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BASEBALL ABC Produced by David Edwards, Sankar Viswanathan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by the Library of Congress) BASEBALL ABC
McLoughlin·Bros·New·York COPYRIGHTED 1885 BY McLOUGHLIN BROS. * * * * * [Illustration] A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
* * * * * a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z * * * * * [Illustration]
A stands for ARTHUR, a boy fond of fun, When Base-Ball he plays, none like him can run. B stands for BALL, for BAT, and for BASE. C stands for CATCHER, with mask on his face. [Illustration]
D stands for DIAMOND drawn flat on the ground. E stands for EDWARD, who marks out the bound. [Illustration] F stands for FOUL on which Arthur goes out.
G stands for "GO"--How the merry boys shout! [Illustration] H stands for HIGH-BALL, knocked up to the sky. I stands for INNINGS, for which we all try.
[Illustration] J stands for "JUDGEMENT," the Base-Keeper's shout. K stands for KARL who so quickly gets out. [Illustration]
L stands for LEFT-FIELD, who catches FLY-BALLS. M stands for MUFF, who cannot catch at all. [Illustration] N stands for NORMAN, who knocks the ball high.
O stands for OUT, when it's caught on the fly. [Illustration] P stands for PITCHER, a smart boy you see. Q stands for QUICK, which this pitcher must be.
[Illustration] R stands for RUNNER, who runs to each base. S stands for SHORT-STOP, the ball he must chase. [Illustration]
T stands for THIRD-BASE, looked after by James. U stands for UMPIRE, who judges these games. [Illustration] V stands for VICTOR, the best of the nine.
[Illustration] W stands for WILLIAM, who tells us the time. X stands for SCORE-MARK, which errors point out. Y stands for YOUTH, who's been injured no doubt.
Z stands for ZENO, this boy rather tall, Who thinks there's no fun like a game of Base-Ball. * * * * * [Illustration] BASE-BALL A. B. C. A stands for ARTHUR, a boy fond of fun, When Base-Ball he plays, none like him can run.
B stands for BALL, for BAT, and for BASE. C stands for CATCHER, with mask on his face. D stands for DIAMOND drawn flat on the ground. E stands for EDWARD, who marks out the bound.
F stands for FOUL on which Arthur goes out. G stands for "GO"--How the merry boys shout! H stands for HIGH-BALL, knocked up to the sky. I stands for INNINGS, for which we all try.
J stands for JUDGEMENT, the Base-Keeper's shout. K stands for KARL, who so quickly gets out. L stands for LEFT-FIELD, who catches FLY-BALLS. M stands for MUFF, who cannot catch at all.
She nodded her stately head. "You knew Emily?" she asked abruptly, her sharp eyes full on his face. "Emily?" He searched his mind diligently, but no Emily, who naturally connected herself with the lady before him, appeared. "I am afraid not," he reluctantly admitted. "You cannot have forgotten my daughter," cried Madam...
"Helena she was," assented the old lady, undisturbed. "I remember now, it was afterward we began to call her Emily,--quite for a family reason. Well, that is neither here nor there. Now I won't go into details; enough to say that Emily, despite all her advantages, disappointed us utterly. Perhaps you remember hearing a...
Mr. King laid down the paper-cutter and turned back sympathetically; albeit several friends in the old town had kept alive for Emily Hastings's memory much commendation that she did not yield to her parents' choice of the superannuated wealthy foreigner they had selected as a husband for her. "And he never let me know ...
"Pip--why, Pip--" stammered Mr. King. "Tell me," she commanded peremptorily, "his name." "It's--let me see, we have called him Pip constantly--" he groped for the rest of the recital Jasper had given him one day concerning the lad so thrown upon their sympathy. "I shall think of it presently,--or I can ask Jasper, or B...
"I recall that--South America," replied the old gentleman, promptly. A spasm passed over her face. "His--his father is dead?" It was almost a whisper in which these words came. "Yes," said Mr. King, decidedly, "that is the reason that the poor little lad is under Dr. Presbrey's care."
The first gleam of comfort swept over the long, white face. "But the name,--you cannot think of it?" she begged piteously. "Let me see,"--the old gentleman drummed on the writing-table, rubbing his white hair with an absorbed hand,--"Lef--Lef? Yes, I am quite sure, Leffingwell is Pip's name. Why, my dear Madam!"--he st...
