CHAPTER XXXIII. MY LAST YEARS ON THE BALL FIELD.

The season of 1891 proved to be almost as disastrous, when viewed from a financial standpoint, as was the seasons of 1890, owing to the war for the possession of good players that broke out between the National League and the American Association, that was caused by a refusal on the part of the last-named organization to stick to the terms of the National Agreement, the result being the boosting of players' salaries away up into fancy figures.

This state of affairs proved to be exceedingly costly for all concerned, as really good players were at that time exceedingly scarce and the demand for them, constantly growing.

The Chicago team for that season was again to a very great extent an experimental one, made up at the beginning of the season of the following named players: Luby, Gumbert and Hutchinson, pitchers; Schriver and Kittridge, catchers; Anson, first base; Pfeffer, second base; Burns, third base; Dahlen, shortstop; Wilmot, Ryan and Carroll, outfielders; Cooney, substitute.

This proved to be a strong organization and one that would have landed the pennant 'had it not been for the fact that the jealousy of the old players in the East engendered by the Brotherhood revolt would not allow a team of youngsters, many of whom were newcomers in the League to carry off the honors, and a conspiracy was entered into whereby New York lost enough games to Boston to give the Beaneaters the pennant and to relegate us at the very last moment into the second place.

We had made a whirlwind fight for the honors, however, and though we lost no fault could be laid either at my door or at the doors of the players, as we had the pennant won had it not been for the games that were dropped by the "Giants" to the Boston Club, in order that the honors might not be carried off by a colt team.

Hutchinson, upon whom the most of the pitching work devolved, was one of the best in the business. He was a graduate of Yale, a gentleman and a player who used his head as well as his hands when in the box. Gumbert and Luby were both fair, and the latter, had it not been for strong drink, might have made for himself a much greater reputation than he did. Dahlen at short was a tower of strength to the team, being as agile as a cat, a sure catch and an exceptionally strong batter, while the rest of the infield and the entire outfield was away above the average in playing strength.

The race in 1891 was one of the closest in the history of the League. Opening the season in the third place we never occupied a lower position, but on the contrary, out of the twenty-four weeks that the season lasted he held the first place in the race for all of fifteen weeks and should have finished at the top of the column had it not been for the reasons already given, and which were largely commented on at the time by lovers of the game throughout the country, and the newspapers from one end of the United States to the other.

At the beginning of the closing week of the season's campaign Chicago was in the van by a percentage of victories of .628 to Bostons .615, which was apparently a winning lead and which would have been had not the New York organization made a present of its closing games to the Boston Club for the express purpose of throwing us down and keeping the pennant in the East. As it was, however, we finished head and head with the leaders, New York being third, Philadelphia fourth, Cleveland fifth, Brooklyn sixth, Cincinnati seventh, and Pittsburg eighth.

As an excuse for the queer showing made by the "Giants" in these Boston games it has been alleged that the team was in poor condition when it left the metropolis for the Hub to play this closing series, and that its true condition was kept a secret by the management, one writer going so far as to say that Manager Ewing's brother John was at that time disabled by a sprained ankle, while Rusie was suffering from a bruised leg, and also that Whistler had been playing at first base so well that Ewing thought he could afford to give Conner a day or two off, all of which may have been true, though I am free to confess right now that I do not believe it.

In February, 1892, the American' Association became a thing of the past, four of its leading clubs joining the National League, which now embraced twelve cities instead of eight, the circuit taking in Boston, Brooklyn, Louisville, Pittsburg, Cleveland, Cincinnati, New York, Philadelphia, Washington, Chicago, St. Louis and Baltimore.

The Chicago team for that season consisted of A. Gumbert, Hutchinson, Luby, Miller, Hollister and Meekin, pitchers; Kittridge and Schriver, catchers; Anson, first base; Canavan and Decker, second base; Dahlen and Parrott, third base; Dahlen and Cooney, shortstop; Ryan, Dugan, Wilmot and Decker in the outfield. The majority of these were green players, as compared with the seasoned material of which some of the other League clubs boasted, and it was only by switching them about from one position to another that it was possible to tell where they best fitted.

