Baseball, That's All.

He's a regular "fan" and studies the baseball news as carefully as some people do their Bibles. He comes to breakfast with his dear little wife and finds his morning paper as usual at his plate. "By Jove!" he shouts, as he glances at the news, "a game this afternoon." Then he begins to wax eloquent about the strikes, flies, home runs and base hits, putting his hand in the hominy, knocking the coffee pot from the table and winding up his exposition by pulling the table-cloth off and everything else with it. He has gone the limit and wifey can humor his craze no longer. She swoops down upon him with an umbrella and gets in some "swats" that nearly knock the cover from his dome. He makes a run for the office with a deep laid plan to go to the ball game by pretending he has a toothache.