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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (March 3, 1912)
3 TITE SUNDAY OEEGOXIAN, PORTLAND , MARC1T 3, 1912, sit fmmwscm's STORIES' or the BIG LEAGUERS CHRI iv I I i ' - "ii ff if YT UMPIRES and erf CimJNG Star Pttcher WHK.. i;.an; eer swirling througR t: vwt Ui jftr on the f.nat trip. Ih rl'i plaved thre games in l'!th tr ln ntn( at that timf on. v a pw.-tbt'itv more or lea rmr Tc I'ira'ea altil had a r.nnv. tr1 trv wr fizMtr bard fee r'v gam, mere p:jfr.ff on their r. m Te fi-n contr'l rf t s .St?irday aftrnxin b-?r a ii!r a ther ris wss on i r-xr d that ra. kd I" sls-anti r.ri'iji wn ! uf round rrrh K.e ' ! T-- tron intl to S--e t b f'tr-.rs wtn hrrmiii t'y er the Pirate an ! t itianta beaten h. ami thv t" 'he i.an'4 nJ were rM. kirc tne'r i.ea.l i.p ab-.ve tlie other Hubs In the ra r. ! a'wn think of tie horo sv-w whrn I p av in Pitts burg. r ti-y have tre diamond horse aiiMi of bf rj thfr, -u know. N. I m wrnnc-it a at the, M.-tmpohtan Opera Moi t.ny have the diarnon.l horae iio' but it uir ht t be at the horse ew. Anrwir. the illimnnd torf shoe e." hoe wa ili'ins h iMne.s at Korbee field that Saturday af'frnoon. This stry la rina t be about um fit rr. hut the reader who ha nvrf rn the Frhe Field fIka roust t t' r atmosphere before I let the yarn .rito the hlo-k. n- e. on a bright, sunny day tr-ere. 1 ir if'M fir after fly hrraujo the el In l of Sofa e ei on t ne d amonds blinded me. A?wv nrt I rir tnokf.l g:ascs. "Josh " I'rvore ta io a? rat J that he will l'-- ao.-lal raM mhn he goes to pittuburg that re gets ht f tn-rernai.s man leu red be -for 1 will r- on the fillet. Anl th lady who tratd him on day pollh-,i hi dtrit t.i aui'h an ultimate 'ost nea that th pun flawed on thrm. and he dropped two flta in left field. "1,00k hre. Joh." warned .V'Ura aft.r t'if eame. "I hire on to piay b.l! nd not leai) rotilMons. Ut oine pum- e s:on nd rub It on Toir ftna-rr naits rtd Mit out tl. J i (in wr niani ; ir" VV"1. tUm rrowd 1 wore aftr om rire Ihwn t!ie reilrnta of th b!.arh r. The uamc un that Si'iray v.Mkft out lri a plt.-hers batfl" tw,.n M.irtv Tf. Hi expensive r--,. p.-nt ,lf t r it ball, an I 'Hub. t;ir-T-'.i-d. t' -at Uft -harder. M!f of ' t ' ; irt.-Sure'" t ad airrady r ! white r'-v fipplau'liinr whn. i;.n about the foirtb or fifth fnntnir. r .t t'iark aot nt far third bai i out The 9' -or wa notlilni? f.r either afd- a rt. and of atich a !(-at nature wnn th -on teat that --in . Pkely trt dTi-le It. tl in ' WuwTier. th p"rr!f.i, and the r . f Ii t birc. t a. at the hat. He r"h:t a lore f'v t- .M irray tn rlehl ! .ip J- n michf It and threw th "rka and tr;e b!l arrtved 1 -.1 'r J:i u" aneoitf i v There was a !('. n ttirrr'e of p'.ter. end a nnll 1 n. 1 f dust blew aw -y from iiome p..;te era oi;f' law !o,1 Mr. Frennan, tha 11 ' ?ir. jerkfne liis thurrb over Ms m . -i)dr wr h. a coni ni venens that f"rehade arciment. dark Jiimped up 1 t-t ..re?.-hf,i hi hana fo-ir feet apart, f'-r he rn!f n conelunisTneas e r-i "one Is cald aeiinat him "fe that mMfV" ha ahonted In r-ru nan's ear. nhowtrc him the four ft niArctri aga n with hla hand. Tiere vii a roar from the diamond t.or .o t t. tf If eou'd have been ranr.ed a: d pit on a ronoe-aph. -on!d have nsde nore hla fortune bv.tue It eetjld he been turned en to aco:n-ar-y moT-e r ,,re of non and other I'd b -"A t rm rea:ittr. )'." k t .'trrriun. "l knew a pi p- '-i that looks honest rornrared to yi. Br.? -j Tmt:.rr trust me wafh to a e .-n 1 story worker. Brennan was d;!ne off the p ate nd paid no aTtni.n t Mm. tut Clarke continued to nap and ba-k at the urlplre as he hr-M.ed Filmself off. referrnc wltn frt.ir.j to Mr. lirennan'a l-nmetfiata faml'y. anJ a!nc Int his talk a f ketch of the i;:-p -e a anoetors. for Clarke Is a err at i.iier of the rC'tsn auiriaca aa f-i t nmnlres Mr Clarke. td !'rrr.rn. turn In at iat. "you were out. No teat It to f fce benrb before you It a- it to t?ie C' cHTieose."- "a-ke went rr imb'inc - ;! a' I the afternoon was after Brerr-: f r the rte.-ts'-Ti. his wrati Inrreasr b.- aue te rtretes f'nally lost t?i :ir.e. fusl thy would not bsve w( n it hai hey a;o that drrision. And t.