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Updated: June 26, 2025
He sat out on the porch with Rudie and Ivy and talked baseball, and got up to show Rudie how he could have got the goat of that Keokuk catcher if only he had tried one of his famous open-faced throws. Rudie looked politely interested, and laughed in all the right places. But Ivy didn't need to pretend. Rudie Schlachweiler spelled baseball to her.
If they'll take me. I'll have to lie six months on my age." Rudie was in charge of the garage now. "That part of it's all right," Chug confided to the Weld girl. "Only thing that worries me is Ma. She hasn't peeped, hardly, but I can see she's pretty glum, all right." "I don't know your mother," said the Weld girl. "Thasso," absent-mindedly, from Chug. "I'd like to." Chug woke up.
So he returned home, and was so silent and dreamy, and his appetite, which was usually of heroic proportions, was so small that his mother felt quite anxious about him. "You are not bewitched, Rudie dear?" she asked anxiously, just as we might inquire if he were a little upset. "I am not sure, mother, maybe I am!" he answered to the good lady's dismay.
Mosher flying home, her skirts billowing behind her, after a protracted afternoon at whist; little Ernie Trost with a napkin-covered peach basket carefully balanced in his hand, waiting for the six-fifteen interurban to round the corner near the switch, so that he could hand up his father's supper; Rudie Mass, the butcher, with a moist little packet of meat in his hand, and lurching ever so slightly, and looking about defiantly.
For example, it appeared that he knew Rudolph Rosenwater, buyer for Feigenson & Schiffer, of San Francisco, to the extent of an anecdote containing a long, intimate dialogue wherein Rosenwater commenced all his speeches with: "Well, Markie." "And so I says to him," Pasinsky concluded, "'Rudie, you are all right, I says, 'but you can't con me."
Awfully glad to have seen you again. We must go. That lady wants her shoes, I'm sure, and your employer is glaring at us. Come, dad." At the door she turned just in time to see Rudie removing the shoe from the pudgy foot of the fat lady customer. We'll take a jump of six months. That brings us into the lap of April. Pa Keller looked up from his evening paper.
"Why I liked the very first game I saw when Dad " "I mean, when did you first begin to care for me?" "Oh! When you put three men out in that game with Marshalltown when the teams were tied in the eighth inning. Remember? Say, Rudie dear, what was the matter with your arm to-day? You let three men walk, and Albia's weakest hitter got a home run out of you." "Oh, forget baseball for a minute, Ivy!
They were flush, for it had been pay-day in the afternoon, and under the reckless impulse of the holiday the jack-pot, ordinarily modest enough for cause, grew to unheard-of proportions. It contained nearly fifteen dollars when Rudie opened it at last. Amid breathless silence, he then and there made the only public speech of his life.
Therefore, when I say that Rudie Schlachweiler was a dream even in his baseball uniform, with a dirty brown streak right up the side of his pants where he had slid for base, you may know that the girls camped on the grounds during the season. During the summer months our ball park is to us what the Grand Prix is to Paris, or Ascot is to London.
"I was coming," he said, "to find you. The first night, I saw coolies working in the clay-pit. Bend, a moment over. Put now the ear close." Heywood laid his cheek in the dust. "They're keeping such a racket outside," he muttered; and then, half to himself: "It certainly is. Rudie, it's it's as if poor Kempner were waking up." He listened again. "You're right. They are digging."
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