Ezra B. Sutton then ranked as one of the best third-base players in the country. He was one of the most accurate throwers that I ever saw; a splendid fielder and a good batter, though not a particularly heavy one.

When he finally quit the game he settled down in business at Rochester, where he was still living the last I heard of him. A good man was Sutton, and one that would compare very favorably with the best in his line at the present day.

M. H. McGeary was a Pennsylvanian by birth, though not a Dutchman, as his name goes to prove. He was not only an effective and active shortstop but a good change catcher as well, being noted for his handling of sharp fly tips while in the latter position. He was in Philadelphia when last heard from, and doing fairly well.

Albert W. Gedney was the postoffice clerk of the New York State Senate at the time of our trip, and was one of the best of left fielders, being an excellent judge of high b.a.l.l.s and a sure catch, especially in taking b.a.l.l.s on the run. He is now a prosperous mill owner near New York City and does not have to worry as to where the next meal is coming from.

James McMullen, who played the center field, was an active and effective man in that position. He was also a fairly good left-handed pitcher, and a rattling good batsman, who excelled in fair-foul hitting. McMullen was an all-around good fellow, and when he died in 1881 he left a host of friends to mourn his loss.

J. P. Sensenderfer accompanied the club as, a subst.i.tute, as did Timothy Murnane, and both were good, all-around ball players, and are both still in the land of the living and doing more than well, Philadelphia being the abiding place of the former, while the last named is the sporting editor of the "Boston Globe."

I take particular pride in calling the attention of the public to the fact that but one player of all those making the trip went wrong in the after years, that one being George W. Hall, who accompanied the Bostons as a subst.i.tute and who in company with A. H. Nichols, James H. Craver and James A. Devlin was expelled by the Louisville Club in 1877 for crooked playing, they having sold out to the gamblers.

That there should have been but one black sheep among so many, in my estimation speaks well for the integrity of ball players as a cla.s.s and for the Argonauts of 1874 in particular.

That the great majority of these men have also made a success in other lines of business since they retired from the profession is also an argument in favor of teaching the young athletic sports. A successful athlete must be the possessor of courage, pluck and good habits, and these three attributes combined will make a successful business man no matter what that particular line of business may be.

For the companions of that, my first trip across the Atlantic, who are still in the land of the living I have still a warm place in my heart. I have both slept and eaten with them, and if we have disagreed in some particulars it was an honest disagreement. Whenever the information comes to me that some one of them is doing particularly well, I am honestly glad of it, and I have faith enough in human nature to believe that they have the same feeling so far as I am concerned.

For the two that are dead I have naught but kind words and pleasant memories. They were my friends while living, and dead I still cherish their memory.

To me they are not dead, only sleeping.

CHAPTER XI. I WIN ONE PRIZE AND OTHERS FOLLOW.

If it is true, as some people allege, that marriage is a lottery, then all I have to say regarding it is that I drew the capital prize and consequently may well be regarded as a lucky man, for truer, fonder, and more sensible wife than I have, or a happier home cannot be found even though you search the wide world over. It was in Philadelphia that I wooed and won her, and I was by no means the only contestant that was in the field for her heart and hand. There were others, and one in particular that was far better looking and much more of a lady's man than myself, but when he found that I had a pull at the weights he retired, though not without a struggle, and left me in undisputed possession of the field.

Just why I happened to be the successful suitor is now, and always has been, to me a mystery. I have asked Mrs. Anson to explain, but somehow I can get very little satisfaction. I was by no means a model man in the early days of my courtship, as my experiences detailed elsewhere go to prove, but I was an honest and faithful wooer, as my wife can testify, and that perhaps had as much to do with the successful termination of my suit as anything. I had been used to having everything that I wanted from my babyhood up, and after I had once made up my mind that I wanted my wife, which I did very early in our acquaintance, I laid siege to her heart with all the artifices that I could command.

I am sometimes inclined to believe that I fell in love with her, at least part way, the very first time that I met her, else why should I remember her so vividly?

Her name was Virginia M. Fiegal, and she was one of a family of two, and the only daughter, her father being John Fiegal, a hotel and restaurant man in the Quaker City.