-.e crowd was roaring t firennan. too. trouch rnt te remsfner of the contest. ak Ine hint pointed qje t Ions about !.; habits and mh.t was his reeu'ar b-.s:- I; riv a rr n w'ti nerre to n;-kc a V is "1 ke t- it. or tftal .co .. 1 hw " 1 - f 1 e.ther way be'ajse il waa l-'-se and tj make jr. as r.e ee l:. a-!.-i happnet In t.'s particular tae I -e srai'st t'. ho-ne team. Are rwadaaaeatatly llaiet. lt-v ti-r.es tae I. In t.: exalte-rent i-tnent. protected aeninat tre 4-c!,oB of an unVre. ! fund.m.ol. h nrn..lr.ph t brouKut her .ily I know f at the nmr.re. are r..e.t '" . PrformBO . nd sr. .I.Kr.c f-tr t-i.t a. ail la,l "-On within the kn of thou- nd "mrt'.-nr. In thetr frnr: t.-i cn--utrar. :-rtr mini on t:ir decision. :ly ur they f.'ricrt wriat ciuh. are :'vtr.r an I wMrh Is the r.ome mm. Th f'Kurt of t-. ram. d"pn! on th nrrnir. for hl hr..w:y ritlinot questioned. If there Is a breath f upu:on t(i:r! a man. he is im t!ttlir let no, benuit constant rep etition of such a chArs: would result n bAftcbMl coins the way ttt kon. racing n1 pom ot." .ports No .t-an.ij.! ran rp In whrr t tim iir i fficcf rr.-i. f.-r th vrrv pop jl.ir'.ty of bAschpll tiepends on its hon t.ty. lh only good umpir la a dead THEM RIGHT ISTY T7Tt TVrWl umpire." Mriira w baa declared many tlmrt when he has been disgruntled oyer aome derl.ton. I think tney're all dead ones In this leaeue." replied l'evor one day. "cor.nM-rinn th decisions that they ae handing me down there st second base. Why, I had that baa: by three teer and he railed roe out. Many baseball fns look upon an umpire aa a aort of necessary evil to the luxury of baseball. like the smell that follows an automobile. "Kill him! He hann't cot any friends!" an expression shouted from thu ntftda time and aalu during a c me. H it I know differently. I have seen nninlrM wtth friend a. It's true that mot bull plym regard nmnlres aa their rn t t:r.l enemies. s:a a toy does a w hoolteacher. But "Bill" Klem has friends because I have seen him with thtni. and tesides he ha a constant companion, whlrh Is a calabash pipe. And Fi ; 1 1 v Kviir.i. of the American 1-eaftie. has lots of friends. And most al of the umrlr'H haye aotoe one who will sipe.ik to them when ttiry are off Tliese men In Mue travel by them pelves, live at obscure hotel apart from the ones; at which the ba'l tams step, and slip tnt- th bull parks un obtrusively junt before) eame time. They never make friends with ball player j off te field fnr fear that there mieht be a breath of scandal. Sri loni do they take the sam train wtt?i a clih unless It cannot be avoided. "Hsnk (Vpnr. the yet-rsn of the Ns -tlonal League stsff. and Brennan took the ssni tram out of Chicago with t'a (t.mt 1 it Fs'l because we s'opped In t'itfsburg for one game, and they hsd to be ther t umpire. It was the onlv available means of trans portation. But they stayed bv them selves In another I'tillmsn until soma one told them 't'harley' Fsust. the of ficial jinx killer of the Oiants. was doing Ma stun? Then they both came back to the 'ants' car and f-r the f:rt time tn rvv 1!' I saw "Hank"' O Pay U leh. His f.v acted as if It wasn't sevustonied to the exerca and broke sll In funnv new wrinkles like when y n put on a new patr of gloves f jr the fir t time. Tyset sf Aatoeratlc I aspire. There are several types of umpires, and ball plsyers are always studying them to find out the best way to treat e.ici mn to gt the most out of him. There are autocrats and stubborn ones and e od fellows and weak-kneed ones. altuoM aa many kinds as there are hu man be;ns: a. The autocrat of th um pire world Is "tt;lk" O'Joughlin. now appesrin; with a rival show. There aro no close pas." says " ' ' - ' (' -?-r.-.- 5 r '.'.'.- -U !; '-, . r. , urrv: : Jl MOTION PICTURES DRAW FRENCH STAGE FT O. VALENTINE WILLIAMS PRI3. Krb. 21. (Special corr !Mn.!enre.) MaJame Rcjjn. of bewitching smllr. having tak.n tre tp from the theater to the rouble hall, baa now followed the ritmi ! of so many prominent French artistes and appeared as a mov-Ir.n-cU-ture actre. The magic of n.ir a briJ. of gold, il Is true, out In accepttr.ai 'h very templing offer of tie cl-iumaiograph picture-makers she was on'.y Indorsing a practice watch is di!y becoming more common In the hiche.t ranks of the French) the. atrlcal profession, even to thus' who tread the sacrosanct boards of the Comedi Francatse. On has only to take a wa'k down th Farls boulevards to see with what astc-nlshing stride, cinema-drama, with leading actor, and actresses as its In terpreters, has come to the front In France. In addition to "Madame Sans tiene." recent new productions Include a lew version, aptclally written for A. ' VW r.i .... h&i'sh IS , . I : - ' . : I I ivU t r ' f Nil, il nk. "A man is always out or safe, or It Is a ball or a strike, and the um pire, tf he Is a :ood man. is always right. For Instance, 1 am always right.