Although I had signed six pitchers at the beginning of the season, there were but three of them that fulfilled my expectations, viz., Gumbert, Hutchinson and Luby, and of these three Hutchinson did the lion's share of the work, pitching in no less than seventy of the one hundred and fifty-six games that we played. The team was not an evenly balanced one, however, and though it boasted of some individuals that were away above the average yet it lacked the ability and practice to play as a team and consequently finished the season in seventh place, Boston again carrying off the pennant with 102 games won and 48 lost, while Cleveland came second with 93 won and 56 lost, Brooklyn being third, Philadelphia fourth, Cincinnati fifth, Pittsburg sixth, Chicago seventh, New York eighth, Louisville ninth, Washington tenth, St. Louis eleventh and Baltimore last.

I remember one rather queer incident that occurred during that season, and while we were playing in Boston. Henry E. Dixey, the actor, who was then playing a summer engagement at the "Hub," had driven out to the grounds as usual in his buckboard, with his pet bull terrier "Dago" in the seat beside him. Dixey always retained a seat in his rig and took up his place right back of the left field. Dixie had not been on the ground more than twenty minutes when Dahlen swiped the ball for a three-bagger. It was one of those long, low, hard drives, and sailed about ten feet over the left fielder's head and in a direct line for Dixey. He couldn't have gotten out of the way had he tried, but the fact was that he didn't see it coming, and the first he knew of it was when he heard a sharp yelp at his side and saw poor "Dago" tumbling off his seat between the wheels.

The dog was dead when picked up, the ball having broken his neck. Between the yellow buckboard, the dead canine, the frightened horses and Dixey's excitement the whole field was in an uproar and it was fully ten minutes before we could get down to playing again, but Dahlen, the cause of it all, didn't even see the affair and scored on the death of "Dago," his being the only genuine case of making a dog-gone run that has ever come under my observation.

Some time during the winter of 1892, I added "big Bill Lange," who has since become one of the stars of the League, and Irwin to my string of fielders, and cast about to strengthen the pitching department of the team as much as possible, Gumbert and Luby having been released. Having this object in view no less than eleven twirlers were signed, of whom all but four proved comparative failures, Hutchinson, McGill and Mauck having to do the greater part of the work in the box, the other eight men, Shaw, Donnelly, Clausen, Abbey, Griffith, McGinnins, Hughey and F. Parrott being called on but occasionally. Of this lot Griffith was the most promising and he afterwards turned out to be a star of the first magnitude.

With these exceptions the team was about the same as that of the season before, and that it proved to be as great a disappointment to me as it did to the ball-loving public, I am now free to confess. It was a team of great promises and poor performances, and no one could possibly have felt more disappointed than I did when the end of the season found us in ninth place, the lowest place that Chicago Club had ever occupied in the pennant race since the formation of the League, we having won but 56 games during the season, while we had lost 71, a showing that was bad enough to bring tears to the eyes of an angel, let alone a team manager and captain.

The Bostons, whose team work was far and away the best of any of the League clubs, again walked away with the championship, that club winning 127 games and losing 63, while Pittsburg, which came second, won 81 games and lost 48. Cleveland was third with 73 games won and 55 lost, while Philadelphia, New York, Cincinnati, Brooklyn, Baltimore, Chicago, St. Louis, Louisville and Washington finished as named.

When the season of 1894 opened I was pretty well satisfied that my team of colts would make a much better showing than they had done during the previous year, but again I was doomed to disappointment. The team, with the exception of the pitching department, which had been very materially strengthened, was about the same as that with which I had taken the field the previous year, and that there was good enough material in it with which to win the pennant I was certain. It managed to fool me, however, and fool me good and hard, as well as several others who thought themselves good judges, and that before the season was half over.

We started out with seven pitchers, Griffith, Stratton, Hutchinson, Abbey, Terry, McGill and Camp, The last-named pitched in but a single game, which proved to be quite enough.

Our start was a bad one, in fact, the worst that we had ever made. We lost eight out of the first nine games that we played, and the end of May saw but one club between us and the tail end of the procession, that one being Washington. Until the month of August was reached we were never nearer than ninth in the race, but that month we climbed into the eighth position and there we hung until the finish came, leaving the Baltimore, New York and Boston Clubs to fight it out between them, which they did, the first-named carrying off the prize, winning 89 games and losing 39, against 88 won and 44 lost for Boston, after which came Philadelphia, Brooklyn, Cleveland, Pittsburg, Chicago, St. Louis, Cincinnati, St. Louis, Cincinnati, Washington and Louisville.

