I WAS awfully busy during March. Just as soon as there was a breath of Spring in the air, and the kids were starting in with stilts and marbles, we boys got to figuring on our base-ball team. The team had been a dead one the year before, and we couldn't quite make up our minds whether to disband and quit for keeps, or to make another try for it. We had been whipped by every club in the neighborhood last year, and had scrapped among ourselves until I actually believe that every fellow was glad when he struck out, just to spite the team. It was plain to be seen that we'd got to do something different, or else quit entirely. Some of us were for quitting, and some others for beginning early and doing a lot of practice work and trying to get into shape to do some good playing by the time the season opened. I was with the latter bunch; I do hate to give up that I'm beaten!
We were talking it over one day and scrapping, as usual, when one of the boys came out with an