- He refuses to let the players dis cuss a decision with him. maintaining that there Is never any room for ar gument. If a man makes any talk with him It is quick to the hoi-r-bath. "Silk has a voice that he Is proud of and declares that he shares the honors with Caruso anr" thru it Is only his profession as an :imjilre that keeps him out of the grand oora cir cuit. l'Vv beard a lot. of Arm-: i- .in LfCugun ball players siy st arious times that they wished he was on the grand opera circuit or somo more cal orific rlrrult, but thv were mostly preiudlced at those moments by sotno sentiments which "Silk" had Just voiced In an official capsclty. As Is well known In baseball. "Silk" Is the inventor of "Strike Tuh!" and the rref trousers for umpires. I've heard American League p'sycrs declare that they are afraid to slide when "Silk" Is close down over a play for fear hey mill bump up agiinut his trousers and cut themselves. He is one sf the kind of umpires who can go through a camo on the hottest Summer day running1 about the bases and Mill keer his collar unwi'ted. At the end he'll look as If he were dressed for an afternoon tea. Always he wears on his right hand, which is hm talary or decision wing, some cracked ice that sparklea In the aunllght every time he calls a man out. Many American League players assert that he would rather call a man out than safe so that he can shimmer Ms diamond, but again they are usually In fluneced by clrcutnMatices. Such la "Silk.' well named. Corresponding to him In the. National League Is "Hilly" Klem. Ho wears a Norf v k jacket always because he thinka It more stylish, and perhaps it I. and be refuni-a to don a wind pad. Kver notice htm working behind the bat? But I am going to let you in on a secret. Tl at chest Is not all his own. Beneath h'a Ja.-ket he carries his armor, a chest protector, and under his trouaer legs are sMn guards. He In sists that all players call Mm "Mr." He says that he thinks maybe next year his name will be tn the social regtater. "Lrrv" Poyle thought that he had received the raw end of a decision at second bae one day. He ran down to first, whet Kiem had retreated after he had pas-ed hla Judgment. "Say, 'HIM.' exploded "Larry." "that man uidn't tojcf: the bag didn't come within six feet of It" "Say. Poyle." replied Klem. "when you talk t me, call me 'Mr. Klem." "But. Mr. Klem " amended "Larry." Klem hurriedly drew a line w:th his th cinematograph, of Victor Hugo's masterpiece. "Notre Dame de Paris." with that uVllglitf nl actor, il. Claude liarry. as th sinister priest. Claudo Frolio, and Ml'.e. Napierkowska. who has been dancing in London, as the un fortunate Esmeralda, a playlet in w hich M)yl. Prevost, the chanting Ingenue f the Comerlle Francatse. appears with M tiarry, and a sketch acted by Mile. Mtstinguetl. th most popular light op era duetto In Paris. These productions are, however, es sentially clnen atograph plays, written for th Interpreters and for the cam era. Tb production of "Madame Sans Geno" breaks fresh ground in that It Is the permanent record of one of the finest creations of a great actress. It Is an Innovation which Is destined to be epoch-making In the history of the drama, and which, as may be foreseen without difficulty, will be Immensely developed M. Lr Barry, th most-talked-about actor In - arLs and for many years the leading Jun premier of tho "Comedl Francatse, has consented In his turn to play his Inimitable Interpretation of the Marquis de Prlola, his most fa mous role, before the camera. I have heard fr.at a t) ousand pounds is the amount of his honorartem. 