When the championship season of 1895 opened the Chicago Club had ten pitchers at its command, viz., Griffith, Hutchinson, Thornton, Parker, Friend, Stratton, Terry, McFarland, Dolan and Abbey; three catchers, Kittridge, Donohue and Moran, while I played first base, Stewart second base, Everett third base, Dahlen shortstop and Wilmot, Lange, Ryan and Decker the outfield. There were at least seven good twirlers in the bunch, at the head of which stood Griffith and Hutchinson. Thornton, Parker, Friend, Terry and Stratton were all better than the average when just right, and it was certainly not the fault of the pitchers if the team did not carry off the pennant honors. At late as September 7, and when the club was in the ninth place, predictions were freely made to the effect that the club would not finish in the first division, but this time the croakers proved to be all wrong, for the team made a grand rally in the closing weeks of the season and finished in fourth place, a fact that some of the newspaper critics seemed to have purposely lost sight of at the time of my enforced retirement, that being the same place they stood under Burns' management the first season.

The Baltimores again won the championship, they having 87 games won and 46 lost to their credit, as against Cleveland's 84 won and 46 lost, Philadelphia 78 won and 53 lost, and Chicago 72 won and 58 lost, Brooklyn, Boston, Pittsburg, Cincinnati, New York, Washington and Brooklyn following in order.

The Chicago team of 1896 was a somewhat mixed affair, change following change in rapid succession. Hutchinson had retired from the game and the pitchers, seven in number, were, Griffith, Thornton, Briggs, Friend, Terry, Parker and McFarland; Kittridge and Donohue as catchers, myself and Decker alternating at first base, Pfeffer and Truby doing the same thing at second, and Everett and McCormick at third. Dahlen played shortstop, and Lange, Everett, Ryan, Decker and Flynn took care of the outfield.

The most of the pitching this season devolved upon Griffith and Friend, while Parker and McFarland both proved failures. Neither Pfeffer nor Decker were themselves for a great part of the season, and yet, in spite of all, the team played good ball and finished in the fifth place, the pennant going for the third consecutive time to Baltimore, which won go games and lost 39, while Cleveland came second with 80 games won and 48 lost, Cincinnati third with 77 games won and so lost, Boston fourth with 74 games and 57 lost, and Chicago fifth with 71 games won and 57 lost, Pittsburg, New York, Philadelphia, Washington, Brooklyn, St. Louis and Louisville finishing as named.

The team with which I started out in 1897 was certainly good enough to win the pennant with, or at least to finish right up in the front rank, and that it failed to do either of these things can only be explained by the fact that underhanded work looking toward my downfall was indulged in by some of the players, who were aided and abetted by President Hart, he refusing to enforce the fines levied by myself as manager and in that way belittling my authority and making it impossible to enforce the discipline necessary to making the team a success. The ringleader in this business was Jimmy Ryan, between whom and the Club's President the most perfect understanding seemed to exist, and for this underhanded work Ryan was rewarded later by being made the team captain, a position that he was too unpopular with the players to hold, though it is generally thought he was allowed to draw the salary as per the agreement.

The Chicago players for that season were Briggs, Callahan, Friend, Griffith and Thompson, pitchers; Kittridge and Donohue, catchers; Decker and myself, first base; Connor, Callahan and Pfeffer, second base; Everett and McCormick, third base; Dahlen, McCormick and Callahan, shortstop; and Lange, Ryan, Decker and Thornton, outfielders.

Pfeffer was the only weak spot, he being handicapped by illness, and yet even he might have made a creditable showing had he not been handicapped my some of his associates and most unmercifully criticized by the newspapers, whose unwarrantable attacks have, in many cases, to my certain knowledge, driven good men out of the business. Lack of discipline and insubordination began to show from the start. Fines were remitted in spite of all the protests that I could make, several members of the club being allowed to do about as they pleased. There could be but one result, as a matter of course, and that was poor ball playing. When the April campaign ended we were in the eleventh place. At the end of May we stood tenth. At the end of June we had again dropped back to eleventh. At the end of July we had climbed up to eighth, and at the end of August we were sixth, having then climbed into the first division. When the close of the season came, however, we had dropped back again to the ninth position, the margin between sixth and ninth places being a very small one. The race for the pennant that season between Baltimore and Boston was a close one, the latter club finally carrying off the honors of the season with 93 games won and 39 lost, while Baltimore came second with go games won and 40 lost, and New York third with 83 games won and 48 lost, Cincinnati being fourth, Cleveland fifth, Brooklyn sixth, Washington seventh, Pittsburg eighth, Chicago ninth, Philadelphia tenth, Louisville eleventh and St. Louis twelfth.