The first time that I ever saw her was at a ball given by the National Guards in Philadelphia, and though she was then but a fair-haired, blue-eyed girl of some twelve or thirteen summers, and still in short dresses, she attracted my attention. Just how she was dressed on that occasion I could not tell you to save my life, nor do I think I could have done so an hour after the ball was over, but for all that the memory of her sweet face and girlish ways lingered with me long after the strains of music had died away and the ball-room was given over to the flitting shadows.

Some months, or weeks, perhaps, I have really forgotten which, drifted by before I saw her again, and then it was at a club ball, and this time I paid her considerable attention, in fact, I liked her better than any girl that I had yet met and was not afraid to show it, although I could not then muster up the necessary courage to go on boldly about my wooing. In fact, I left a great deal to chance, and chance in this case treated me very kindly.

Some time later, when the summer days were long, I met her again in company with a Miss Cobb, later the wife of Johnnie McMullen, the base-ball pitcher, at Fairmount Park, and that was the day of my undoing. After a pleasant time I accompanied her home to luncheon at her invitation, and that I had lost my heart long before the door of her house was reached I am now certain.

Once inside the door I asked her rather abruptly if her father or mother was at home, and I fancied she looked rather relieved when she found out that the only reason that I had asked her was that I wanted to smoke a cigar, and not to loot the house of its valuables.

Prior to that time I had circulated among the ladies but little, my whole mind having been concentrated on base-ball and billiard playing, and the particular fit of my coat or the fashion of my trousers caused me but little concern. From that afternoon on, however, things were different, and I am afraid that I spent more time before the mirror than was really necessary. I also began to hunt up excuses of various kinds for visiting the house of the Fiegals, and some of these were of the flimsiest character. I fancied then that I was deceiving the entire family, but I know now that I was deceiving only myself.

I was not the only ball player that laid siege to Miss Virginia's heart in those days. There was another, the handsome and debonair Charlie Snyder, who was a great favorite with the girls wherever he went. I became jealous very early in the game of Charlie's attentions to the young lady that I had determined upon making Mrs. Anson. It was rather annoying to have him dropping in when I had planned to have her all to myself for an evening, and still more annoying to find him snugly ensconced in the parlor when I myself put in an appearance on the scene.

So unbearable did this become that I finally informed him that I would stand no more trespa.s.sing on my stamping grounds, and advised him to keep away. But to this he paid but little attention and it was not until my sweetheart herself, at my request, gave him his conge that he refrained from longer calling at the house. It was the old story of "two is company, three is none," and I was greatly relieved when he abandoned the field.

I was now the fair Virginia's steady company, and long before I came to Chicago we understood each other so well that I ceased to worry about any of the callers at her home and began to dream of the time when I should have one of my own in which she should be the presiding genius of the hearth-stone.

She was not in favor of my coming to Chicago, and had it been possible for me to remain with honor in Philadelphia I should have done so, but that being impossible I left for the great metropolis of the West, promising to return for her providing her father would give his consent to our marriage as soon as possible.

I think one of the first things almost that I did after arriving in Chicago was to write the daddy of my sweetheart asking for her hand. I had been a little afraid to do so when at close range, but the farther away I went the bolder I became, for I knew that whatever his answer might be I was certainly out of any personal danger.

The old gentleman's answer was, however, a favorable one, and so after my first season's play in Chicago was over I returned to Philadelphia and there was united to the woman of my choice, and I am frank to confess that I was more nervous when I faced the minister on that occasion that I ever was when, bat in hand, I stood before the swiftest pitcher in the league.

The first little visitor that came to us was a baby girl that we called Grace, who was born October 6, 1877. That seems a long time ago now. The baby Grace has grown to womanhood's estate and is the happy wife of Walter H. Clough, and the proud mother of Anson McNeal Clough, who was born May 7, 1899, and who will be taught to call me "grandpa" as soon as his baby lips can lisp the words.

Adrian Hulbert Anson was our next baby. He was born Sept. 4, 1882, and died four days afterward, that being the first grief that we had known since our marriage. Another daughter, Adele, crept into our hearts and household April 24th, 1884, and is still with us.

Adrian C. Anson Jr. came into the world on September 4th, 1887, and died on the eighteenth day of January following. He lived the longest of all of my boys and his death was the cause of great grief both to his mother and myself.

The storks brought me another daughter, my little Dorothy, on August 13th, 1889, and she, thank G.o.d, is still engaged in making sunshine for us all.