1 do cot dcibt that Mn:e. Sarah Bernhardt will eventually follow suit and appear as i " f V.;'" . it fot bh Poy I approached hltn menac ingly. "Hut if you come over that line, you're out of the game. Mr. Doyle," he threatened. "All right." answered "larry," let ting his pugilistic attitude evaporate before the abruptness vf Klem as the mist does before the classic noonday sun. "but. Mr. Klem, I only wanted to ask you if thai clock in centerfleld was right by your watch, because I know everything about you is right." "Larry" went back grinning and con sidering that he had put one over on Klem Mr. Klem. For a long time ".lohnny" Evers of the Chicago club, declared that Klem owed him $." on a bet he had lost to the second baseman and had neglected to pay. Now John, when he was right, could mako almost any umplrlcal goat leap from crag to crag and do somer saults en route. Ho kept pestering Klem about that measly $i bet. not In an ohtrusiie way, you understand, but by such delicate methods as holding up five fingers when Klem glanced down on the coaching lines where he was stationed or by writing a large "6" In the dirt at home plate with the butt of his bat as he came up when K lem was umpiring on balls and strikes, or by counting slowely and casually up to five and stopping with an abruptness that could not be mis construed. One day John let his temper get away from him and bawled Klem out in his most approved fashion. "Here's your f!ve. Mr. Evers, said Klem. handing him a $5 bill, "and now you are fined 126." "And it was worth It," answered Evers. "to bawj you out." The O'Oay Typ of Vmplre. Next comes the O'Pay type, and there la only one of them. "Hank." He Is the stubborn kind or perhaps was the stubborn kind, would be bet ter, as he is now a manager. He Is bull headed. If a manager gets after him for a decision, he Is likely to go up In the a!r and, not meaning to do tt. call close ones against the club that has made the kick, for it must be 1 remembered that umpires are only I L'Alglon and La Dame Aux Camellias before the countless unseen audiences of the movlnr-pictures shows. M. Mounet-Sully, the grand old man of French tragedy, has. I think, already been persuaded to leave for posterity his majestic interpretation of Oedipus Rex. "Madame Sans-Gene" had to be specially rewritten and compressed for the cinematograph, and the moving picture playwrigi.t and state manager win have to be called tn to adjust all these plays to the requirements of the film. Experience, I think, will show that the pictorial record made of a piece as it is played upon the stage will not prove adequate for moving picture purposes. The cinematograph wants large effects, continual move ment and constant appea. to the eye. Devotees of the drama object that the art of the moving-picture actor lacks finesse, but I do not see why the aver age extravagance in gesture required for the film should not be graded down to lighter effects, which, of course, would always be broad in comparison with the art of the stage. Cinema drama la In its swaddling clothes. Ma dame Rejane's performance tn the film record of "Madame Sans-Gene," and. Indeed, the whole production, which is extraordinarly interesting, suggests certain defects which will have to be - poor wak mortals after all." O'Day ha. to he handled with shock ah sorher.. McGraw tries to do it, bnt shook absorbers don't fit him weil. and the first thing" that usually occurs is a row. "I-et me do the kicking-, boys." Mc Graw always warns his player before a game that O'Day is going to umpire. He doesn't want to see any of his men put out of the game. 'Bill" Dahlen always scot on O'Day's ) nerves by calling him "Henry." For j some reason O'Day doesn't like the ! nnmo a n H "Rill' rfthlpn riiarnvereri the most Irritating inflection to give it so that It would rap on O'Day's ears. He doesn't mind "Hank" and is not a "Mister" umpire. But every time Dah len would call O'Day "Henry" it was the cold shower and the civilian's clothes for him. Dahlen was playing in St. Louis many years ago when the racetrack was right across from the ball park. "Bill had a preference in one of the later races one day and was anxious to get across the street and make a little bet. He had obtained a leave of absence on two preceding days by call ing O'Day "Henry" and had lost money on the horses he had selected as fleet of foot. But this last time he had a "sure thing" and was banking on some positive Information which had been slipped