ejaculated the youth, puffing a wreath of smoke toward the tufted latin ceiling. “I just dropped in to inquire how the baseball match came out yesterday afternoon. Speaking of base-ball reminds me of a little story. I suppose you are pretty well up in the history of baseball?” . “The base-ball editor is out,” cried The city editor. “Why don’t your paper take more interest in base-ball?” asked the youth. “Now I think if you would cut down, say the religious news, and give us . more base-ball you would make a homerun for your paper. I suppose, of course, you have heard of our club?” “Never,” said the city editor. “I tell you the base-ball man is—” “Never heard of our club! Why, it is the crack nine among the amateurs,” f|.id the youth, pulling out a slip of pa“per. “Just throw' yOur optics over the s»ore. That’s a sample of the way we—” “Don’t know a thing about scores,” shouted the city editor. “Come, I think it’s about time you skipped. Call again when the base-ball man is in. I tell youi I am terribly busy.” “You don’t think you could tell me anything about that yesterday, then!” “No! no! no!" cried the city editor, jumping to his feet, “look over yesterday’s paper.” “But it isn’t in your paper,” said the youth, setting himself more comfortably in his chair. “Now, there is where you get left. If you’d only throw' out, say an editorial or two, and make more room for base —” But at this n-.oment the youth had a pressing engagement in the lower office, and vanished through the door, still grasping the score of his last match in his fist.