She twitched her black bonnet strings apart with a hasty hand, as if finding it difficult to breathe. "So I thought at first, and I have battled the idea as absurd. But it has conquered me to-day to come here and ask you about his history. And now I _know_ he is Emily's child." "I did not hear that she had a son," said...
"Cornelius?" broke in Mr. King. "The name of Emily's husband," said the old lady. "That is Pip's name, too," said the old gentleman. XXVIII
BEN DECIDES THE MATTER FOR HIMSELF Ben walked back and forth, his hands thrust deeply in his pockets. "It's no use, Mamsie," he came now and stood straight before her, his blue eyes fastened steadily upon her face; "I've just _got_ to do it." "There is no need for you to say that, Ben." Mrs. Fisher's tone was quiet, bu...
"There's where you are wrong, Ben," cried his mother, eagerly, and guilty of interrupting, "it is Mr. King's dearest wish to provide an education for you children; you can pay him back afterward. I have accepted for the others; why not for you?" "Because,--look at Polly. Oh, mother, think what Polly can do with her mus...
"Ben, Ben!" Mother Fisher's tone was quite reproachful now, and she seized his hand and covered it with her two strong ones. "Any one can accomplish what he sets out to. You can amount to whatever you put your mind on; and you deserve a college education if ever a boy did." She broke down now and was sobbing on his sho...
"Ah, Ben, my boy," Mrs. Fisher raised her head to look at him, "all you can get in the way of education helps you on just so much." "And I can have all these years I'd be spending at college in learning the business," Ben hurried on, feeling if he didn't say something, he should surely break down; for there was such a ...
"Halloo!"--Joel plunged into him; "where've you been?" And, not waiting for a reply, "Grandpapa says I'm to go if you'll go with me,"--he swarmed all over him in his eagerness. "Get off, Joe!" cried Ben, roughly. It seemed as if he couldn't bear any more just then, and he gave him, without stopping to think, a little s...
Joel stood perfectly still, plastered against the wall, his mouth open, but not equal to uttering a word, as Ben stalked on down the hall. "Oh, you think you're smart, I s'pose," at last it came in a burst behind him. "Well, I don't want you to go with me, Mr. Ben Pepper--Mr. Ebenezer Pepper." Joel could hardly get the...
Ben stood perfectly still for a moment, then strode off up to his room, where he locked the door fast, went over and sat on the side of the bed, and buried his face in his hands. How long he sat there he never knew. The first thing that brought him to himself was Polly's voice, and her fingers drumming on the door. "Be...
"Oh, Ben! O dear me! What is it?" Polly cried, quite aghast at his face. She huddled up to him and grasped his arm. "Tell me, Ben," and the fright at seeing him thus drove every bit of color from her face. "Nothing," said Ben, shortly, "that is--" "Oh, now you are sick," cried Polly, quite wildly, and with another look...
But she didn't hear anything but the first words, that Mamsie must not be called, and feeling more sure than ever by this that Ben was really sick, she redoubled her speed and rushed into Mother Fisher's room, crying, "Oh, Mamsie, do come quickly; something is the matter with Ben." Mrs. Fisher had sat down resolutely t...
For that something awful had happened to Ben, Polly was now quite sure, as she lay there, her head burrowed in the big pillow, the wildest thoughts running through her brain. The first thing she knew, a hard little hand was tucked into her neck. She knew Joel's tickles, that he loved to give her, long before he sang ou...
"I know you're sick," contradicted Joel, stubbornly; and bounding to his feet, "Where's Mamsie?" peering all around the room. Polly didn't answer, being unwilling to tell about Ben. "Well, I shall go and find her," declared Joel, decidedly, preparing to rush off. "You must not," cried Polly, bounding up to sit straight...
"Because what?" demanded Joel, coming back to the sofa to fasten his black eyes on her face. "Oh, because--" began Polly, again casting frantically about in her mind what to say and twisting her handkerchief with nervous fingers. "Now I know that my Mamsie is sick and you're keeping it from me," cried Joel, in a loud, ...