to him by a friend of the friend of the man who owned the winner, and "Bill" wanted to be there. Along about the fifth Inning. "Bill" figured that it was time for him to get a start, so he walked up to O'Day and said: "Henry, do you know who won the first race?" "No, and you won't either Mr. Dah len," answered "Hank." "You are fined 9-5, and you stay here and play the game out." fciome one had tipped "Hank" off. And the saddest part of the story is that "Bill's" horse walked home, and he couldn't get a bet down on him. "First time it ever failed to work," groaned "Bill" in the hotel that night, "and I said 'Henry' in my meanest way, too." Most rhibs try to keep an umpire from feeling hostile toward the team, because, even ff he means to see a piay right, he is likely to call a close one against his enemies, not Intending to be dishonest. It would simply mean that you wouldn't get any close ones from him. and the close ones count. Borne umpires can be reasoned with, and good fair protest will often make a man think perhaps he has called it wrong, and he will give you the edge on the next close one. A play er must understand an umpire to know how to approach him to the best ad vantage. O'Day can't be reasoned with. It is as dangerous to argue with him as it is to try to ascertain how much gasoline Is in the tank of an au tomobile by sticking down the lighted end of a cigar or cigarette. I'mptre Listens to Arsnmnt Emslle will listen to a reasonable argument. He Is one of the finest types of umpires that ever broke Into the league, I think. He Is a good fellow. Far be It from me to be disloyal to my manager, lor 1 tnina mat ne is iiie greatest that ever won a rennant, but Emslie put one over on McGraw last season when it was being said that Emslie was getting so old he couldn't see a play. "I'll bet," said McGraw to him one overcome before cinema-drama is brought to the pitch of perfection as a permanent record of (Teat histrionic triumphs. Cinema-drama will presumably call Into existence a school of cinema-dramatic criticism, fur, as any moving picture actor will agree, this new branch of acting requires special train ing which has to be acquired. As the cinematograph appeals solely through the Image of the imagin tlon. I found throughout the play that my attention became riveted on Napoleon, and I wondered whether dif ferent stage management, without re gard to the book of the play, could not have kept the Marechale Lefebvre most Insistently and more continuously In the foreground. The cinema-drama of the future will disregard the scene painter, and only the most solid and convincing scenery will be allowed. Just as cotton looks like cotton and silk like silk in a mov ing picture, so canvas doors look like canvas doors and Imitation marble pil lars like Imitation marble pillars. More, over, the scenic Illusion is far more difficult to realize than on the stage, where, above all. the reglsseur has the aid of lighting. Since "Madame Sans-Gene" is a re production of a stage play and not a , day after he had called one against the Giants, "that I can put a baseball and an orange on second base, and you can't tell the difference from the homo plate. Bob." Emslie made no reply right then, but when the eye test for umpires was es tablished by Mr. Lynch, the president of the league, "Bob" passed it at the head of the list and then turned around and went up to Chatham In Ontario, Canada, and made a high score with a rifle in a shooting match up there. After he had done that, he was umpir ing at the Polo Ground one day. "Want to take me on for c shooting match, John?" he asked McGraw as he passed him. "No, Bob, you're all right. I give It to you," answered McGraw, who had long forgotten his slur on Emslie'a eyesight. Emslie is the sort of umpire who rules by the bond of good-fellowship, rather than by the voice of authority. "Old Bob" has one "groove." and it is a personal matter about which he is very sensitive. He is under cover. It is no secret, or I would not give way on him. But that luxuriant growth of hair apparent comes off at night like his collar and necktie. It used to be quite the fad in the league to "Josh" "Bob" about his wig. but that pastime has sort of passed now because he has proven himself to be such a good fel low. I