OUR BOYS & GIRLS.
THE LEFT FIELD OF THE LIN*
COLN NINE. (By C.F.H.)
‘ Pay his fare in, please, Mister !’ The speaker was a ragged little urchin, with a bright, jolly face, who stood at the entrance of a base-ball ground. By his side sat a great black poodle. The dog looked up at me with such a solemn and woe-begone expression that I laughed outright, whereupon the boy took courage and repeated his request : Pass him in, mister ; it s only a dime. We’re under age.’ ‘ Do you mean the dog ?’ I asked. ‘Yes,’ was the reply. ‘He’s a baseballer. He hasn t missed a game this season ; and,’ the boy continued earnestly, ‘ I wouldn’t have him miss one, either. But, you see, mother’s rent’s due to-day, so we’ve no extra cash, —have we. Major ?’ And the big poodle wagged its tail and showed its teeth in a broad dog-laugh. It certainly was the most remarkablelooking poodle I had ever seen. It was a pure black, with the back part of its body shaved to the skin, except where, on the top, the hair had been left in the shape of an anchor. A tuft only was left at the end of the tail ; the feet had bracelets or anklets of hair, and as the dog’s head and chest were not clipped it looked like a lion from the front ; but from the side it was the most comical-looking object you can possibly imagine, while in looking down upon it the symbol of hope was always presented ; and this anchor, as I learned afterward, was emblematical of the Major’s chief characteristic.
* What're the chances, Mister ?’asked his owner, after I had examined the dog for a few moments.
* I think they are good,’ I replied. * But why do you wish him to go in ? Does he belong to either nine?’ 1 No, he doesn’t,’ responded my new acquaintance ; ‘ but,’ confidentially, ‘ he’s left-field in the “ Lincolns,” and if you knew how badly he’d feel to miss this game, you’d pass him in.’ ‘ Can he play ?’ I inquired in an incredulous tone.
‘ Can he play ?’ the youngster retorted indignantly, adding, ‘ Can you, Major?’ as he turned to the dog. The animal showed all its teeth, and cast up its solemn eyes, saying * yes,’ as plainly as possible. ‘ You just come with me a minute, Mister,’ continued the small speaker; and leading me around the corner, away from the crowd, he drew a well-worn base-ball from a dilapidated poeket, and tossed it to me. * He does best at a fly-catcli,’ he remarked ; ‘ and when I say he’s left-field of our nine, it’s as much as to say he isn't a muffer.’ Carious to see what the dog would do, I tossed the ball at him, and it landed fair in his capacious mouth, and was held there. ‘ That’s not what he wants, Mister,’ said Major’s young master. * Throw it up high just as high as you can.’ I drew back my arm and looked up ; and on the instant Major became like another dog. His ears stood up, his eyes flashed, and. the hairy emblem of hope seemed to wriggle like a snake as he danced backward, barking in loud, jubilant tone. This time I threw the hall as high as I could. Up it went, so high, in fact, that I doubt if I could have caught it myself, as it is some years since I severed my connection with a base-ball nine. But the moment it left my hand, Major seemed to know where it was going to fall; he watched it for a second, then ran back about twenty feet, and as it turned in the air, he was directly under it. Down it came, right over the dog, which stood with legs braced apart, and tail wagging slowly ; then a red mouth opened, a row of white teeth glistened, and Major had caught the ball. A few seconds later he delivered it to me, with a wag of his tail that said plainly, ‘ You re, out, Mister.’ So good a player certainly deserted to see
the game, and we were soon within the high fence. At once Major took up his stand behind the scorer, and watched the game with the greatest gravity; occasionally, when a heavy strike was made, running out, as if to see who caught it, and uttering a single bark of satisfaction. Everybody seemed to know him, and had a friendly pat or word for him/; in fact, it was evident that the dog was one of the base-hall fraternity.