Late that fall the newspapers began to publish articles to the effect that I was to be released by the Chicago League Ball Club, but as no official notice to that effect had ever been served on me, arid as I was conscious of always having done my duty by the organization in which I was a stockholder, I for some time paid no attention to the matter. From mere rumors, however, these newspaper articles soon began to take on a more definite form and to be coupled with references to my management of the team that were, to say the least, both uncalled for and venomous, but still I heard nothing from headquarters that would lead me to suppose there was any truth in them.

On the contrary I was treated with the greatest consideration, Mr. Spalding even going so far as to insist upon my attending the League meeting in my official capacity, where I made trades for players that were afterwards blocked by himself and President Hart, this action making my position a most humiliating one.

Still ignorant of the fact that I was to be dropped from the club's rolls, and that without warning after my long and faithful service, at Mr. Spalding's solicitation that spring I accompanied him on a trip to England, and while we were there he advised me not to worry about the club matters or the rumors that I had heard, as the thing would doubtless be all fixed up before our return. I then made a proposition to him that he and I together should buy the Chicago League Ball Club, a proposition that he partially acceded to, though in view of subsequent events I am now certain that such a plan was not in reality entertained by him for a moment.

Matters had indeed been "fixed up" on my return, and Tom Burns, my old third-baseman, had been brought on from Springfield, Mass., to manage the team, or, rather, to serve as a figure-head for the Club's President.

It was then that I was advised by Mr. Spalding to resign, which I refused to do, preferring to take my medicine like a man, bitter as the dose might be.

Mr. Burns that spring took up the reins that had been taken out of my hands, and how well he succeeded with the able (?) assistance of President Hart is now a matter of history.

The following table gives my batting and fielding record for the past twenty-three years, and I feel that it is one that I may well be proud of:

CHAPTER XXXIV. IF THIS BE TREASON, MAKE THE MOST OF IT.

Experience is a mighty dear teacher. This is a fact that has been generally admitted by the world at large, but one that I have never fully realized until within the last few years, though just how much it has cost me in the matter of dollars-and-cents it is hard to say.

It is but natural, I presume, after twenty-two years connection with a corporation for one to have well-defined opinions of certain of its officials, and it is pleasant to record here that prior to the advent of James A. Hart on the scene my relations with the club were most pleasant. Under the watchful eye of Mr. Hurlbut the club flourished, and not only maintained a higher average in the percentage column than it has since enjoyed, but, in contradistinction to the latter day methods of management, it annually returned a large balance on the right side of the ledger, this last feature being by no means the least pleasant of my memories. Now, the query arises, "If the team was so uniformly successful under Mr. Hurlbut, why has it not enjoyed the same measure of success since?" And the answer, short and sweet, can be summed up in one word, "mismanagement."

As I have already explained elsewhere my financial relations with Mr. Spalding in regard to the around-the-world trip of the ball players, it is unnecessary for me again to go into that phase of the matter, but there was one little incident connected with that event that has not been told, and that accounts for Mr. Hart's desire to get rid of me as easily and as quietly as possible, even if he had to use underhanded measures in order to do so. When we started off on our trip in 1888 it was found necessary to get someone to check the receipts of the various exhibitions, see that we obtained our share, pay hotel bills, etc., etc., and generally look after the small financial details, and for some reason which I have never been able to understand A. G. Spalding made arrangements with James A. Hart to accompany us as far as San Francisco for that purpose, though the latter had no special qualifications for the work in hand. In fact, up to that time Mr. Hart, who had been connected as manager with Louisville, Boston and Milwaukee Clubs, had been an accredited failure, just as he has been since in Chicago, where the club under his management has steadily gone from bad to worse, such a thing as a dividend never having been heard of since he took the reins.

For his services on the trip he was paid a salary and his expenses, but this was seemingly not enough, for prior to our departure for Australia Mr. Spalding came to me with a subscription paper, stating that he was securing subscriptions from the members of our party for the purpose of presenting Mr. Hart with a pair of valuable diamond cuff-buttons. Just why Mr. Hart should be made the recipient of a valuable gift under such circumstances was more than I could fathom, and I not unnaturally entered protests.

My protest went unheeded, however, and from this little acorn grew the oak of disagreement between James A. Hart and myself, an oak that has now grown to mammoth proportions.

