Perhaps the first thing that boys in their games ever did with a ball was to hit other boys with it. At any rate, their games in my time have been made of such simple elements as the effort to—1. Hit somebody. 2. Hit a target. 3. Hit another ball, as in marbles. 4. Catch the ball. 5. Bat the ball. 6. Run to a goal, or out of reach of the ball, before being hit or "crossed out." And, of course—7. Prevent the enemy from accomplishing any of these things.
Ball-games are products, and pretty good illustrations, of the process of evolution. Hence it is fitting to proceed in their discussion as Nature proceeds in evolution—from the simple to the complex. We can beat Haeckel at this. He can not bridge the gap between life and not-life, but we can go back of all ball-games to a primordial ball-playing which is not a game at all. When a number of boys engage in indiscriminately hitting one another, they often enjoy the excitement, but they are not playing a game. They begin to play a game when they introduce forfeits, or rewards, or both.
The commonest forfeit is that of the right to play—that is, the player who misses is "out" for the remainder of the game or inning. The moment this was introduced, what was called "sockball" became a real game. There were no bases, no bats, no anything except a lot of boys, and a ball with which they were trying to hit one another. But if one threw and missed, or his ball was caught, he was out. When all but one, or an agreed number, were out, the game was ended, and a new one was started. Of course, the last boy could not be put out, for there were no players for him to throw at and miss. He won the game, and his reward was the first throw on the new game.
The game of "hole-ball," or "wibble-wobble," retained these features, and added a hole in the ground large enough to nicely hold the ball. The reward of the winner was not the first throw, but the privilege of placing the ball in the hole and naming the first thrower, who had the advantage of a throw before the players had time to scatter—for, of course, they all stood close by the hole until the name was called, each thinking it might be his own. It required considerable alertness to be ready to instantly do either one of two things—seize and throw the ball, or run away. Faculties were called into exercise which, if duly cultivated, help to make success all through life. They are the faculties needed by the general, who may at any moment be forced to fight or forced to retreat. As the game proceeds, the players come back to the hole every time one goes out on a miss or a catch, and the one who is missed or catches the ball puts it in the hole and names the next thrower, and so on until all but one are out. The hole serves constantly as a base of operations, and the player who at