When the game broke up, Major’s master invited me to be present at a match game of the ‘ Lincolns ’ on the ensuing Saturday. 'The rival nines were made up of hoys under thirteen, black and white, and Major. As I reached the ground it was his inning, and his master, who claimed the privilege of striking for him, was at the bat. The dog was right behind with one paw in advance, and his eyes on the striker. In came the twisters, and Major made several false starts; but, finally, as the ball went scudding from the bat, off he rushed for first base, his ears flapping, his plumelike tail out straight behind. But the short-stop was too nimble for the dog, and just before he reached the base, the ball arrived there, and he came slowly back, his tail hanging low, and a very mournful expression in his great big eyes. ‘Maje’s out—-side out !’ cried the hoys, and immediately conceiving a method by which he could retrieve this disaster, the dog seemed to regain his spirits, dashed into the field, and was speedily in his position as leftfielder, before any of the others had reached their places. In the preliminary ‘ pass around ’ that preceded the play, Major "was nob let out, and I saw that the halls that were thrown at him directly were quite as swift as those delivered from base to base ; and in justice to him, I never saw him ‘ muff.’ When a ball was thrown at him, he settled hack, and dropped his great lower jaw, into which the projectile seemed to fit; then, with tail wagging, he would hasten to carry the ball to the next player. He was equally proficient with low balls, either catching them in his mouth or stopping them with his broad chest, and in fielding he could not be outdone. When he caught a ball, he carried it at full speed to the nearest thrower, and not a few players were put out by his quick motions and activity. But perhaps the strangfest part of it all was the delight and pleasure that Major took in the game. He showed it in every motion, speaking with his tail as well as his eyes and mouth, and I doubt if any of the boys had a greater interest in the sport. Major’s accomplishments were not confined to base-ball playing. He could perform numerous tricks, and understood, or pretended to understand, everything that was said ; and if the gentleman in London who is so industriously endeavoring to teach dogs to talk, could only borrow Major, he might achieve success.
Major would take a ten-cent piece to the baker, and bring home a loaf of bread, and no such tricks as giviDg him the wrong change or a bogus loaf could be successfully played upon him by the neighbors. I was told that one day when given a counterfeit quarter, Major gravely bit it, smiled a contemptuous smile, and wagged his head in disapproval; but this I will not vouch for. He did so many wonderful things, however, that one would hardly he surprised at any feat attributed to him.
‘ How came you to clip him in such a fashion ?’ I asked of his master.
‘ Because he’s so hopeful,’ answered my new acquaintance. * When we first came to town we were very, very poor. We’re not so very rich now,’ he added, confidentially ; * but in those times we had only a dollar or two at a time for all of us, and mother used to sit and cry, aud you’d have thought there wasn’t any hope for us. But Major was never discouraged. Whenever mother began to cry, he’d walk up to her and laugh, and show his teeth, and then she’d almost always look up and put her arms around his neck and say, “ Maje, you’re trying to cheer us up ; you’re doing your best—l know you are ; ’ and it seemed to make us all hopeful like. And he hadn’t anything to be cheerful for, either. One day we were at our worst; there wasn’t anything in the house ; and cold. You wouldn’t believe how cold it was, Mister. Maje had run out, and mother was in the big chair, and I was ready.to cry, because she looked so solemn, when there came a scratching at the door—and what d’ye s’pose ? I pulled it open, and there was Maje with 'a basket in his mouth aud a bundle tied on his back, and I never saw him more cheerful and hopeful' in my life’ Well, mother broke out crying, just at the time she ought to ha’ been laughing, and she put her arms round Maje’s neck. There was .neat and cake and ever so much more in the basket, and it kept us from starving. ’ ‘ Where did he get them ? Why, that’s the curious part of it. We never could find it out from Maje ; but there was a paper in the basket saying: “From a Friend.” But how Maje came to be acquainted with him just at that time, I don’t see—do you, Mister ?’
It often happens that dogs of no special breed, poor outcasts of the canine family, show the most remarkable characteristics.
A fire company in New York had for years a dog that was as faithful in its duties as any of the men, and on several occasions it called the attention of patrolmen to places where fires were smouldering. A certain drayman in the same city had a dog that spent its time upon the horse's hack, and seemed to delight in exhibiting its equestrian skill. I have often seen the dray going down Broadway, the dog on the horse’s back, but keeping his place with difficulty when the horse moved rapidly.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZMAIL18861105.2.9
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Mail, Issue 766, 5 November 1886, Page 5
Word Count
1,732OUR BOYS & GIRLS. New Zealand Mail, Issue 766, 5 November 1886, Page 5
Using This Item
No known copyright (New Zealand)
To the best of the National Library of New Zealand’s knowledge, under New Zealand law, there is no copyright in this item in New Zealand.
You can copy this item, share it, and post it on a blog or website. It can be modified, remixed and built upon. It can be used commercially. If reproducing this item, it is helpful to include the source.
For further information please refer to the Copyright guide.