It was while on the same trip around the world that my long term contract made with Mr. Hurlbut expired, and that I signed a new one under somewhat peculiar circumstances. Returning home and while in mid-ocean I was requested by Mr. Spalding, who was President of the Chicago Ball Club, to sign a contract, which was made for ten years at my request, with the club, as manager and captain, and by the terms of this contract it was stipulated that I should receive a certain salary and a contingent fee, amounting to 10 per cent. of the net profits of the club, as shown by the books of that organization, which, in 1890, amounted to little or nothing, owing to the troubles engendered by the Brotherhood revolt and the war between the National League and the American Association, though during a portion of the time I was paid something in excess of my salary, presumably on the supposition that the laborer was worthy of his hire.

In 1891, greatly to my astonishment, Mr. Spalding retired from the presidency and James A. Hart was elected to the vacant position. At that time I received a long letter from Mr. Spalding, in which he took particular pains to assure me Mr. Hart was a mere figurehead, who would always be subject to his advice and control, and just so long as he, Mr. Spalding, was connected with the club I should be retained by that organization. In the face of such an assurance as that, and in view of the fact that I had been associated so many years with Mr. Spalding in business, having first come to Chicago at his solicitation, I could see no reason for doubting his word, though subsequent events have shown me differently.

While in Philadelphia, after the recent League meeting held in New York, I called on John I. Rogers in reference to securing a contract to manufacture the league ball, and in the course of our conversation the subject of my treatment by the Chicago management came up. He then informed me that while presiding at a banquet given by the Philadelphia Club some two years ago, and at which both Mr. Hart and myself were guests, he had informed Hart that he was going to call on me for a speech. To this Hart had replied that he and I were not on the best of terms and then went on to tell him that when he, Hart, had joined the Chicago Club Spalding had agreed to release me at the end of my contract and place him, Hart, at the head of the Chicago Club.

If Mr. Hart told the truth when he made that statement, then Mr. Spalding certainly deceived me, but that is a matter of veracity for them to settle between themselves.

In 1893 the Chicago Ball Club was reorganized under the name of the Chicago League Ball Club, and by the terms of an agreement made with Mr. Spalding I was allowed to take a certain number of shares of the stock, in addition to those which I held in the old organization, to be paid for out of my contingent fee, which, by the terms of our agreement, it was guaranteed should be large enough to pay for the same, and which came to me under those conditions. At the same time, having six years more to serve under the terms of the old contract, I was given a new one, which I signed without reading, and which was only for five years instead of six, a discrepancy that I did not discover until I came to read it over at home that same evening to Mrs. Anson, and then, having still the most implicit confidence in Mi. Spalding, I said nothing about it, relying on his promise to protect my interests.

In the meantime the grounds now used by the club on the West Side had been purchased, and I presume a payment on them made, and I was informed by Mr. Spalding that I might either swing the deal myself or else sign away my interest, which amounted to a little over one-eighth, but that in case I took the latter course, the club would pay dividends instead of putting the money into real estate. It seemed a little strange to me that I should be asked to swing a deal that A. G. Spalding and John R. Walsh were unable to handle, and being unable myself to do so I signed away my interest, but, alas! those promised dividends are still in the dim and misty distance, and my confidence in A. G. Spalding has dwindled away to nothing, and not unnaturally, as I shall have no difficulty in proving.

After I had been released by the club Mr. Spalding still posed as my best friend, and the affection that Damon had for Pythias was not greater than that I bore for him. I had not then learned the full nature of his duplicity, nor was it until some time later that it dawned upon me. In the meantime Mr. Spalding had set on foot a project to give me a money testimonial, and had called a meeting at the Chicago Athletic Club for the purpose of perfecting plans for the same. This I refused to accept for the reason that I was not a pauper, the public owed me nothing, and I believed that I was still capable of making my own living. At that meeting A. H. Pratt, who represented me, read the following letter that I had written for the occasion:

To My Friends—The kind offer to raise a large public subscription for me, the first notice of which I received by a chance meeting with Mr. Spalding the afternoon preceding its publication in the daily papers, is an honor and a compliment I duly appreciate. Implying as it does the hearty good will and close fellowship of the originator of the movement, A. G. Spalding, causes me to regard it higher. There are times when one hesitates to receive favors even from friends, and at this hour I deem it both unwise and inexpedient to accept the generosity so considerately offered.      A. C. ANSON.