John Henry Anson was born on May 3d, 1892, but four days later the angel of Death again stopped at my threshold and when he departed he bore a baby boy in his arms, whither I know not, but to a better world that this I feel certain, and one to which his baby brothers had journeyed before him.

Virginia Jeanette arrived November 22d, 1899, and has already learned to kick at the umpire when her meals are not furnished as promptly as she has reason to think they should be. She is a strong, healthy baby, and bids fair to remain with us for some years to come.

Before returning again to the ball field, on which the greater portion of my life has been spent, I wish to record the fact that all that I have and all that I have earned in the way both of money and reputation in later years I owe not to myself, but to Mrs. Anson. She has been to me a helpmeet in the truest and best sense of the word, rejoicing with me in the days of my success and sympathizing with me in the days of my adversity.

It was owing to her good counsel that I braced up in the days when she was my sweetheart, and it was to please her that I have staid braced up ever since, and am consequently still strong in mind and limb and as healthy a specimen of an athlete as you can find in a year's travel, albeit a little too heavy to run the bases still and play the game of ball that I used to play.

I have never found it necessary when I have lost $250 on a horse race or a match of any kind to go home and inform Mrs. Anson that owing to my bad judgment I had lost $2.50, but on the contrary I have made it a point to tell her the truth at all times, so that she knows just as well how I stand to-day as I do myself.

She and I are not only husband and wife in the truest sense of the word, but we are boon companions as well, and I always enjoy myself better on a trip when Mrs. Anson accompanies me that I do if I am alone.

I am as proud of my daughters as any man can well be and my only desire is that they shall all be as good as their mother and make the husbands of their choice as good and true wives.

At the present writing the only one of my birds that has left its parent nest and started out to build a home of its own is in Baltimore, where her husband, as fine a fellow as any man could wish to have for a son-in-law, is at present engaged in superintending the putting up of an office building contracted for the George H. Fuller Co., of Chicago, in whose employ he is.

CHAPTER XII. WITH THE NATIONAL LEAGUE.

It was some time in the fall of 1875 and while the National League was still in embryo that I first made the acquaintance of William A.

Hulbert, who afterwards became famous as the founder of that organization and the man whose rugged honesty and clear-headed counsels made of base-ball the National Game in the truest and broadest sense of the word.

At that time Mr. Hulbert was the President of the Chicago Base-Ball Club, and in company with A. G. Spalding he came to Philadelphia for the purpose of getting my signature to a contract to play in the Western metropolis.

It was the ambition of the Chicago management to get together a championship team, and with that object in view they had already signed the big-four who had helped so many times to win the pennant for Boston, viz.: Cal McVey, first base; James White, catcher; Ross Barnes, second base; and A. G. Spalding, pitcher, and the latter, who was to captain the Chicago team, had suggested my engagement as third baseman. I finally agreed to play with the team at a salary of $2,000, or $200 more than I was then getting with the Athletics.

I well remember Mr. Hulbert's appearance at that time. He stood in the neighborhood of six feet, and weighed close to 215 pounds. He had a stern expression of countenance and impressed one right from the start as being a self-reliant business man of great natural ability, and such he turned out to be. He was good-hearted and of a convivial nature when business hours were over, but as honest as the day was long, and would tolerate nothing that savored of crookedness in any shape or form. As an executive he had but few equals and no superiors. He was quick to grasp a situation and when once he had made up his mind to do a thing it took the very best sort of an argument to dissuade him.

During the winter of 1875-6 the National League sprang into being, the Hon. Morgan G. Bulkeley of Hartford, who was afterwards elected Governor of Connecticut, being its first President, he being succeeded by Mr.

Hulbert the following year. The clubs composing the league were as follows: Athletics of Philadelphia, Bostons of Boston, Hartfords of Hartford, Chicagos of Chicago, St. Louis of St. Louis, Louisville of Louisville, Ky., Mutuals of New York, and Cincinnati of Cincinnati, Ohio.

When I came to consult with the future Mrs. Anson in regard to my proposed change of base she not unnaturally objected to my going so far from home, for I had learned to regard Philadelphia as my home by that time.

I naturally thought it would be an easy matter for me to get my release from Chicago, and being naturally anxious to please her I made two trips to Chicago that winter for the purpose, and finally did what no ball player ever did before--offered $1,000 to be released from my promise.