had to laugh to myself, and not boisterously, last year when Mr. Lynch appointed "Jack" Doyle, formerly a first baseman and a hot-headed player, an umpire and scheduled him to work with Emslle. I remembered the time several years ago when Doyle took of fense at one of ."Bob's" decisions and wrestled him all over the infield try ing to get his wig off and show him up before the crowd. And then Emslie and he worked together like Damon and Pythias and Klaw and Erlangor and the Siamese twins. The business makes strange bed fellows. Emslie was umpiring In New York one day In the season of 1909, and the Giants were playing St. Louis. A wild pitch hit Emslle over the heart and he wilted down, unconscious. The players gathered around him, and Bresnahan, who was catching for St. Louis at the time, started to help "Bob." Suddenly the old umpire came to and started to fight off his first aid to the injured corps. No one could understand his attitude as he strug gled to his feet and strolled away by himself, staggering a little and appar ently dizzy. At last he came back and gamely finished the business of the day. I never knew why he fought with the men who were trying to help him un til several weeks later, when we were playing In Pittsburg. As I came out from under the stand. Emslle happened to be making his entrance. "Say. Matty." he asked me, "that time in New York did my wig come off? Did Bresnahan take my wig off?" "No, Bob," I replied, "he was only trying to help you." "I thought maybe he took it off while I was down and out and showed me up before the crowd," he apolo gized. "Listen, Bob," I said. "I don't be lieve there is a player in either league who would do that, and, if any young ster tried It now, he would probably be licked." "I'm glad to hear you say that. Mat- NOTABLES "real life" scene, I .think the critic of the future would like to see it framed In a procenlum with the familiar bulge of the prompter's box In the fore ground. Madame Maeterlinck's famous experiment of producing her husband's play of "Pelleas et Melisande" In the house and grounds of the Abbey of Saint Wandrille, despite its very great artistic merits, undoubtedly suffered trom the absence of the stage frame. The illusion of the play is after all un doubtedly enhanced by the frame which holds it, like a picture, for the contem. piation of the audience. When will England's leading actors and actresses follow the lead of their French colleagues The objection has, I suspect, been raised that the actor manager would find his audiences fall ing off if he played before the cine matograph. Putting aside the wider question as to whether there are two distinct audiences for playhouse and moving-picture theater it may be pointed out that there Is no need for the actor-manager to appear in his latest successes. But what would not our grandchidlren give to see Henry Irving in his prime in "The Bells" or In "Louis XI.," Sir Herbert Tree as Svengali or Falstaff. Sir Charles Wynd ham as David Garrick, Miss Ellen Terry as Olivia or Beatrice! J ty," answered the old man, as he picked up his wind pad and prepared to go to work. And he called more bad ones on me that day than he ever had in his life before, but I never mentioned that wig. empire Rave Their Off Days. Most umpires declare that they have off days just like players, when they know that they are making mistakes and cannot help it. If a pitcher of Mordecai Brown's kind, who depends largely on his control for his effective ness, happens to run up against an umpire with a bad day, he might just as weil go back to the bench. - Brown is a great man to work the corners of the plate, and if the umpire Is missing strikes, he is forced to lay the ball .over and then the batters whang it out. Johnstone had an off day In Chicago this last season when Brown was work ing, and couldn't see a strike unless the ball cut the plate. "What's the use of me tryin' to pitch, Jim," said Brown, throwing down his glove and walking to the bench dis gusted, "If you don't know a strike when you see one?" Sometimes an umpire who has been good will go into a long slump when he can't call things right, and he knows it. Men liks that get as dis couraged as a pitcher who -goes bad. There used to be one In the National League who was a