This testimonial, had I accepted it, would doubtless have been a great success, as it was endorsed by all of the League magnates, by the press generally, and by the lovers of base-ball all over the country, but to me it appeared to be something too much in the nature of a charity gift for me to accept, and I felt that I should stultify my manhood by so doing, and that I should sacrifice that feeling of independence that I had always possessed. To the many friends who urged it upon me at the time I am still deeply grateful, but I feel that in declining to accept it I did a wise thing, and I am confident that very many of them now agree with me in that opinion.

Just at this stage of affairs my plans for the future were apparently a matter of great interest to both press and public, and if the statements made by the former were to be believed, I had more schemes on hand than did a professional promoter, and every one of them with "millions in it." I was to manage this club and manage that club; I was to play here and play there, and, in fact, there was scarcely anything that I was not going to do if the reporters' statements could be depended upon. One of the most senseless of these was the starting of the A. C. Anson Base-Ball College, the prospectus for which was typewritten in the sporting-goods store of A. G. Spalding, and read as follows:

Location.—The school will be located on what is known as the A. G. Spalding Tract, covering the blocks bounded by Lincoln, Robey, 143d and 144th streets, upon which Mr. A. G. Spalding will erect suitable structures, fences, stands, dressing-rooms, etc. The site is in the celebrated Calumet region and is easy of access.

Membership.—All accepted applicants for membership will be required to submit to a thorough physical examination and go through a regular and systematic course of training, calculated to prepare them for actual participation in base-ball games. Upon entering they will subscribe to the rules and regulations of the institution, which will demand obedience and provide for discipline, abstemious habits, regular hours, proper diet, in fact everything which tends to improve the health and physical condition will be required. They must also pass an examination made by Captain Anson as to their natural aptitude for becoming proficient in the game of base-ball.

Instruction.—The course of instruction will consist of physical training by the latest and most approved methods, with the special intention of developing the body and mind, so that the best possible results may be obtained looking to perfection of base-ball playing. Daily instruction will be had in the theory and practice of the game.

Engagements.—As soon as students are sufficiently developed and display skill to justify, efforts will be made by the college management to secure lucrative engagements for those who desire to enter the professional field. Arrangements will be made with the various professional and semi-professional clubs throughout the country by which students of the college will come into contact with managers and be enabled to make known their merits.

Application for Admittance.—Persons who desire to become students of the college will be required to fill out and sign the regular application blank provided by the college, which must give information regarding the applicant, such as name, place of residence, height, weight, various measurements, past vocation, habits, state of health, etc., etc.

Charges.—Accepted students will be required to pay a tuition of $2 per week, at least five weeks tuition to be paid in advance, and must supply their practice uniform. The college will provide all team uniforms for use in games and all materials and utensils necessary for practice.

Then followed a showing of financial possibilities that would have done credit to the brains of a Colonel Sellers.

It is unnecessary for me to say that this scheme never emanated from me, or that it never received any serious consideration at my hands, the real plan being to create a real-estate boom and enable Mr. Spalding to dispose of some of his holdings, using me as a catspaw with which to pull the chestnuts out of the fire.

All this time I was busily engaged in perfecting plans by which I might get possession of the Chicago League Ball Club, in which I already had 130 shares of stock, and finally I succeeded in obtaining an option on the same from A. G. Spalding, a facsimile of which appears on another page. Armed with this document I worked like a Trojan in order to raise the necessary funds, which I certainly should have succeeded in doing had not my plans been thwarted time and again by A. G. Spalding and his agents, and this in spite of the fact that our probable war with Spain made the raising of money a difficult matter. More than once when engaged in the task I was informed by friends that I was simply wasting my time, as the option that I possessed was not worth the paper it was written on, and that there was never any intention on the part of A. G. Spalding and his confreres to let me get possession of the club. It was not until several men who had promised to aid me backed down squarely that I realized that there was an undercurrent at work, and that the option, which it was often denied at that time that I had, had been given to me in bad faith and just for the purpose of letting me down easily, but when once convinced that such was really the case I gave up making any further effort in the matter.

Later I accepted a position as manager of the New York Club, being assured that I should have full control of the team, but at the end of a month finding that there were too many cooks to spoil the broth I resigned, accepting only the amount of salary due me for actual services, though offered a sum considerably in excess of the same. This ended my actual connection with National League base-ball, and its mismanagement.

