Robinson was the following batter. He laughed at the one who had struck out, saying:
“Well, you must feel foolish! Before I’d let that object do such a thing to me!”
Then he stepped quickly up to the plate. He was a great hitter, having connected with the ball every time up during the game thus far.
The jay took the sphere in his hand, glared at Robinson, then made a swing, and sent in one of his speedy ones. The moment the ball left his hand the queer pitcher yelled:
“Look aout!”
Robinson dropped just in time to avoid being hit by the ball, which fairly whizzed as it passed his head. The catcher was not quick enough to stop the ball at all.
Up on the bleachers rose another farmerish-looking fellow, who, however, was dressed in good taste, and who shouted:
“Look out there, Bub-Bub-Bub-Bill! You gol-dud-dud-dud-darn fool! Dud-dud-dud-do you want to kuk-kuk-kuk-kill somebody?”
“Jest a mistake, Joe,” returned the pitcher, with a grin. “The consarned ball slipped.”