Joel whirled around and fixed wide eyes of astonishment upon her. "And I don't know in the least," said Polly, brokenly, "what's the matter with him. He acts so funny, Joel, you can't think," she brought up, mournfully, while she twisted her poor handkerchief worse than ever. Joel pushed his face up to scan her thought...
In her distress she forgot that she was to comfort him, and she seized his arm and clung to it. "It's me," blurted Joel, forgetting grammar and everything else, and pulling away from her, he slipped off the sofa and began a quick pace to the door. "Where are you going?" Polly flew after him, and although he ran smartly...
"_You made him bad_," repeated Polly, faintly, and, tumbling backward in surprise, she let the jacket-end go. "O dear me!" "And I'm going to make him well," screamed Joel, plunging off. She could hear him clambering up over the stairs two at a time. "If I could only go too," mourned Polly, having nothing to do but go s...
"Oh, Joel, what is it?" she exclaimed, flying off from the sofa; "what is the matter with Ben?" "Nothing," said Joel, in high glee. As long as Ben wasn't sick, and he had made matters right with him, the rest could wait. So downstairs Joel ran to Grandpapa, to tell him that he had made a grand mistake; that he did want...
Meantime Polly was having a perfectly dreadful time up in Ben's room. It took Mrs. Fisher as well as Ben to comfort her in the least for her dreadful disappointment that Ben was not going to accept a long and thorough education at Mr. King's hands. But all this was as nothing to Grandpapa's dismay when the truth came o...
"Ben needs no words from you, Doctor Fisher," said Mr. King, icily; "I really consider the least said on this subject the better, perhaps." "Perhaps--and perhaps not," said the little man, just as cheerily. It was impossible to quarrel with him or to shake him off, and Mr. King, realizing this, kept on his walk with lo...
The little man squinted at the tips of the trees waving their skeleton branches in the crisp air, then brought a calm gaze to the excited old face: "Not exactly; but I do say when you make a boy like Ben turn from the path he has marked out for himself, all the education that culture would crowd on him is just so much ...
But as the matter was now decided and out of his hands, the next thing to do was to get Ben a good place where he could begin on his business career, sure of good training. So the following day old Mr. King dropped into the office of Cabot and Van Meter, for a little private conversation. They welcomed him heartily, as...
"I suppose he is experienced," he began slowly. "Not in the least," replied old Mr. King, shortly. "Well, er--on what do you recommend him?" ventured Mr. Van Meter. "I don't recommend him," the old gentleman answered in his crispest manner. "Bless you, I don't go about recommending people; you know that." He looked int...
"Well, what do you want your young friend to have with us--what kind of a position?" asked Mr. Cabot, patting one knee in perplexity. "Anything," said Mr. King. "Give him anything to do; only get him in here. I tell you he must come, and you've got to take him." He leaned forward in his chair and struck his walking-sti...
"_Ben Pepper!_" ejaculated Mr. Cabot. "Why, I thought he was in school." "He was," said old Mr. King, turning on him with considerable venom, as if he were quite to blame for the whole thing, "but he has made up his mind to go into business. A very poor thing in my opinion; but since he's decided it that way, there's n...
BOOKS BY MARGARET SIDNEY A LITTLE MAID OF CONCORD TOWN _Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill_ A LITTLE MAID OF BOSTON TOWN _Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill_ THE FAMOUS PEPPER BOOKS
IN ORDER OF PUBLICATION _Twelve Volumes_ _Illustrated_ * * * * * THE FAMOUS PEPPER BOOKS
Five Little Peppers and How they Grew. This was an instantaneous success; it has become a genuine child classic. Five Little Peppers Midway. "A perfect Cheeryble of a book."--_Boston Herald._
Five Little Peppers Grown Up. This shows the Five Little Peppers as "grown up," with all the struggles and successes of young manhood and womanhood. Phronsie Pepper. It is the story of Phronsie, the youngest and dearest of all the Peppers.
The Stories Polly Pepper Told. Wherever there exists a child or a "grown-up," there will be a welcome for these charming and delightful "Stories Polly Pepper told." The Adventures of Joel Pepper. As bright and just as certain to be a child's favorite as the others in the famous series. Harum-scarum "Joey" is lovable.
Five Little Peppers Abroad. The "Peppers Abroad" adds another most delightful book to this famous series. Five Little Peppers at School. Of all the fascinating adventures and experiences of the "Peppers," none will surpass those contained in this volume.
