ffection, and veneration of no avail,
and had had to invoke the friendly aid of a park policeman to quell one
of these incipient riots. To Mr. Bentley baseball was as a sealed book.
The tall man's justice, not always worthy of the traditions of Solomon,
had in it an element of force. To be lifted off the ground by strong
arms at the moment you are about to dust the home plate with your
adversary is humiliating, but effective. It gradually became apparent
that a decision was a decision. And one Saturday this inexplicable
person carried in his hand a mysterious package which, when opened,
revealed two pairs of diminutive boxing gloves. They instantly became
popular.
By the time they had made the accidental and somewhat astounding
discovery that he was a parson, they were willing to overlook it; in
view, perhaps, of his compensating accomplishments. Instead of advising
them to turn the other cheek, he taught them uppercuts, feints, and
jabs, and on the proof of this unexpected acquaintance with a profession
all of them openly admired, the last vestige of reserve disappeared. He
was accepted without qualifications.
II
Although the field to which they resorted was not in the most frequented
section of the park, pedestrians often passed that way, and sometimes
lingered. Thus, towards the close of a certain Saturday in July, a young
woman walked out of the wood path and stood awhile gazing intently
at the active figure striding among the diminutive, darting forms.
Presently, with an amused expression, she turned her head to discover
Mr. Bentley, who sat on a green bench under a tree, his hat and stick on
the grass beside him. She was unaware that he had been looking at her.
"Aren't they having a good time!" she said, and the genuine thrill in
her voice betrayed a rare and unmistakable pleasure.
"Ah," replied Mr. Bentley, smiling back at her, "you like to see them,
too. Most persons do. Children are not meant for the city, my dear young
lady, their natural home is in the woods and fields, and these little
fellows are a proof of it. When they come out here, they run wild. You
perceive," he added with a twinkle, as an expletive of unquestionable
vigour was hurled across the diamond, "they are not always so polite as
they might be."
The young woman smiled again, but the look she gave him was a puzzled
one. And then, quite naturally, she sank, down on the grass, on the
other side of Mr. Bentley's hat, watching the
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