Joe played on several teams after leaving Chicago, and with varying success. Of late years he has been employed in the City Hall at Chicago, where he holds a good position.
Ed Wiliamson was another player who came to us from Indianapolis, where he had already made for himself quite a reputation. He, too, hailed originally from some-where around New Castle, and was playing in Pittsburg the first time that I ever saw him. My wife knew him long before I knew him, however. He was then a member of an amateur club in Philadelphia, for which she acted as a sort of treasurer, taking care of the money that they raised to buy balls with, etc.
Ed was, in my opinion, the greatest all-around ballplayer the country ever saw. He was better than an average batsman and one of the few that knew how to wait for a ball and get the one that he wanted before striking. He was a good third baseman, a good catcher and a man who could pitch more than fairly well, too, when the necessity for his doing so arose. Taking him all in all, I question if we shall ever see his like on a ball field again. He was injured some years later while the Chicago Club was making a trip around the world, and was never the same fellow afterward. After his retirement from the diamond he ran a saloon in company with Jimmy Woods, another ball-player, on Dearborn street, Chicago, which was a popular resort for the lovers of sports. He died of dropsy at Hot Springs, Arkansas, leaving a wife, but no children.
Williamson was one of the most popular of the many players that the Chicago Club has had. A big, good-natured and good-hearted fellow, he numbered his friends by the hundreds, and his early death was regretted by all who knew him.
Thomas E. Burns was playing with the Albany, N. Y., Club, who were then the champions of the New York State League when I signed him to play with Chicago. He was a fair average batter, but was hardly fast enough to be considered a really good shortstop.
He was a fair base-runner, using excellent judgment in that respect, and a first-class slider, going into the bases head first when compelled to make a slide for them, instead of feet first, like the majority of the players of that day and generation; in fact, he was more of a diver than a slider, and he generally managed to get there.
After his release by Chicago he went to Pittsburg, where I had secured him a five-year contract as manager at a handsome salary, and where he had some trouble that resulted in the club's breaking the agreement and in the bringing of a lawsuit, which he won.
He then took charge of the Springfield, Mass., Club, a member of the New England League, Springfield being not far from his old home at New Britain. Two years ago he took my place as manager of the Chicago Club, and that he has not made a success of it is due to certain causes that will be explained later on.
Abner Dalrymple was brought into the Chicago fold from Milwaukee, where he had been playing. He was only an ordinary fielder, and a fair base runner, but excelled as a batsman. I have said that he was a fair fielder, and in that respect perhaps I am rating him too high, as his poor fielding cost us several games that in my estimation we should have won. Dalrymple was a queer proposition, and for years a very steady player. He was never known to spend a cent in those days, and was so close that he would wait for somebody else to buy a newspaper and then borrow it in order to see what was going on. Later on he broke loose, however, and when he did he became one of the sportiest of sports, blowing his money as if he had found it and setting a hot pace for his followers.
He finally settled down again, however, and now holds a good railroad position in the Northwest, where he is living with his family. His was about the quickest case of "loosening up from extreme tightness" that I have ever run across.