Five Little Peppers and Their Friends. The friends of the Peppers are legion and the number will be further increased by this book. Ben Pepper. This story centres about Ben, "the quiet, steady-as-a-rock boy," while the rest of the Peppers help to make it as bright and pleasing as its predecessors.
Five Little Peppers in the Little Brown House. Here they all are, Ben, Polly, Joel, Phronsie, and David, in the loved "Little Brown House," with such happenings crowding one upon the other as all children delightedly follow, and their elders find no less interesting. * * * * * THE JUDGES' CAVE
_A Romance of the New Haven Colony in the Days of the Regicides_ There are few more fascinating phases of colonial history than that which tells the wanderings and adventures of the two judges who, because they sat in judgment over that royal criminal, Charles the First of England, were hunted out of England into hidin...
_A Romance of the American Revolution_ A delightful revolutionary romance of life, love, and adventure in old Concord. The author knows the interesting town thoroughly. Debby Parlin, the heroine, lived in a little house on the Lexington Road, still standing, and was surrounded by all the stir and excitement of the mont...
SALLY, MRS. TUBBS _An amusing and sympathetic study of a New England woman of humble station, but noble character._ CHICAGO RECORD-HERALD says: What can be said is, that those who have read "Mrs. Wiggs" will purchase "Sally, Mrs. Tubbs." The author of this pleasant story, who is Margaret Sidney of the "Pepper" books re...
As a chapter out of human life "Sally, Mrs. Tubbs" is, perhaps, as good as "Mrs. Wiggs." Regarded artistically, it shows the workmanship of a more practised hand; it has a plot, and this plot pleasantly complicated, and thus differs from its next of kin. We judge that Sally and her 'Bijah, who, though little, is "sizab...
This short story of 180 pages is captivating from start to finish, and the masculine reader takes off his hat, and the feminine reader courtesies, to this matron of the tubs, with her homely heroism and true kindness of heart. By EDITH DUNHAM Fifty Flower Friends _With Familiar Faces_
A FIELD BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS With twelve full-page colored plates, decorations and fifty text illustrations from nature by W. I. BEECROFT. Children cannot too soon begin to know the wild flowers, and here they are told in a charming way where and when to look for each of fifty widely distributed common flowering pla...
"Good brief descriptions, good clear pictures, portraits almost, of each flower friend, a beautiful cover, convenient arrangement, and fine large print, make a perfect book to own, or to give to any one, especially a child."--_Universalist Leader._ "If the children do not learn something new about flowers this summer i...
= = = PG48277 = = = BEN STONE AT OAKDALE E-text prepared by Stephen Hutcheson, Rick Morris, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 48277-h.htm or 48277-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/48277/48277-h/48277-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/48277/48277-h.zip) Transcriber's note: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_itali...
[Illustration: “HERE THEY BE!”—PAGE 260.] BEN STONE AT OAKDALE by MORGAN SCOTT
Author of “Boys of Oakdale Academy,” “Rival Pitchers of Oakdale,” “Oakdale Boys in Camp,” “The Great Oakdale Mystery,” “The New Boys at Oakdale,” etc. [Illustration] A. L. Burt Company Publishers New York Printed in U. S. A.
------------------------------------------------------------------------ CONTENTS ------------------------------------------------------------------------ BEN STONE AT OAKDALE.
CHAPTER I. "BEN STONE." As he was leaving the academy on the afternoon of his third day at school in Oakdale, Ben Stone was stopped by Roger Eliot, the captain of the football team. Roger was a big, sturdy chap, singularly grave for a boy of his years; and he could not be called handsome, save when he laughed, which wa...
Since coming to Oakdale Ben had seemed to shun the boys at the school, seeking to make no acquaintances, and he was somewhat surprised when the captain of the eleven addressed him. Roger, however, was not long in making his purpose clear; he took from his pocket and unfolded a long paper, on which were written many nam...
He extended the subscription paper toward the stocky boy, who, however, made no move to take it. Several of the boys, some of them in football clothes, for there was to be practice immediately after school, had paused in a little group a short distance from the academy steps and were watching to note the result of Roge...
