He really
came to lose his sadness over his own misfortune
in pondering on the wretched play of the Madden's
Hill baseball club. He had all a boy's
pride in the locality where he lived. And when
the Bogg's Farm team administered a crushing
defeat to Madden's Hill, Willie grew desperate.
Monday he met Lane Griffith, the captain of
the Madden's Hill nine.
``Hello, Daddy,'' said Lane. He was a big,
aggressive boy, and in a way had a fondness for
Willie.
``Lane, you got an orful trimmin' up on the
Boggs. What 'd you wanter let them country jakes
beat you for?''
``Aw, Daddy, they was lucky. Umpire had hay-
seed in his eyes! Robbed us! He couldn't see
straight. We'll trim them down here Saturday.''
``No, you won't--not without team work. Lane,
you've got to have a manager.''
``Durn it! Where 're we goin' to get one?''
Lane blurted out.
``You can sign me. I can't play, but I know the
game. Let me coach the boys.''
The idea seemed to strike Capt. Griffith
favorably. He prevailed upon all the boys living on
Madden's Hill to come out for practice after
school. Then he presented them to the managing
coach. The boys were inclined to poke fun at
Daddy Howarth and ridicule him; but the idea
was a novel one and they were in such a state of
subjection from many beatings that they welcomed
any change.
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