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Of the other players Graves batted the best; but taking the team as a whole, and comparing them with Place or Herne, it appeared that Reddy and Homans were the only great hitters, and the two of them, of course, could not make a great hitting team. In fielding, however, the coach said he had never seen the like.

"They can pull ropes when you tell 'em to," he said. "Leastways, when it comes to brains, I reckon they'll stack up better'n them Portygees you used to have." "I never pretended that them Portygees had any brains at all," said the Cap'n, grimly. "They come aboard without brains, and I took a belayin'-pin and batted brains into 'em. I can't do that to these critters here.

Santry chuckled as he drew the last of the knots tight. "That'll hold him for a spell, I reckon. How you feel, Sheruff, purty comfortable?" The flowing end of the gag so hid the officer's features that he could express himself only with his eyes, which he batted furiously.

We'll put out in twelve days. Everything shipshape?" "Up to the buntin', sir, and down to her keel. I sh'd say about six-hundred tons; an' mebbe twelve days instead of fourteen. An' what'll be our course after Madeery, sir?" "Ajaccio, Corsica." "Yessir." If the admiral had said the Antarctic, Flanagan would never have batted an eye. "You have spoken the crew?" "Yessir; deep-sea men, too, sir.

"If I'm batted out to-day it's my finish," thought the unhappy Oakdale pitcher. "Cheer up," said a Clearporter, trotting past him. "We won't do a thing to you. If you're sick and need some medicine, we'll hand you some of the same kind we gave Newbert and Crowell." "Aw, go on!" growled Phil. "You're nothing but a lot of wind-bags."

"Now if she had only lived up to the Vicar of Wakefield's motto instead of mooning over Lancelot's old shield, and embroidering things for it, and acting as if it were something too precious for ordinary mortals to touch if she'd batted it into the corner, or made mud pies on it, to show that she was inflexible, fortune would have changed in her favor.

Across his forehead ran a long gash, cutting his left eyebrow square in two. There was no doubt of his being alive, for he was breathing hard, like a man does when he gets hit over the head. It didn't sound good. When a man breathes that way he's mostly all gone. Well, it was really none of my business, as you might say. Men got batted over the head often enough in those days.

"We got the Rube waggin'!" yelled a Buffalo player. Manning tripled down the left foul line a hit the bleachers called a screamer. When Ellis came up, it looked like a tie score, and when the Rube pitched it was plain that he was tired. The Bisons yelled their assurance of this and the audience settled into quiet. Ellis batted a scorcher that looked good for a hit.

We had a lot of rabbits and doves with him in the cage, hopping and flying around behind the thick glass front, and they were real sociable with old Pete, who never batted an eye at 'em. At the end of the month he was looking pretty thin and we were afraid he would peg out any day.

"Toward the end there you were shaking your head to Tim's signals and pitching what you wanted. None of that tomorrow. Let Tim judge the batters. This is his second year against town teams; he knows their game better than you." Tim swelled out his chest and swaggered. "All right," said Don. If Ted thought nothing of the way he had been batted, why, everything must be all right.