Roger Eliot showed surprise and disappointment, but he did not immediately give over the effort. “Why, of course you’ll give something,” he declared, as if there could be no doubt on that point. “Every one does. Every one I’ve asked so far has; if you refuse, you’ll be the first. Of course, if you can’t afford to give ...
“Oh, all right!” he said, in a manner that surprised and relieved Stone. “You know your own business, and I’m sure you’d like to give something.” These words, together with Eliot’s almost friendly way, broke down the barrier of resentment which had risen unbidden in the heart of the stocky lad, who suddenly exclaimed: ...
“I have—a little,” answered Ben; “but that was some time ago. I don’t know much about the game, and I don’t believe I’d be any good now. I’m all out of practice.” “Never you mind that,” said the captain of the team. “Lots of the fellows who are coming out for practice have never played at all, and don’t know anything a...
They passed down the gravel walk to the street, and crossed over to the gymnasium, which stood on the shore of the lake, close behind the fenced field that served for both a football and baseball ground. The gymnasium was a big, one-story frame building, that had once been used as a bowling alley in the village. The ma...
“I have my regular suit here, Stone,” he said; “and here are some other things, a lot of truck from which you can pick out a rig, I think. Take those pants and that jersey. Here are stockings and shoes. My shoes ought to fit you; I’m sure the rest of the stuff is all right.” Ben started to object, but Roger was in earn...
“First rate,” answered Roger, who was lacing his sleeveless jacket. “I’ll raise it all right, if I have to tackle every man, woman and child in town with that paper.” “That’s the stuff!” whooped Chipper Cooper. “Being captain of a great football team, you are naturally a good man to _tackle_ people. Rah! rah! rah! Coop...
“Come on, fellows,” called Eliot, who had finished dressing in amazingly quick time. “Come on, Stone. We want to do as much as we can to-night.” They trooped out of the gymnasium, Ben with them. A pleasant feeling of comradery and friendliness with these boys was growing upon him. He was a fellow who yearned for friend...
“Why can’t I do it?” he asked himself, as he came out into the mellow afternoon sunshine. “I can! I will! They know nothing about the past, and they will never know.” Never had the world looked more beautiful to him than it did as he passed, with his schoolmates about him, through the gate and onto the football field. ...
------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER II. THE PARIAH. The other boy saw him and halted, staring at him, astonishment and incredulity on his face. In that moment he was speechless with the surprise of this meeting.
Ben returned the look, but there was in his eyes the expression sometimes seen in those of a hunted animal. The boys at a distance continued kicking the football about and pursuing it, but those nearer paused and watched the two lads, seeming to realize in a moment that something was wrong. It was Roger Eliot who broke...
“Do I know him!” he exclaimed, with the utmost disdain. “I should say I do! What’s he doing here?” “He’s attending the academy. He looks to me like he might have good stuff in him, so I asked him out for practice.” “Good stuff!” cried Hayden scornfully. “Good stuff in that fellow? Well, it’s plain that you don’t know h...
Not a word came from Ben Stone’s lips, but the sickly pallor still clung to his uncomely face, and in his bosom his heart lay like a leaden weight. He had heard the boys in the gymnasium talking of “Bern,” but not for an instant had he fancied they were speaking of Bernard Hayden, his bitterest enemy, whom he felt had ...
“He lived in Farmington, where I came from when we moved here—before he ran away,” was the answer. “Before he ran away?” echoed Roger. “Yes; to escape being sent to the reformatory.” Some of the boys muttered, “Oh!” and “Ah!” and one of them said, “He looks it!” Those close to Stone drew off a bit, as if there was cont...
Sudden rage and desperation seemed to swell Ben’s heart to the point of bursting. The pallor left his face; it flushed, and from crimson it turned to purple. He felt a fearful desire to leap upon his enemy, throttle him, strike him down, trample out his life, and silence him forever. His eyes glared, and the expression...
“I’m sorry to hear this,” said the captain of the eleven, although to Ben it seemed there was no regret in his voice. “Of course we don’t want such a fellow on the team.” “I should say not! If you took him, you couldn’t keep me. I wouldn’t play on the same team with the son of a jail-bird.” “What’s that?” cried Roger. ...