In spite of the fact that I have been connected with the Chicago Base-Ball Club for twenty-two years as an active player and for twenty-four years as a stockholder, I have never attended a meeting of that organization until recently, and then Mr. Hart and myself were the only stockholders present. Again, in spite of the fact that my contingent fees were to be paid on the showing made by the books, these books I have never been allowed to see, nor have I ever been able to get any statement as to my standing with the Club, and that in spite of the fact that I have several times made a demand for the same.

That being the case, how can I be sure that I have had all that was coming to me, or that I have been honestly dealt with by that organization?

In all of my club dealings I trusted implicitly to Mr. Spalding, at whose solicitation I left Philadelphia and came to Chicago, and that I made a mistake in so trusting him I am now confident, as it is a poor plan for any man not to look closely after his own business interests.

In regard to my financial dealings with the Club I might be much more explicit, but I feel that it is not a matter of great public interest, and I therefore refrain from doing so, believing that what I have already said will serve to show how I stand and how I feel in the matter.

CHAPTER XXXV. HOW MY WINTERS WERE SPENT.

How do the members of the base-ball fraternity spend the winter seasons? If I have been asked that question once I have been asked it a thousand times. The public, as a rule, seem to think that because a man is a professional ball player and therefore employed but seven months in the year he must necessarily spend the other five in idleness, and there are doubtless some few ball players that spend their winters in that way, but, be it said to the credit of the craft, there are not many of them. There is no man upon whose hands time hangs so heavily as it does upon the hands of him who has nothing to do, at least that has been my experience, and for that reason I have always managed to busy myself at something during the winter months. Some of the things that I engaged in proved profitable, others did not, but, all-in-all, the winter of 1885 yielded me the best results of my life, for that winter I spent in doing what the old gentleman had wanted me to do years before, viz., in going to school. I had a very good reason for doing this, as you can readily see.

During my ball-playing career I had entrusted some money to the old gentleman up in Marshalltown for safe keeping, and while up there on a visit in the fall of 1884, needing some coin, I asked for it.

"Figure up how much I owe you, interest and all," was his reply, "and we will have a settlement."

Now, the old gentleman might just as well have set me down at the foot of the Rocky Mountains with a wheelbarrow and told me to carry them away to the Atlantic coast on that vehicle, as to have asked me to do an example in interest, and I was too ashamed of my ignorance to allow him to know that such a thing was beyond my powers, so I managed to get around the matter in some way, but I made up my mind then and there that I would at the first opportunity learn at best enough to take care of my own business. That winter I spent with my wife and daughter in Philadelphia, and here I found that she had a brother, Remey A. Fiegel, who was as averse to going to school as ever I had been. By this time I had come to a realizing sense of the power of knowledge, and so I labored with him until he consented to go to night-school, providing that I would send him, which I agreed to do.

Pierce's Business College was the place selected, and when I went up there to make the necessary arrangements for his tuition I asked how old a man had to become before he was barred from attending.

"Oh!" replied the superintendent, "age is no bar here. We have a great many scholars right now who are a long ways older than you are."

"All right! You can just put my name down, too," I replied, and the following Monday evening Remey and I started to go to school together, and this time there was no nonsense about it. That winter I studied faithfully, and, though it was hard work, by the time spring came and we returned to Chicago I had acquired at least a fair knowledge of the rudiments of business and was able to keep my own books, figure my own interest, and, in fact, run my own business.

During the greater part of another winter I ran a hand-ball court on Michigan avenue in Chicago, which did not prove to be a. paying venture, one reason, and the paramount one, being that it was too far away from the business center of the town at that time, though now it would have been in the very heart of the business district, while still another reason was that there were not enough hand-ball players in the city to keep the game running.

Some time during the latter part of the '80s the old Congress street grounds were converted during the winter season into a skating rink and toboggan slide, and of this I had the management during one whole season, a season that was pecuniarily profitable to the lessees of the grounds, as the weather during the greater part of the winter was severe, the ice in fine condition and the toboggan slide in apple-pie order.

Ice skating was that season more popular in Chicago than it had ever been before, and the toboggan craze, which had been brought over here from Canada, at once caught on to the public fancy. As a result the Congress Street Rink was crowded both afternoon and evening, and, strange to relate, the attendance was of the most fashionable sort, the young men and maidens from all parts of the city assembling for the purpose of going down the toboggan slide, which was attended with a great deal more of excitement in those days than was the sport of "shooting the chutes," its summer prototype, which later on became popular. The grounds were handsomely lighted and, thronged as they were in the evening with gaily-attired skaters of both sexes, and toboggan parties arrayed in the picturesque rigs that were the fashion in Montreal, Quebec and other Canadian cities, they made a pretty sight and one that attracted crowds of spectators, some of the skaters being of the kind that would have been styled champions in the days when Frank Swift, Callie Curtis and others were the leading fancy skaters.