pretty fair umpire when he started and seemed to be get ting along fine until he hit one of those slumps. He was calling everything wrong, and he knew it. At last be quit, and the next time I saw him was in Philadelphia in the last world's series. He was a policeman. "Hello, Matty," he shouted at me as we were going into Shibe Park for the first game there. "I can call you by your first name now," and he waved his hand real friendly. The last con versation I had with that fellow unless my recollection fails me entirely was anything but friendly. Funny, I can't think of his name. Umpires have told me that sometimes they see a play one way and call It another, and as soon as the decision Is announced, they realize that they have called It wrong. This malady has put more than one umpire out. A man on the National League staff has Informed me since that he once called a hit fair that was palpably two feet foul in one of the " most important games ever played in baseball when he saw the ball strike on foul ground. "I couUn't help saying, 'Fair ball,' " declared 'this man, and he is one of the best In the National League. "Luckily." he added, "the team against which the decision went won the game." Many players assert that umpires hold a personal grudge against certain men who have put up too strenuous kickR, and for that reason the wise ones are careful how they talk to umpires of this sort. Fred .Tenney has said for a long time that Mr. Klem gives him a shade the worst of it on all close ones because he had a run in with that um pire one day when they came to blows. Tenney Is a" great man to pick out the good ones when, at the bat, and Fred says that if he Is up with a three and two count on him, Klem is likely to call the next one a strike if it is close, not because he is dishonest, but because he has a certain personal feeling which he cannot overcome. And the funny part about it is that Tenney does not hold this up against Klem. A Decision That Made !Mc Sick. Humorous incidents are always oc curring in connection with umpires. We were playing in Boston one day three years ago, and the score waa 3 to 0 against the Giants in the ninth inning. Becker knocked a home run with two men on the bases, and it tied the score. With men on first and third bases and one out in the last half of the ninth, a Boston batter tapped one to Merkle which I thought he trapped, but John stone, the umpire, said he caught it on the fly, and it was simplicity itself to double the runner up oft first base who also thought Merkle had trapped the ball and started for second. That re tired the side, and we won the game in the lth inning, whereas Boston would have taken it in the ninth if Johnstone had said the ball wai trapped instead of caught on the fly. It was a very hot day, and those ex tra three innings in the box knocked me out. I was sick for a week after wards with stomach trouble and couldn't pitch in Chicago, where we made our next stop. That was a case of where a decision in my favor "made me sick." "Tim" Hurst, the old American League .umpire, was one of the most picturesque judges that ever spun an indicator. He was the sort who would take a player at his word and fight him blow for blow. "Tim" was um piring in Baltimore in the old days when there was a runner on first base. "The man started to steal," says "Tim." He was telling the story only the other day in McGraw's pool room in New York, and it is better every time-he does it. "As he left the bag he spiked the first baseman and that player attempted to trip him. The second baseman blocked the runner and in sliding into the bag-, he tried to spike 'Hugh' Jennings, who waa playing shortstop and covering, while Jennings sat on him to knock the wind out. The batter hit Robinson, who was catching, on the hands with his bat so that he couldn't throw, and 'Robbie' tread on my toes with his spikes and shoved his glove into my face so that I couldn't see to make the decision. It was one of the hardest that I have ever been called upon to make." "What did you do?" I asked him. "I punched 'Robbie' in the ribs and called it a foul and sent the runner back," replied "Tim." (Copyright. 1912, by Christy Mathew son.; Title of next Sunday's article by Christy Mathewson: "The Pitcher and Spring Training.'1