face, one fancied, might have belonged to a leader of martyrs.
She came to him, and sat upon the arm of his chair, encircling his neck, and patting his cheek.
"Now, father, dear," she laughed coaxingly, "I hope you're not going to scold. I know you didn't want me to go to the ball game, but I was just dying to go, and Benton invited me, and—"
"He came round here, and cajoled me into consenting, against my will. He is a young man with a most persuasive and flattering tongue."
"I'll not dispute you," she said, thinking of those parting words at the door. "He needed a persuasive tongue to win you over, you are so dreadfully set against baseball. You can't seem to realize that the game itself is really harmless and clean, and two-thirds of the people of this town are crazy over it. They'll be crazier still after to-day, for we beat Bancroft—shut 'em out without a single tally, gave 'em nine beautiful goose eggs. What do you think of that, father?"
He looked a bit puzzled. "What have goose eggs to do with baseball, my dear?"
"Oh," she laughed, "I mean to say that we handed them a beautiful coat of whitewash, and we bingled out a couple of merit marks for our-