The next season the same rink was managed by John Brown, the late secretary of the Chicago Base-Ball Club, but unfortunately he was not blessed with "the Anson luck," and the winter being a mild one and the freezes few and far between, he did not make a success of the venture. The toboggan craze was merely one of the fashionable fads of the moment, and now one rarely hears anything at all of the sport.

As a bottler of ginger beer I achieved at another time great distinction and there are some men in the country right now who have a very vivid remembrance of the beverage that I was unfortunate enough to put upon the market. My experience as a ginger beer manufacturer was laughable, to say the least of it, though I confess that I did not appreciate the fact at the time as much as did some of my friends and acquaintances.

During several of my visits to Canada in search both of players and pleasure I had made the acquaintance of a Mr. William Burrill, who at that time conducted a clothing store at London, Canada, and who had treated both myself and Mrs. Anson with great kindness. This gentleman finally went "down the toboggan slide" in a business way and at last turned up in Chicago with a very little money and a formula for making and bottling ginger beer. He needed, according to his own estimate, about $500 more capital than he was possessed of and wished me to join him in manufacturing it. He was a nice fellow, I was anxious to help him along, and, besides that, viewed from a business standpoint, it looked like a good thing, and as I was never averse to taking a chance when there was a good thing in sight I concluded to join him in the venture. The $500 that I was originally required to invest grew into $1,500, however, before we got the thing on the market, and then the sales started off in lively fashion, and so, not long afterwards, did the ginger beer.

There was a flaw in the formula somewhere, just what it was I never have been able to ascertain, but—well, there was something the matter with it. It wouldn't stay corked, that was its worst feature, but would go off at all times of the day and night and in the most unexpected fashion. If the cork would hold, the bottle wouldn't, and as a result there would be an explosion that would sound like the discharge of a small cannon. Sometimes only one bottle out of a dozen would explode, and then again the whole dozen would go off with a sound like that made by a whole regiment firing by platoons. It was by long odds the liveliest ginger-beer that had ever been placed upon the market. There was entirely too much life in it. That was the trouble. Sitting among a lot of fancy glassware on a back bar it looked as innocent of evil as a newborn babe, but, presto change! and a moment afterwards it was its Satanic Majesty on a rampage, and that back bar with its glassware looked as if it had been struck by a Kansas cyclone.

Complaints began to pour in to the factory from all kinds and classes of customers, and I began to be afraid to walk the streets for fear that some one would accuse me of having bottled dynamite instead of ginger-beer.

I sold a case of it to a friend of mine who kept a noted sporting resort on South Clark street, Chicago. It was harmless enough when I sold it to him. It was young then, and its propensity for mischief had not been fully developed. It developed later. One evening when all was quiet there was an explosion in the cellar. It sounded like the muffled report of a dynamite cartridge. The billiard players dropped their cues and some of them started for the door. A second explosion followed and the coon porters' hair stood fairly on end and their faces became as near like chalk as a black man's can.

The proprietor started down cellar to investigate. He had gotten half way down when there came a third explosion.

He came back again more hastily than he had gone down, and ordered one of the porters to ascertain the cause of the trouble.

The porter was a brave man, and he refused to do it.

I did not blame him when I heard of it.

In the meantime the rest of the ginger-beer bottles had caught the contagion and the fusillade became fast and furious, and it did not stop until the billiard-room and the last bottle of ginger beer were both empty.

After silence had reigned for some time and it had become apparent that danger was all past, my friend the proprietor grew courageous again and, lamp in hand, he visited the cellar to investigate.

Where the case of ginger beer had set there was a mass of wreckage. Broken glass was everywhere, while the flooring, ceiling and walls were strained in a hundred different places. As he emerged from the cellar with a look of supreme disgust on his countenance, he was surrounded by an anxious group who asked as one man:

"What's the matter down there, Louis?"

"It's that ginger beer of Anson's," was the reply.

Then there was another explosion, this time one of laughter.

"Anson's ginger-beer" was getting a reputation, but it was not exactly the sort of a reputation that I wanted it to have. I was willing to close out the business even at a sacrifice, and this I did.

I saved more in proportion of my money than my customers did of the ginger beer I had sold them. This was one consolation.