“Was that his father?” “That was his father. Oh, he comes of a fine family! And he has the gall to come here among decent fellows—to try to attend the academy here! Wait till my father hears of this! He’ll have something to say about it. Father was going to send him to the reformatory once, and he may do it yet.” Roger...
“Better watch him, Eliot; he may steal those things.” The world had been bright and beautiful and flooded with sunshine a short time before; now it was dark and cold and gloomy, and the sun was sunk behind a heavy cloud. Even the trees outside the gate seemed to shrink from him, and the wind came and whispered his sham...
They were out there enjoying their sport and football practice, while Ben found himself alone, shunned, scorned, outcast. He seemed to see them gather about Hayden while Bern told the whole shameful story of the disgrace of the boy he hated. The whole story?—no, Ben knew his enemy would not tell it all. There were some...
Bern Hayden had told the boys on the football field that once his father was ready to send Stone to the reformatory, which was true. To escape this fate, Ben had fled in the night from Farmington, the place of his birth. Nearly two years had passed, but he believed Lemuel Hayden to be a persistent and vindictive man; a...
“I’d be there now, only for you!” was Ben’s bitter thought, as he hastened down the road. Behind him, far beyond Turkey Hill, the black clouds lay banked in the west. They had smothered the sun, which could show its face no more until another day. The woods were dark and still, while harsh shadows were creeping nearer ...
CHAPTER III. ONE RAY OF LIGHT. As he passed, he looked up at the academy, set far back in its yard of many maple trees, and saw that the great white door was closed, as if shut upon him forever. The leaden windows stared at him with silent disapproval; a sudden wind came and swung the half-open gate to the yard, which ...
This was the home of Mrs. Jones, a widow with three children to support, and here Ben had found a bare, scantily-furnished room that was within his means. The widow regarded as of material assistance in her battle against poverty the rent money of seventy-five cents a week, which her roomer had agreed to pay in advance...
A lump rose in Ben’s throat, and into his chilled heart crept a faint glow. Here was some one who took an interest in him, some one who did not regard him with aversion and scorn, even though it was only a poor little cripple. Jimmy Jones had reminded Ben of his own blind brother, Jerry, which had led him to seek to ma...
“Yep, I waited. What made you so late? I wanted to tell you, I set that box-trap you fixed for me so it would work, an’ what do you think I ketched? Bet you can’t guess.” “A squirrel,” hazarded Ben. “Nope, a cat!” laughed the little fellow, and Ben whistled in pretended great surprise. “But I let her go. We don’t want ...
“Say, if I ketch a squirrel, will you help me make a cage for him?” asked Jimmy eagerly. “I don’t know,” answered Ben soberly. “If I can, I will; but——” “Course you ken! Didn’t you fix the trap? I expect you know how to make ev’ry kind of thing like that.” “If I have a chance to make it, I will,” promised Ben, as he ge...
“I don’t s’pose we ken begin now?” “It’s too late to-night, and I’m in a hurry. We’ll have to put it off, Jimmy.” The smile vanished from his face the moment he passed round the corner of the house on his way to the back door. “Poor little Jimmy!” he thought. “I can’t help you make your squirrel-cage, as I’m not going ...
Besides the bed, there was in the room for furniture a broken-backed rocking-chair; a small table with a split top, on which stood a common kerosene hand-lamp; a dingy white earthen water pitcher and bowl—the former with a circular piece broken out of its nose—sitting on a washstand, made of a long box stood on one end...
Finally he became aware of the smell of cooking, which came to him from below, and slowly the consciousness that he was hungry grew upon him. It did not matter; he told himself so. There was in his heart a greater hunger that might never be satisfied. It had grown quite dark and he struck a light, after which he pulled...
With a long, nicked, blue platter, that served as a tray, Mrs. Jones stood outside and beamed upon him. On the tray were a knife, a fork, pewter spoons, and dishes of food, from one of which—a steaming bowl—came a most delightful odor. “Land sakes!” said the widow. “Them stairs is awful in the dark, an’ I didn’t darst ...
“There’s some beef stew,” she said, depositing the steaming bowl. “An’ here’s hot bread an’ butter, an’ some doughnuts I fried to-day. Joel alwus uster say my doughnuts was the best he ever tasted, an’ he did eat a monst’rus pile of ’em. I don’t think they was the best thing in the world f’r his dejesshun, either. Mis’...